#and in the movie he just falls over and they exchange a couple sentences instead

[spottedside]

laying in bed thinking

[moonctzeny]

get to you again

pairing: friends to lovers! hendery x fem!reader 

genre: smut, just a tiny teeny bit angsty I guess but with a happy ending, fluff

word count: 3k

warnings: raw sex, creampie, a little corruption kink?

summary:  “You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?”

inspiration: get to you again - mac ayres

tagging the lovely: @markresonates

It had been too long since you last saw Hendery.

You two had met so unexpectedly, both trapped in a small coffee shop a couple years ago, drenched to the bone and trying to find cover from the sudden rainfall.

“I was going to ask you if you were willing to share your umbrella, but I’m guessing you forgot it on the wrong day like me”, he joked, so you decided to share a table instead. After the fourth time he had you clench your stomach in laughter, out of the sheer willingness to make a stranger like you cheer up, you decided to exchange phone numbers, thus starting what would become a beautiful friendship.

It wasn’t easy being an idol. Two promotions in Korea, then a reality show in China, then another comeback. You counted the days, one by one until he’d get to you again. Until you’d finally re-watch his favorite movie with him for the millionth time, just to get to watch him laugh over the same stupid lines.

You weren’t sure when you realized you had fallen for him. Maybe it was last winter, almost exactly a year ago when he handed you your Christmas present. He had driven you on a hill on the outskirts of Seoul, the only place he knew with some privacy from prying eyes, and the breathtaking view of the tiny city lights made the freezing cold worth it. You were both sitting against the hood of his car, admiring the big city that seemed to unravel at your feet when you opened the small velvet box.

It revealed a silver necklace of two wings hanging from a dainty chain, with his initials carved on the back of the charm. As you stared at it long enough to make sure you weren’t making things up, you couldn’t decide which one was more beautiful- the pendant or the stars in Hendery’s eyes as he waited for your reaction.

“It’s symbolic”, he started explaining, a little embarrassed with how much effort he had put into the gift, “I know I’m not around a lot to take care of you, but just know that I’m always there if you need me. Like your guardian angel”.

He sounded so wholesome while saying it, long bangs covering his eyes that bashfully avoided yours. You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?

Tonight, it was beating as fast as the rhythm of the blinking Christmas lights decorating your living room. How could it not, with Hendery sitting only a few inches away, sharing a blanket with you? He was a few minutes late due to a last-minute photoshoot, but he arrived at your door bare faced and dressed in his favourite flannel shirt. He was just how you liked him, raw and soft and beautiful.

Unlike what you had predicted, he suggested checking out a new romantic comedy on Netflix. It was one of those that come out every Christmas season, all with the same low budget and cheesy acting that ended with some festive spirit that magically solves every plot hole. Two childhood friends, falling in love with each other, yet the girl thinks that the guy is way out of her league so she does nothing about it. The pure irony convinced you that the universe must be surely playing some sick joke on you, forcing you to look at a Hollywood version of yourself getting a happy ending for the next two hours.

“I don’t understand”, Hendery huffs in frustration, midway into the film by now, “why doesn’t the girl just tell him she likes him? What guy doesn’t want to hear that?”

“Maybe she’s scared of the rejection, or ruining everything-“ you start defending the character with a raised voice, realizing that maybe you’re invested in the movie a little too much, “sometimes there is this line between two people, and it’s comfortable to stay behind it because you don’t want to lose them in case something goes wrong”. You draw an invisible line with your index finger between your bodies, and Hendery focuses his stare on it as if it was real. He looks lost in his thoughts, still frozen in place before shaking his head and murmuring: “I guess you’re right”.

Your comment, his response, the sex scene playing on the screen. It all made you so painfully alert with his presence that your whole body tensed up and your mouth dried up like it was filled with cotton. You both chuckle in the midst of all the steaminess, as the actor fails to drag his former best friend at the edge of the bed by tagging on her ankle.

“What a loser”, Hendery scoffs mockingly at the character’s mistake, and you turn around to give him a side eyed glare.

“Relax, muscle man. Like you would do it better”

He mocks offense by opening his mouth dramatically, and you giggle at the distortion of his face that still somehow managed to look pretty. It was so cute, how he always wanted to look ‘strong’ in the eyes of others, reliable and macho. You didn’t care about any of that, you thought his resolutions were stupid. He was perfect in your eyes.

“Of course I would! I’m strong, look-“

The disaster played out in front of you like a filmstrip. His hands on your ankle, then his own ankle tripping over the blanket on the floor, and finally the feeling of his chest weighing down over your own. With him pressed so close against you, you were sure he must feel the way your heart is thumping, filled with so many emotions that it’s ready to jump out of your body.

The room was cold, but with Hendery’s sudden body heat coating you, you felt like you were on fire. The fleeting thought of you taking off your clothes, to relieve yourself of the suffocating feeling made your cheeks burn even more. Hendery’s neck was exposed just inches in front of you in it’s full glory, and you thought about where those veins on the side of it, visible through his pale skin, ended. You’d gladly kiss along the path they drew, let your teeth leave little violet blossoms on the way, while you’d make mental notes of what kisses made him react the loudest.

It’s his bangs tickling your temples that made you realize that he is still on top of you. You look up into his eyes, expecting a frantic look, maybe a string of apologies leaving his mouth. He was strangely serene, staring at your own lips instead, and for a second you thought he’d finally mercy you and give you what you daydream about every time he comes around. You’d kill for the sight of him with puffy red lips and blown out pupils, messy just for you. You’d kill for the feeling of his tongue against your own.

When he plants a kiss on your right cheek, right over the corner of your mouth, you think it tastes bittersweet. You were still high on the intimacy when he finally apologizes and rips his body away from yours, your crash back down to reality brutal. The movie was still playing on a high volume, yet all you heard was a deafening silence after his trip. You don’t object when he tells you he has to go before you get to see what happens to the couple behind the screen. They were eating you away, all the things you wanted to say to him as you sent him off, so much more than just a ‘drive safe, text me when you get home’.

Those thirty minutes after you close your front door felt like a lifetime. You replayed the accident over and over again in your head, the skin burning where he kissed you. The thoughts of calling him, telling him to turn around and finish what he started, were so loud that you felt like a crazy person.

You certainly thought you went insane when you heard a knock against your door. Peeking through the peephole, you’re surprised to see that, as if you’d unlocked the secret of manifestation, Hendery was standing once again in your hallway.

“Guanheng? Did you forget anything?”

He looked restless and fidgety as he walked back inside your apartment, like he couldn’t wait to let out whatever was on the tip of his tongue. His shoulders were coated in a light layer of snow that had managed to flush his face, and dampen his hair and eyelashes as well.

“No- well- yes, I-“. He stopped himself mid sentence and sighed, and you let him collect his thoughts. He looked serious, the expression foreign on his usually bright features, yet the way he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration made butterflies fly in your stomach. “What did you say about that line between two friends again? When we were watching the movie?”

You blinked back at him in confusion, waiting for him to tell you that he’s joking, he just forgot his charger, and he’ll see you again when his company allows him to. But he doesn’t, so you start to roll the pendant he gifted you between your thumb and index, trying to calm yourself down.

“It keeps two people that are meant to be together apart, but there is too much at stake to cross it”.

You start drawing that invisible line again, the one that separates the miserable comfort of denying your feelings for him and everything you wish you were brave enough to pursue.

He would be brave for the both of you.

Hendery grabs your lifted hand, bringing it on the side of his neck before he crashes his lips against yours. You don’t hesitate in kissing him back, hungry for his lips that taste as sweet as you imagined them to. He hasn’t realized how impossibly close to his body he has brought you, not until his embrace gets so tight that your necklace pokes uncomfortably against his chest.

You suck on his bottom lip and he welcomes you with his tongue, the kiss getting so heated now that you can’t help but tug on his hair to keep you grounded. Shivering from your action, his hands are now sliding from your hips to your waist, following the curves of your body until he reaches the underside of your breasts. You mewl against his lips as his thumbs dig into their softness, discreetly trying to cop a feel through your cotton shirt.

A moan leaves your mouth, lewd and desperate as he swallows it with a kiss, and he rips himself off of you when it seems to reach his stomach. He looks disheveled, as if he woke up from an intense, lucid dream; panting, sweating, staring at you with those big puppy eyes.

“We- we shouldn’t. We are going too fast, right?” You nod in agreement at his question but you’re not really listening. You had your fingertips placed on his moving lips, and he identifies the metallic smell as the remnants of you fidgeting with your jewelry earlier. “I should take you to dinner first, to that one place you like so much”. Losing interest in what he is saying, the words being too distant and grey when he stood so deliciously in front of you, you mindlessly start to unbutton his shirt, fascinated with that mole over his collarbone and wanting to see more.

The fire your fingers spread against his skin, in the midst of the chilliness of your living room has him groaning under his breath, with a voice as low and sexy as in his good morning calls. You can practically see him throw all his inhibitions out the window when he kisses you again, pushing you with his body until your back finds the nearest wall. Hendery’s hands are far from gentle now, leaving bruises behind all the soft spots he kneads with his fingers.

“I want you”, you confess with a whisper as you rid him off his flannel for good, and you can’t stop yourself from tracing all the lines of his toned abdomen. You can feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest, its fast rhythm matching yours. You grab his hand to lead him to the carpet next to the Christmas tree that is blinking along with the lights that adorn it- you’re too impatient in your arousal to take him to your bedroom and he doesn’t protest.

Hendery lays you on your back, finding his place between your legs as you wrap them around his waist to bring him closer. You remove your hoodie and the sports bra you had on, his lips immediately latching onto one of your nipples. He circles his tongue around the bud, licking and sucking on it interchangeably until you’re a begging mess underneath him.

Tugging on the elastic band of his sweats, you urge him to get naked for you completely, and he removes the extra garments with a strong pull. His sex bouces out of its cotton constraint, red and throbbing and aching for you. It makes the heat that’s pooling on your lower stomach spread even further, and you wiggle your hips to remove your sweatpants as well.

There’s something about the frilly pink panties you’re wearing- the innocent design on your shapely body that ignites a carnal instinct in him. He wants to ruin you, mark you, make you his. The sound of fabric getting ripped has your eyes bulge out in shock. You’ve never seen Hendery so determined.

He falls on top of you again, leaving urgent kisses on your jawline as he rubs his hard member against your heat. It’s driving you insane, how he’s so close to where you want him but not quite there yet, and you tug his hair again to make him look at you.

“I wanna feel you raw”

And raw was how he’d give it to you. You feel his warm hand over your stomach, keeping you in place as he aligns himself with your entrance, and the pressure his tip’s already feeling has him cursing out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”

He dips himself slowly into your pussy, careful not to stretch you uncomfortably much. His worried eyes are glued to your wide ones, reading your expressions to ensure they’re those of pleasure. And indeed they are, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottoms out fully, a symphony of both your moans filling the room.

He starts out with a steady rhythm, your pussy adjusting to his size with every calculated thrust. You’re getting drunk with the intimacy, with his smell that sticks to your skin and the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear. You feel addicted to it already, to the feeling of having him be a part of you, and as his growing desperation has him picking up his pace, yours makes you wish you could live in that moment forever.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer”

”Neither do I”

He can tell how close you are, your heaving chest and guttural sounds giving you away. His cold fingers find your clit then, rubbing your sensitivity in messy circles and pumping more blood to the area.

“Yes, baby. Let go for me”

Little stars of various colors dance around in your vision, framing the sight of Hendery fucking into you so beautifully. You enjoy the hypersensitivity that the continuing motion of his hips gives you, locking your legs around his waist as his thrusts turn sloppy.

“Come inside me”

Just those simple words, slipping out of your pretty mouth are enough to send him over the edge, grunting as he paints your walls in ropes of white. You feel him twitching inside you for a good while, your belly bulging in fullness. It drips out of you slowly when he finally gets off of you, his hands spreading your thighs apart so that he can admire his creation.

He chuckles in disbelief of what you two just did, removing a piece of fake snow that somehow landed on your hair. You can only admire the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down, all the little curves and shadows on his neck, his smile that gives you tunnel vision.

“All this time…”, he whispers softly, “you liked me too?”

You silently winced at the naiveness of his words, knowing damn well your feelings ran way deeper than a simple attraction. Nodding affirmatively, you avoid looking at his eyes by pretending to play with his fingers. You can’t let him see the way they have glossed up, yet the numbing feeling of disappointment is getting hard to ignore.

He doesn’t let you distance yourself from him further, lifting your chin up so you can make eye contact with him again. To your surprise, he looks way more nervous than you, subconsciously nibbling on his lower lip. He takes a deep breath, mustering up some courage before verbally letting his thoughts out of his chest.

“What if I told you I am in love with you?”

You were shocked at the confession, so much so that this reality seemed like a figment of your subconscious mind. You expected to wake up at any moment, to find yourself asleep on your couch, two feet away from him and still stuck in the sucky friendzone. But that moment never came, no matter how long you held your breath to trigger your awakening, and you let it go with a sigh and a blurb of your own thoughts.

“I’d ask you to be mine”

[kodzukenscorner]

Semi, Kita, Kuroo, Osamu, Tsukishima, Asahi, and Sugawara with a multilingual S/O

anon asked: Would you please write headcanons of Semi, Kita, Kuroo and Osamu being in a r/s with a foreign s/o who is multilingual - Japanese language included - and all are self taught? Like there are people who excel in STEM, performing arts, sports etc so for s/o, language is s/o's area of expertise. Thanks!

anon asked: Hello can I request some hcs for Tsukki, Asahi and Suga when their sleep in one bed with their gf for a first time and she starts talking in a foreign language while she's sleeping? Like you know she's multilingual and the boys suddenly wakes up and they're like ??? what are u saying ¿¿¿ Thank you so much❤️ Hope it's not too much to ask for 🥺 Have a nice day

a/n: I combined these two requests because they’re so similar for one SUPER LONG hc post lmao

wc: 2,146

✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶

Semi

Semi seems like someone who would probably try and learn English as an additional language

But he was not anticipating you being SO good at so many different languages

When he first saw you, he was immediately drawn to you because of how unique you were compared to everyone else

He definitely finds it very attractive when you talk to him in another language 

Kind of begs you to say something sweet to him in another language because it makes him swoon

Will ask you to teach him how to say certain phrases so he can compliment you in return

Oh but when he found out you were actually self taught? He nearly combusted

Not only were you super cool for knowing so many languages but you’re also super smart and taught them to yourself??

He kind of feels like you’re too good to him so he cherishes you like crazy!

He also finds it very endearing when you slip into another language when you’re not noticing

Sometimes you do it when you get frustrated or upset and he finds it quite cute

And one time he heard you sleep talking in another language and he got so curious about what you were saying he tried to record you so he could go to google translate and figure out what you were saying

But you were mumbling a lot so he never did find out what you said

He shows you off to everyone and is very smug with you on his arm

Will talk you up to anyone who will listen and you guys come off as such a power couple

All in all, he thinks you’re a badass 

Kita

Ok so Kita is a hard man to impress

He is an extremely hard worker and believes in putting your all into everything you do, within reason of course

So when he finds out you know another language, he is impressed 

BUT when he finds out you know multiple and that you taught yourself, he is shook to his entire core

It’s been a while since he’s met someone who is so naturally talented like you

This information will definitely get a rare reaction out of him

When he finds out he is so surprised that he just can’t stop staring at you and asking you to tell him how you managed to learn multiple languages

He honestly tries to take notes on your methods but most of it is just natural ability for you so he is shook

Doesn’t push you to speak another language if you’re not comfortable with it

But when you do, he is all ears even if he can’t understand a word you’re saying

Definitely the type of guy to pick up on keywords and phrases you use frequently so he slowly starts to understand what you’re saying

He may even start to incorporate them into his daily vocabulary as well!

He always makes sure that you don’t overwork yourself when you’re studying a new language

But he will gift you with lots of cute notebooks, flashcards and pens to take notes and learn some more!

Will also keep a full stock of your favorite snacks for you to ensure that you take breaks and eat

He’s really proud of you but is mostly concerned with your health and wellbeing first and foremost

But he does feel a little twinge of pride every time he watches your language skills improve

Kuroo

Alrighty so Kuroo is the one who will brag about you the most to anyone who will listen

He just thinks you’re so cool and amazing and wants everyone to know how smart you are

He will be the guy to ask you to speak in another language just to show off

He also thinks it’s really hot when you do that so he can never get enough of it

Will try and learn a bit of another language from you but he just doesn’t have the attention span for it

He’s much too focused on you and how good you sound speaking another language

He will be able to pick up some simple words and phrases though

Absolutely insists on learning how to say ‘I love you’ in every language you know because he’s sappy like that

In exchange he’ll tutor you in the STEM and business fields, which is where his talents lie

Even if you don’t find it very interesting, it’s still sweet how passionate he is about it and how he wants to share that with you

Sometimes when you get frustrated or angry with him you slip into another language to yell at him

He has no clue what you’re saying but he is heart eyes because he just loves it when you do that

Even though he definitely knows you are yelling at him

He may be really annoying and show you off all the time when you’re hanging out with friends but when the two of you are alone he is a huge softie for you

His heart literally swells so much when he hears you mumble something in another language

Or even when you sleep talk

He just can’t get enough of hearing it and it makes him want to kiss you all over

Osamu

Osamu is very chill when he realizes you speak another language

Even when he notices that you actually know multiple languages, he’s still very calm and doesn’t like to make a big deal about it

He definitely likes to call you his ‘smart baby’ though, but he’s never been one to brag

Except when Atsumu gets on his nerves

Then he uses you as his biggest bragging trick

He will make Atsumu feel so bad by talking about how amazing and smart you are and how he wishes he could be dating someone like you

Yeah Osamu isn’t usually competitive unless it’s Atsumu he’s talking to 

Not the type to outright ask you to teach him some sentences and phrases but he does pick them up from you

But he 100% asks you to teach him how to say different insults and swear words just to use them on Atsumu

Will also ask you to help him rehearse a conversation together in another language so that when you’re hanging out with Atsumu one day you guys can just switch to another language and make him feel left out

It’s actually very entertaining the lengths he will go to just to mess with his brother

He’d be the kind of person to learn to say something really sweet without you finding out and then surprise you with it one day

He knows just how to make your heart melt and is definitely very proud of himself for that

Sometimes he hears you sleep talking in another language and will wake up and just watch and listen to you as you sleep

He strokes your cheek really gently so he doesn’t wake you up and he’s got the softest smile on his face

Other times you forget the right word you’re looking for in one language and end up using another one instead

He always teases you for it but you know it’s all in good fun

He can’t even imagine juggling all those languages in your head

Tsukishima

Tsuki is a very studious person so he’s not super surprised to find out you’re multilingual

But he does use it as something to brag about when people get on his nerves

He just really proud of you and can’t help it sometimes

But he’s normally very lowkey about it and doesn’t want to make a big deal about it

But deep down he’s greatly inspired by you and wants to be more like you

You give him the drive to keep pushing himself and study some more

He’ll never be able to admit but he really likes it when you speak another language, there’s something so sensual about it

But he’s way too stubborn and bashful to say it out loud

So when you do slip into a different language, he listens intently and soaks up your every word

The first time you guys spend the night together his heart is racing like crazy 

He has a hard time falling asleep, but you seemed to do it with no problem

So he just watches you sleep for a minute until you open your mouth and start mumbling something

He thinks it’s really cute and then suddenly you’re speaking another language entirely

You’re mumbling a bit but still speaking fairly normally

He thinks it’s really cute and as much as he wants to just enjoy the moment he can’t pass up the chance to tease you

So he takes out his phone and records you sleep talking, not having a single clue what you were saying

He shows it to you the next morning and you’re so embarrassed

He still makes you translate whatever you were talking about so he can tease you some more though

Asahi

Asahi thought there was no way on earth he could fall more in love with you than he already was

But then he heard you speaking another language and his heart practically burst right on the spot

He’s literally so proud of you and is in constant awe

He definitely thinks you’re too good for him but he still hypes you up every chance he gets

He treats you like royalty and when you speak another language to him he nearly faints

It’s such a sweet treat to him, even if he’s heard you speak another language time and time again, he never gets tired of it

He is so determined to communicate with you that he will work so hard to have you teach him another language

He buys a dictionary, flashcards, notebook, literally everything he can get his hands on

He’s not amazing at it but he’s trying his best and honestly what more could you ask for?

The first time you fall asleep with him, it’s on accident on the couch while watching a movie

You’re resting on his chest and he wakes up because he can hear you saying something really softly 

When he finally comes to and makes out what’s happening, he realizes you’re talking in your sleep and it is in another language

His breath hitches in his throat and he does everything he can to remain calm and not wake you up

But on the inside he is freaking out at how cute you are!!

When you do eventually wake up, he asks you about the dream you just had

He really wants to try and figure out what you were saying in your sleep but he’s a bit too embarrassed to admit that he was listening to you

You unfortunately tell him that you don’t remember much about your dream 

He swears he is going to study so much so he can understand what you were saying next time

Sugawara

Suga is probably one of the ones who is most vocal about how proud he is of you

He is constantly giving you praises and compliments whenever he hears you switch to another language

Sometimes you switch over and you don’t even notice it

You’re so engrossed in whatever it is that you’re saying that he just doesn’t have the heart to tell you he has no idea what you’re talking about

When you do notice, you get very embarrassed but Suga just finds it all very endearing

He is someone that has you teach him simple phrases and words but he also works on his own to figure out simple sentence structures so he can talk with you more

Likes to have little study dates with you so he can improve 

One time during these dates you fell asleep and he just let you rest so he could study some more

You started mumbling something under your breath and that definitely caught his attention

He quietly moved close to where you were resting on the ground and tried to make out what you were saying

He quickly realized that you were speaking another language and grabbed his notebook and dictionary

He started taking notes on every word he could make out and tried looking them up in his dictionary so he could know what you were saying

You woke up to the sound of pages being flipped and you saw Suga sitting right next to you, with his dictionary in hand

You just thought he was studying really hard but when he noticed you had woken up he showed you his notes

He explained how you were talking in your sleep and he was trying to translate it

You immediately started laughing but did your best to translate the misspelled words he had scribble down in a hurry

He uses your sleep talking as a way to study now

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 5]

Part 5 is here! This part was so much fun to write and I can’t wait to see what you guys think! @prettyboycozens​ and I had so many ideas for this part and it was so much fun to write them! Enjoy!

“You-You came!” I stutter as he pulls away, finally catching my breath.

“You really think I would miss one of my girl’s biggest days?” He asks, his arms still wrapped around my waist, keeping me pressed against him.

“Hi Dylan.” Carter says, gently squeezing his arm as she walks past. He nods, glancing back at me.

“She’s doing okay? After everything?” Dylan asks, looking down at me as I rest my head against his chest. I nod, taking a deep breath to regain my composure.

“Glad to have you here. We would’ve missed you today.” Dad says, walking up and squeezing Dylan’s shoulder. Dad’s finally started to really warm up to the idea of Dylan being around. And while he hasn’t really been “around”, Dad and him have actually started texting and talking when I’m on the phone with Dylan every night. Usually I get Dylan for the majority of the night but Dad usually steals him from me for at least an hour. They talk hockey and all their boring guy stuff that I choose to not listen to.

“I’m glad I got to be here for my girl’s special day. But Avs, I wish I could stay longer. I have to be back tomorrow morning.” With that, my heart falls a little.

“So you’re only here for the night?” I ask, looking up at Dylan. He nods, leaning down to drop a kiss on my forehead. Dad ushers the rest of our family away and leaves Dylan and I to talk.

“I really need to spend some time with my girl though, so what do you say about heading home?” And head home we did. From the time we got home at 2:30 that afternoon to 5:30 in the morning when Dylan had to leave for the airport, I was attached to him. It was the shortest 15 hours of my life and I didn’t want it to end.

“Baby, I gotta get up.” Dylan whispers, gently pushing my hair out of my face. I sigh, realizing that my time with my boyfriend is coming to an end.

“I hate this just as much as you do. But it’s only a little longer. Just a couple more weeks.” Dylan says, letting me cuddle into his chest.

“Can you just hold me a little longer? I need something to hold me over till the draft.” He nods, his arms wrapping around me and lacing our fingers together. The next time Dylan and I would be together would be in June for the draft, a little over a month away. I had been away from him for longer before but getting him back, even for a little bit, would make me miss him more.

“You know you can call me, text me, anything, whenever. I’ll always answer. Well unless I’m busy but I’ll always make time for you, Sweetheart.” I nod, looking up at him. He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose.

“You’re beautiful.” Then he kisses my cheek.

“You’re smart.” He kisses my forehead.

“I’m in love with you.” And then, his lips ghost over mine.

“And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He whispers against my lips. His hand cups my cheek and he kisses me. It’s soft, gentle and loving.

“You make me not want to leave.” He whispers against my lips. I sit up and look at him, admiring him lying there in my bed.

“I like seeing you lying in my bed.” I whisper, tracing my finger down his chest. He smirks as I trace the outline of his abs.

“I like lying in your bed. Especially when you’re there with me. But, on that note, I need to get going. My flight leaves in 2 hours.” He says, punctuating his sentence by kissing me. Again, I sigh and he untangles his body from mine. As I sit up in bed and pull my knees into my chest, he starts moving around the room and gathering up the few things he brought with him.

“Hey I’m leaving this here. I want it back when I pick you up from the airport in June. It’ll be like I’m there with you at night.” Dylan says, holding up one of his Lethbridge Hurricanes sweatshirts. I lay my head on my arms and watch him, smiling.

“We’re gonna be okay, Kid. It’s gonna be alright.” He says, bending down to look at me.

“Ava Grace, I love you.” He says, kissing me again. I run my hand through his hair before he stands up and gets his bag.

“I love you too, Dyl. See you in June.” I say, finally climbing out of bed and hugging him. He lifts me off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist. After savoring having him close one last time before he leaves for the airport, he sets me down on the ground and kisses me one more time.

“The month is gonna fly by. Before you know it, I’ll get to kiss you again.” And those words were what kept me going for the whole month we were apart. Plus too many facetime calls and text messages. And finally, after way too long, I collided with Dylan in the middle of the airport.

“God, you guys must’ve missed each other or something.” Kirby says, from behind him. Carter coughs and Kirby’s eyes meet her’s. Dylan and I watch the exchange, his arm resting around my waist.

“Uh, hi...Carter.” Kirby says, looking at her. Neither Dylan or I had thought about the fact that Kirby and Carter hadn’t seen each other since they broke up. But I don’t go anywhere without Carter anymore and Kirby is being drafted too so we were bound to see him.

“Hey.” She says, running her hand through her hair and avoiding his eyes.

“So...Where’s the sweatshirt?” Dylan asks, looking down at me as we walk out of the airport, my duffel bag in Dylan’s hand.

“The sweatshirt is in the bag, and it doesn’t smell like you anymore so please fix that.” I say, looking up at him. He smiles and leans down to kiss my temple.

“I missed you, Baby.” He says, pulling me into his side as we head to the car. Even with the awkwardness of Carter and Kirby, it’s still the 4 of us. We’ve spent the last 2 years together and I was beyond thankful that what had happened between Kirby and Carter hadn’t changed our friendship.

The two days leading up to the draft were spent wandering around Vancouver, just Carter and I since the boys had interviews and meetings with important NHL people. But every night, Dylan came back to the hotel and me. We spent the nights watching movies, eating room service and cuddling. Carter and Kirby avoided each other at least the first day but then Kirby asked her to get coffee with him one morning and now I know they’re at least on talking terms.  

As I roll over in the bed Dylan and I have shared for the last two nights, I get hit with the realization that today would decide Dylan and I’s future.

It was draft day, probably the biggest day of his life. He was hiding how nervous he was really well, all things considered. We knew he would get picked pretty high, hopefully within the first 10 picks but we had no idea when or where he would go. But before all the fun and excitement could begin, he and I were going to lunch with his parents and brothers. This would be my first time meeting his family in person, instead of just over the phone or on facetime. I was a little nervous but Dylan said they all loved me already. Carter had disappeared around 11 last night and wasn’t in her room, which was connected to our’s, when I woke up to check at 4 in the morning. She and Kirby had seen each other for the first time in months two days ago, and I almost wonder if she ended up in Kirby’s bed last night. I shrug off the blankets and get out of bed. I still needed to shower and get ready before we met up with Dylan’s family.

“Come back!” I hear Dylan whine from the other side of the bed as I walk towards the bathroom.

“I have to get ready. We can cuddle later.” I say as I twist my hair up and clip it back out of my face.

“But I wanna cuddle now.” He complains, tossing a pillow in my general direction. I shake my head and disappear back into the bathroom. As I finish getting ready to get in the shower, I hear him finally get out of bed and start moving around. Suddenly, right as I’m about to get in the shower, the door flies open.

“You didn’t kiss me good morning.” He says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I clutch the towel I have wrapped around me a little tighter and rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. As I pull away, I roll my eyes and nudge him back out of the bathroom.

“Get ready while I’m in the shower please?” I call as I drop my towel on the counter and step into the shower.

“Okay miss bossy!” Dylan yells back, earning himself a smirk and another eye roll.

“You’re lucky you’re cute!” He calls as I turn the water on. I shake my head and focus on showering.

It’s fun being with Dylan. This is the longest we’ve spent together since graduation in May and I’m enjoying every minute of my time with him before the chaos that will be when we head to Buffalo. We’ve also been talking about our future together a lot lately. And I really love the idea of a future with him. Living with him in the summers, finishing school and becoming a nurse, getting married one day in the future, having kids. It sounds like heaven and the future I want more than anything. I want it all with Dylan. As I think about what that future will hopefully be like, Carter bursts into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Ava!” She says, pushing herself up onto the counter.

“Hi? Where were you last night?” I ask as I rinse the shampoo out of my hair.

“I may have ended up running into Kirby in the hallway…” I raise my eyebrow, opening the curtain a little to stick my head out and look at her. From the grin covering her face, I assume things went well.

“So you slept in his room?” I ask, returning to my shower.

“Well, there wasn’t much sleeping…” She says, giggling. I groan and shut the shower off.

“Carter Marie, hand me my towel. I don’t wanna hear the details of your night adventures with Kirby.” I say, sticking my hand out of the shower. She laughs, hands it to me and starts to ramble on about his mouth and fingers. I pretend to gag as I wrap the towel around my body.

“Please for the love of God stop!” I shout, rushing out of the bathroom and away from her. Dylan looks up from where he’s sitting on our bed and raises an eyebrow.

“Do I even want to know?” He asks as Carter follows me out of the bathroom. She smirks and shakes her head.

“You two are going to lunch before the draft right?” Carter asks, flopping onto the bed behind Dylan as I dig through my suitcase for the black skirt and white long sleeve shirt that’s open in the back I packed to wear to lunch. Dylan was just wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt, keeping it casual since it’s just his family.

“Yeah. We’ll be out till like 1:30ish and then come back here and start getting ready then and leave around 3ish to go to the arena.” Dylan answers. Carter nods, watching me attempt to get dressed without flashing her and Dylan.

“So we have to be ready by 2:45?” I ask, checking my outfit in the mirror. As I’m heading back into the bathroom to start doing my makeup and hair, there’s a knock on our door. As I start blow drying my hair, Kirby walks past and waves. The 3 of them spend the next 45 minutes hanging out while I get ready.

“Stop freaking out Ava. They’re gonna like you.” Kirby says as he and Carter walk with us down to the lobby of the hotel.

“You’ve already met all of them over the phone. What’s different now?” Carter asks, leaning against Kirby as we stand by the door. Dylan’s arm is around my waist and he seems to be thinking about something.

“Go have fun you two! Ava, you’ll be fine!” Carter calls as we head out to Dylan’s car.

“You seem so calm today. I’m the one freaking out. Or are you super nervous and just hiding it?” I ask as he opens the passenger side door for me.

“I honestly haven’t thought about it a lot today. I know I’m going 1st round and that’s all I care about. Plus you’re here, with me and honestly, that’s all I care about.” He says, smiling and leaning over to kiss me softly. My hand cups his cheek and as he pulls away, he smiles.

“I love you. But I’m still freaking out.” He rolls his eyes and starts the car. We’re going to a restaurant in downtown Vancouver, some place that Jack’s older brother recommended. It’s about a 20 minute drive from the hotel and Dylan’s hand doesn’t leave mine. We’re going through another phase where we have to constantly be touching each other. For me, it’s mostly just reassuring me that he’s actually there with me and it’s not all just my imagination. He just enjoys the fact that he can put his hands in places and get me to blush. Last night, while we were watching some show he had picked off of Netflix, he had stolen a kiss but just as quickly as he had pulled away, things heated back up. I ended up straddling him, my fingers in his hair and his hands resting dangerously close to my ass. I was willing to keep going with him but he stopped, looked at me and sighed.

“I want the first time with you to be perfect. You deserve it. But I wouldn’t mind making out with you a little more.” I smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, the show on Netflix long forgotten.

“Ava and Dylan are here!” Luke yells, running towards the two of us as Dylan and I climb out of the car at the restaurant. He immediately hugs Dylan and then turns to me.

“She’s hot.” Luke says, looking over at Dylan. Dylan shoves his brother and smirks.

“I know she’s hot. She’s my girlfriend.” Dylan says as he takes my hand.

“Hi Mom, Dad. What’s up Connor?” Dylan says, hugging his parents and then dabbing his brother up.

“Hello Ava, nice to finally meet you in person!” Dylan’s mom says, reaching out and hugging me.

“Hi Mrs. Cozens! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She pulls back and looks at me.

“Sweetheart, you can call me Sue. You’re practically family anyways.” I smile and look back at Dylan who is grinning. I slide back over to his side and look up at him.

“I seriously love you so much.” He says, kissing the top of my head and following his parents into the restaurant. His brothers bombard me with questions the whole time, making sure my face does not fade from bright red. Dylan just laughs, occasionally defending me every once in a while. His parents are absolutely amazing and the sweetest people.

“You know, Ava, I’m a really good hugger. And cuddler.” Luke says, crossing his arms and looking over at me. Dylan coughs, choking on the drink of water he had just taken.

“Oh are you? Better than Dylan?” He nods, a smirk growing on his face. Dylan’s two little brothers look alike and both look like him. They’re obviously close and love each other a lot. Both of the younger boys look up to Dylan a lot, that’s obvious from some of the things they’ve said tonight while talking about the draft.

“I’m much better than Dylan. Plus I’ve got the muscles. Dyl doesn’t have that.” I laugh and smile, patting Dylan’s thigh.

“I might have to leave you for Luke, Honey.” Dylan pretends to be sad and everyone laughs. The rest of the time is spent laughing, joking and just getting to know each other. I love being with their family.

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about.” Dylan says after we part ways with his family for the next few hours. It’s time to head back to the hotel to get ready for the draft and honestly, I’m getting more and more nervous for Dylan. He seems perfectly calm, cool and collected; just like he always is. Carter meets the two of us back at the hotel and helps me get ready. She picked out a navy blue wrap around dress with a lower cut in the front, and black heels. She manages to get my hair to hold curls for longer than 30 seconds and works her magic on my face.

“I swear, you’re a magician.” I say, glancing in the mirror as she stands behind me, smiling.

“No, you’re just that pretty.” She says, hugging my shoulders. Kirby, Dylan, Carter and I are all riding the NHL charter bus to the arena, since the boys both are being featured in some welcome to the NHL thing. Dylan keeps me by his side at all times, even during all the interviews and important things before the draft. But eventually, he gets pulled away and Carter swoops in to wander around with me.

“I know I’ve told you at least 10 times but you look hot.” Carter says, nudging me as we walk into the arena.

“Only because you’re my personal stylist.” I laugh, linking my arm through her’s. She flips her hair and we both laugh.

“Hey Ava, Carter.” Jack says, nodding at both of us as we walk past.

“Okay I know I’ve said this at least 10 times but he’s hot too. My God.” Carter whispers, watching Jack walk away. I roll my eyes and laugh. About 20 minutes later, Dylan and Kirby find us and take us to our seats for the night. Everything seems like a blur after that. The first 6 picks come and go and Dylan is still sitting next to me. His knee is shaking and I press my hand to it, causing him to freeze and look at me.

“You’re okay, Honey.” And as he looks at me, the definition of love in his eyes, the Sabres logo goes up on the screen.          

“To announce our 7th overall pick, please welcome to the stage 1st overall pick in the 2005 draft and captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins, Sidney Crosby.” The Sabres’ GM announces. Dylan looks over at me, a confused look covering his face. Both his parents and his brother are whispering back and forth. The whole arena is buzzing, trying to figure out why Sidney Crosby, a Penguin, is announcing the Sabres’ draft pick.

“With the 7th overall pick, the Buffalo Sabres select from the Lethbridge Hurricanes, Dylan Cozens.” Dad says, smiling and stepping away from the podium. Dylan stands up, a huge grin across his face and pulls me in for a hug.

“Did you know about this?” He asks as he hugs me. I shake my head and bite back the urge to cry. As he hugs his parents, Dad happens to look up to where we’re sitting. I wave and blow him a kiss. I had no idea about him announcing Dylan’s draft pick but it makes me smile so hard. Dad really has accepted Dylan as part of our family and I know he loves the idea of Dylan and I having a future together.

“Did you know your dad was announcing Dylan’s pick?” Carter asks me, dragging Kirby behind her as we meet up after the draft.

“No! I didn’t even know Dad was coming up here!” I say, looking behind me as Dylan’s arms encircle my waist.

“Your dad is looking for you.” He says before kissing my cheek. I turn in his arms and slide my hands around his neck, pulling him down to kiss me.

“Congratulations, Baby.” I whisper, kissing him again. He still has a goofy grin plastered on his face as my dad suddenly appears next to us.

“Daddy! Why didn’t you tell me you were announcing his pick?” I ask, hugging him and then looking up at him.

“It was supposed to be a surprise. Congratulations, Dylan. You’re going to do great things in Buffalo.” Dad says, surprisingly hugging Dylan. I try to hide my surprise and cover my mouth. Dylan steps away from Dad and grins.

“Thank you, Sir. It means a lot, hearing you announce me being picked.” Dad smiles and then gets pulled away to either do an interview or talk to some important person. Dylan returns to me and I attach myself to his side.

“I’m proud of you.” I say, looking up at him. He smiles and traces circles on my back. Carter and Kirby are off, talking to Kirby’s parents. Kirby keeps glancing down at Carter who is talking animatedly to his mom and has this lovestruck grin on his face.

“Hey, I’m getting tired and I’m done with everything for the night. Ready to head back to the hotel? Our bed is calling my name.” Dylan says, pushing my hair behind my ear as he strokes my cheek. I nod, leaning into his hand. He interlaces our fingers and leads me out of the crowded room. The walk out to our car is short and the drive to the hotel only a few minutes but it feels like an eternity. Dylan and I have been around people all day and I’m ready for it to just be the two of us. He opens the passenger door for me, helping me out. He immediately pulls me to his side and we head into the hotel. Dylan’s hand rests dangerously low as we walk back into the hotel lobby. People keep coming up and congratulating him, which makes his smile grow every time. I’m so proud of him and I love seeing him this happy. But as his hands settled on my hips, tracing lazy circles, as we waited for the elevator, I start to think. The elevator doors open and he tugs me into the elevator, keeping me pressed up against him. He starts to kiss the side of my neck as I smile, thankful there’s no one else in the elevator but us. Carter and Kirby had disappeared not long after the draft ended, Dad had said hi to us then got on a flight to my grandparents. Dylan’s family had gone out to dinner with Kirby’s family so we had no responsibility and didn’t have to be anywhere.

“Did I tell you how good you looked tonight?” He whispers, his voice making me shiver.

“Y-You did.” I stutter, giving away what he was doing to me. As the elevator dings, meaning we arrived at our floor, he leaves me, leaning out the door to make sure no one is in the hallway. He then scoops me up and carries me to our door, only stopping to unlock the door. Dylan drops me on the bed and hovers over me, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up.

“Hi.” He says, smiling at me.

“Hi bub.” Our eyes lock and his flick down to my lips. He bites his and I sit up on my elbows and kiss him. His hands come up and cup my cheeks, deepening the kiss. I pull away, his hands still on my face and I smile.

“I wondered if you were feeling how I feel.” He says, stroking my cheek. I lay back down on the bed and he hovers above me.

“So is this how we’re celebrating?” I ask, looking up at him innocently.  He looks up through his eye lashes, making sure the door to Carter’s room is shut, and then back down at me and nods. I pull my feet up under me as he steps back and shrugs off his jacket, loosening his tie and tossing it to the floor, then starting to unbutton his shirt. I watch him, untying the tie on my dress and letting it slowly fall off my body, keeping direct eye contact the whole time. Dylan smirks as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers, moving towards me tilting my chin up to kiss me. He pulls away slowly and sits down on the bed next to me and I climb onto his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist and tilt his chin up to look at me. He kisses me and then slowly, I lay him down on the bed.  His hands are on my hips, holding me close to him. I sit there, straddling him as his lips trail up and down my stomach. I grind my hips slowly against his as he moves us up the bed, one hand pressed into my back, keeping me on top of him, until he’s resting against the wall behind the bed. My hands, which had been pressed into his chest, are now pinned to the sides by his hips. His arms, strong and skillful on the ice, and his fingers, just the same, are even better in bed. He uses them to hold my hands down while he leaves marks in places only we can see. His name escapes my lips and my head falls back. Everything blurs as his hands explore more and soon, the few remaining clothes are scattered around the room and we’re both breathing hard. As I lay there, listening to his heartbeat and held close to his chest, the world seemed to stop. But not in the way you would think. It felt like everything fell away, that all that mattered was being here, with Dylan.

“I love you, you know that right?” I asked, looking up at him. His face is covered in a peaceful smile, a few strands of my hair twisted between his fingers.

“I know you love me. And you know what? I love you.” I smile, burying my face in his neck and closing my eyes.

“I’ve never doubted it.”

Tag list:

@theblushinglittle

@2manytabsopen

@nhlboyshavemyhart88

@kirbyy-dach

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

"Won't it suck, Cas?" Dean declares, as Castiel enters their room with bags hoisted on both shoulders, and elbows the door shut behind him - because apparently when you're pretending to date in front of your parents, sometimes they turn out awesome enough for you to get to - or, Dean supposes he should say, have to share a room.

Cas puts the bags down, next to their bed.

"Won't it totally, and completely, and really suck if our cover blew?"

"Who suspects what?" Cas turns, with a frustrated frown. Which soon flips to a planning, expressionless face. "Because I've still got some of those baking-stories left. I believe I can swing them into a conversation." Cas folds his arms. "And you should come with me. You tell them great, because it's the one thing which isn't a lie."

That - isn't completely fair.

A lot of things, at least as far as Dean sees them, have not been lies.

Dean does make Cas coffee every morning, sometimes takes it to his bedroom too, and Cas does do most of the shopping for the flat - there's this inside joke Dean has going with Cas's brother Gabriel, that the employees at Walmart are terrified of Cas because he once threatened someone over pie, which he never forgets, and Dean always gets so soft over that story.

They do share clothes sometimes, even if it's just ratty t-shirts they'll never wear outside, and they do have movie nights every Thursday where Dean comes up with amazing films and Cas unpreventably falls asleep in the middle of them. And they did name all of Cas's bees one night, drunk and dreamy on the balcony.

Sure, they don't fall asleep in each other's arms later, or do the couple-y things they've had to edit into otherwise real stories, but Dean thinks he makes up for it by being in all kinds of love with Cas.

Not that Cas knows, of course.

"Well, I don't doubt that you've got enough adorability ammo." Dean returns, grinning. "We are pretty cute, to be fair. And, nope." He clarifies. "Nobody doubts that we're not dating yet."

When opportunity had presented itself a couple weeks ago, at the beginning of December, Dean had found in himself just enough courage to ask Cas if he'd be okay with being his fake-date for New Year's, since he was spending it with the Winchesters anyways - adding hurriedly, that if Cas felt weirdly about it at all, he could drop the idea right there, and he'd quietly just go off in search of someone else and not bring it up again.

Cas had blinked at him a few times before saying okay, and what a wonderful understatement that had been because by the time they had to leave for Kansas, Cas was more invested in the program than he'd ever been.

"Yet?" Cas recoils, eyebrows knitted together. "What are you implying, Dean?"

What had started off as a means to shirk off lectures from his family, was now being treated like a mission. But as of the moment, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed - Dean is happy. He's around the people he loves most, and well-fed on a heavy homemade lunch and two beers, and he's feeling light-hearted and brave.

"Tonight's fireworks night." Dean shrugs, trying to go for nonchalant and hoping he lands in non-shy, at the very least. "Out by the riverfront, sitting on blankets on the grass, and staring up at the night sky - the whole shebang."

"So?"

"People will probably expect us to kiss." Dean clears his throat, studying Cas's face for reactions. There's nothing for him there, but he doesn't stop staring. "And since we can't do that, we might -"

"I -" Cas interrupts, and maybe he's blushing a little. Jesus, Dean hopes he is. "I can."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Kiss, I mean."

And fuck that fucking fucker for not specifying that he can kiss Dean, because those words, strung together in a sentence and delivered in Cas's glorious fucking voice would've automatically sent Dean to paradise.

Dean's run out of things to say so he lets out a sound that's supposed to be the wordless equivalent of a 'huh'.

"I-if we had to." Cas adds, uncertainly. "Couldn't you?" He asks, and the ball is back in Dean's pitiable court.

"No, yeah." Dean supplies, and his voice cracks unhelpfully. He clears his throat and braves on to previously untraversed territory. "I could. Sure, I could."

That's one too many, and Dean wants to swallow his words back but Cas has already heard them, and there's a slow smile stretching slowly on his features.

"Then what's the problem?"

"It'd be obvious," Dean answers him, matter-of-factly. "Way too obvious that it's our first kiss. The, uh." He can't believe he's actually saying these words. "Being that close, basically. First times are bound to be weird - just the very newness of someone's lips on yours." He's goddamn rambling but he isn't going to be the first to acknowledge whose, either.

Cas's cheeks are sufficiently pink by now for Dean to feel a little bit triumphant. But then it's his turn. "You're not wrong." He begins, nodding seriously, in spite of his flustered voice. "It takes all couples a while to fall into rhythm. Sync up pace, get comfortable touching each other, and grow familiar with their partner's technique."

They're both just saying words now, and it doesn't really mean much - in fact, it's infinitesimal as compared to the lengths being exchanged by means of a long-held stare.

Questions are proposed within the silence, and permissions are granted in whispers.

"Not for nothing," Dean finally says out loud. "But maybe we should get the first time out of the way."

Cas steps closer, and there's a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe we should." Dean keeps on staring, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips. "Maybe, right away."

Dean stands up, breathing out traces of a 'yes' and Cas is right there. He's so close, and so gorgeous, and just that one inch shorter - so Dean can just lean in and Cas will probably go on his toes a little bit, and it'll be like they're meeting in the middle, and -

Dean's so lost thinking about it that he almost misses the first spark which goes through him like goddamn electricity in his veins, when Cas's hand cups his cheek, fingers splayed on his neck and thumb oh-so-close to his lips.

Dean can feel his breath hitch when Cas gently runs the pad of his thumb across the bottom lining of Dean's lower lip, and he doesn't have a single thought in his head except for Cas, Cas, Cas, as he reaches forward to grab the lapels of his coat and closes the gap.

He knows he's probably expected to ingest the intricacies of how the kiss feels - the details of Cas's taste and smell and touch; the curve of his lips, the stubble across his jaw, and his hand on Dean's face.

But far from mapping Cas's fucking technique - Dean can't even process when he's supposed to pull back. All he can do is stay, hands entangled in Cas's coat, and trapped between them, eyes closed but all other senses overly sensitive to everything Cas does.

It's not like he doesn't do his bit, but that's all instinct - his brain's signed out for the day, and this is just his nerves in command. It should be terrifying, feeling this lost - or more appropriately, afloat, in the middle of a kiss, but as their noses bump and lips collide, in slightly different angles each time they pull off to gasp for breath, it just feels right.

It feels real.

Their first kiss isn't just one kiss, Dean muses, as they separate finally but linger. It's an amalgamation of a thousand kisses, and a half a thousand breaths because Cas kept taking his away - and it's the way Cas's hand came to rest on Dean's arm, and Dean's fingers clutching a soft material which is more Cas than anything else he owns, and it's every little everything, and then some.

"Wow." Dean sighs, and he doesn't even regret sounding as overwhelmed as he does. "Cas, I - wow."

He's never been kissed like that.

Cas looks back at him a little starry-eyed, and proceeds to relax into a gummy smile instead of words - and it's happy, and lovely, and perfect.

"I might be wrong," He mutters, stepping ahead, and there's no space left, so Dean falls back to sit on the bed in surprise. "But second kisses can be pretty tricky too."

"Right." Dean scoots on backwards on the mattress, and Cas follows, climbing on the bed. "Right, yeah, with all the pressure from the first -"

"And the relatively newfound elements of intimacy -"

"And the -" Dean tries to add, but Cas is unbelievably kissable, just leaning over him, with his smile and his eyes and his hands, and Dean stops himself short. "We just really shouldn't risk it."

And that's all the preamble before he's pulled Cas over him, lips desperately seeking out all the right places to be, and their hands all over the place like they're trying to make up for years of tension in a single minute - but after a while, they're back to kissing slow and deep and warm, and he's wrapped his hands around Castiel's neck - and Castiel's fingers ghost over his spine every now and then, from where his hands rest on Dean's waist -

And it's everything Dean's ever wanted it to be.

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 03.

[4:15 p.m.] Disappointment tweaks at Seungwan’s heart when she peers through the huge glass window of their study cafe and sees no Bae Joohyun. 

. . . . .

A group of students are huddled in the back, bent over open textbooks, laptops and scattered stationary. 

Yerimie, Saeron, Seul, wow, there’s Jennie sunbaenim. And she spies Sooyoung sunbaenim balancing a tray of various caffeine-injected drinks back to the table.

A sad sigh escapes her lips. Perhaps she’s l–

“Seungwan?” 

Oh my g– what the–?! Seungwan screams, whipping around in shock at the fingers gently resting on the back of her shoulder. She’s met with a slightly surprised Joohyun, standing there wearing a cream Jute blouse tucked into denim jeans, twinkling eyes and endless amusement etched into rosebud lips. 

“S-Sunbae!” She exclaims, grasping her chest to calm her rapid-fire heart. “Y-You’re here, I was just–”

What, peering through the glass, looking for you like a creep? 

“It’s fine,” Joohyun chuckles, adjusting her hold on the stack of thick notebooks cradled in her arm and motioning for the younger girl to lead the way. “Let’s go. This is heavy.”

Thursdays might’ve found an unexpected favour with Son Seungwan.

Busy eyes move from annotating to the two girls urgently making their way over, the students lifting their heads at Seungwan’s warm greeting. 

“Sorry we’re late,” she sincerely apologises. 

Jennie knowingly eyes her friend. “Not surprised.” 

Joohyun raises her a playfully challenging brow before slipping into the free seat next to Sooyoung at the end of the table, right across her partner.

“You ordering anything, Wan?” Seulgi asks between highlighting her page, offering her and Joohyun biscuits in individually wrapped aluminium packets.

Joohyun takes one and Seungwan nibbles on the edge of her biscuit, deep in thought. The group soon slips into the robotic rhythm of monochromatic scribbling, greyscale note-taking, typing, and intermittent snacking. Jennie slips away to order small desserts for everyone at the table. They thank her with shocked bows and hungry stares, unable to settle on one in the garland of appetising coloured treats on the tiny table.

“Sunbae, you’re like Santa Claus,” Seulgi happily attacks the New York baked cheesecake. “When did you order this? It’s like we were asleep and we just woke up to presents!”

Her bearish enthusiasm has an observant Sooyoung unconsciously smiling around her fork.

As the group tucks in, Seungwan thinks a group study date is the safest she can be in terms of being on the receiving end of any more of her senior’s teasing mannerisms.

Fortunately, Joohyun always surprises her.

A little later on, they’re discussing the historical impact of contemporary Korean literature. Right in the middle of a sentence, Seungwan’s concentration is shattered by a deep blush of raspberry when she feels a feather-light graze against her right Adidas sweatpant leg. She chokes, almond eyes shooting up from messy essay notes, silently begging for mercy. But of course, Joohyun’s serene, unbothered expression gives nothing away as she continues to ask for her opinion as though Seungwan is crazy for looking like a flustered mess. 

The frazzled junior doesn’t know what makes her head spin more; the fact that Joohyun, composed as ever, initiated a game of footsie right under both their friends’ noses in public… or that she secretly enjoys it.

Not that she’ll ever admit to the latter.

Small fists corkscrew the sleeves of her sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie as the desperation to hide the cherry-blossom tint in her cheeks builds.

. . . . .

It’s past midnight by the time they’re done, and everyone bids goodbye with ‘Z’s coming out of their ears. Much to everyone’s surprise, Sooyoung and Seulgi got along pretty well this evening and the taller girl had hastily agreed when Seulgi suggested they visit her favourite boba place. Yerim and Saeron were late for their movie, and Jennie was spending the weekend at her girlfriends’.

“Wait, are we dumb? Why did we book this now,” Saeron asks incredulously, “aren’t you gonna get wrecked by grumpy ajumma? Curfew ended like ten minutes ago.”

“Ah who cares, she’s always like that,” Yerim retorts with a dismissive wave. “I could fill a prison wall with how many strikes she’s given me and Seungwan and Seulgi unnie.” She slings an arm over Saeron’s shoulder, urging them to hurry. “C’mon, ads don’t take forever.”

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi calls back as she’s being dragged away by an eager Sooyoung, “if you order pizza can you leave some out for me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy. Don’t wake me up.”

“Hyun-ah, you sure you’re not coming?” Jennie’s sleek midnight-black Vetements cardigan blends with the hues of the night sky, giving away how late it is. She swipes into her messages. “Chaeng said she doesn’t mind.” 

Joohyun laughs with mock disgust. “Thanks Jen, but I’m not crashing your date-nights anymore, thank you very much. I saw enough the last time, my eyes can’t take that kind of stuff.”

Waving goodbye, Jennie and Chaeyoung speed off, leaving Seungwan wondering what ‘kind of stuff’ Joohyun could be referring to.

The pair are drawn to the horribly lit bus stop and just about the only source of light for miles. 

Seungwan yawns silently, but she doesn’t mind waiting with Joohyun. It’s late and although her apartment is in the opposite direction, she’d be at ease knowing her friend got home safely.

The darkness is engulfing, allowing an overhead street lamp to bathe them in its flicking spotlight like stars in a West End Production. 

“We were pretty productive today, sunbae,” the younger tries to make conversation to fill the space between them. “Do you wanna come for next week’s session too?”

“Sure,” comes the reply. “Thanks for waiting with me. When’s your ride getting here? We should’ve booked at the same time.”

Seungwan nervously scratches the back of her neck, crinkling her worksheets in her grip. “Uh, I’m just walking home tonight actually.”

“Oh? Do you live closeby?” she asks in surprise, assuming they were both waiting for taxis.

“Ah, yes, I’m just– it’s just down there.”

Joohyun narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Down there… where.”

“Just a quick walk, past… past the duck pond,” the girl mumbles, staring down at her shoes.

“Q-Quick? Quick?” Joohyun stutters, malfunctioning at their severely clashing definitions of ‘close’. A delicate fist draws back and Seungwan flinches, Bae Joohyun looking closer and closer to doing what she did to Lucas to her poor, startled junior. “The duck pond near uni? Yah, Son Seungwan, that’s almost a twenty minute walk from here.” 

“Fifteen if I have my speed walking playlist on,” Seungwan tries, but she isn’t listening.

“A lot of dangerous things can happen in twenty minutes, you know.” She hurriedly unlocks her phone and clicks into the KakaoTaxi app, altering the destination to add a stop and shoving it into reluctant hands. “Hurry, put your address in.” 

Seungwan so badly wants to politely decline, not confident in her ability to sit in a moving vehicle with such a pretty person without hurling herself out the window at top speeds. But the latter’s glare dares her to try.

With shaky fingers, she successfully types in her address after three tries and hands it back. Joohyun checks it and confirms the change. Seungwan wants to comment on how her frantic nature is actually really endearing, but she resists, thinking she’s still cooling off from it.

“Thank you, sunbae,” she bows instead. She even tries to insist she pay her share of the ride, but Joohyun refuses, saying it’s what she gets for thinking it was a good idea to walk home alone.

Finally, a black Sedan pulls up to the curb and the driver winds down his window. “KakaoBlack for Bae Joohyun?” He checks, looking as ready as both girls are to go home and crash for the night. 

The girl nods, opening the door for Seungwan to get into the backseat and climbing in after her.

Grand streaks of neon dance across the car windows, falling behind as quickly as they appear. Seungwan tears her gaze from the rapid city lights when she hears her name. 

An almost child-like excitement masks Joohyun’s usually steely features when Seungwan hums questioningly, not having heard what she’d said. “I said unnie,” she repeats, “you should call me unnie now that we’re closer. Honestly, I wanted to correct you this evening, but I never got the chance to. Aish, everyone was so noisy.”

The topic of noise has Joohyun distracted, suddenly popping off on a tangent about how sound-proof couple study rooms should be integrated in cafes and student-dense areas alike. But Seungwan finds it hard to focus on anything other than those glowing eyes and that tiny, lopsided smile.

For the rest of the journey, the two exchange stories of their university life experiences, life outside classrooms and even a few laughs; mostly on Joohyun’s part at how Seungwan seems to have the most prankish roommates slash best friends in the world. She loses it at ‘carbonara shampoo’, finding the idea wickedly genius and hilariously absurd altogether. Uncontrollable cackling booms in the backseat and Seungwan can’t help but giggle too, ears saturated with Joohyun’s chimerical laughter.

Eventually, the street lights and the houses start looking familiar and they’re pulled into a student apartment lobby before either of them knows where the time went. Joohyun can see the grumpy ajumma at reception wearing a frown, but she doesn't know it’s because someone’s gone over curfew. Again.

“Goodnight Seungwan.”

“Goodnight… unnie.” Seungwan wishes, ignoring the way their new closeness unfolds her heart like a secretly passed note. “Stay safe, and message me when you get back!”

Making to get out of the car, she flinches when she’s unable to fully stand up. Gulping, she glances over her shoulder to see Joohyun holding her back by her bag straps. In her sleepy state, the younger can’t tell if that intently searching gaze is serious or not.

“By the way, when you were looking into the cafe from outside this evening, you weren’t checking Jennie or Sooyoung out, were you?”

Seungwan shakes her head truthfully. “Why?”

“Good.” A cat-like smirk graces her lips and Seungwan’s stomach drops. “Just making sure.”

. . . . .

[lauraashley93]

Another try at fanfiction. I debated for a good minute about posting this because I don’t feel like it’s as good but eh. Here it is.

Halloween scare

Reader and a couple of the Mayans are coming over for Halloween fun when things start getting a little spooky!

Warnings: none? Swearing?

*

It was Halloween night and Coco, Letty, Ez and Angel were all going to your house to watch scary movies and eat popcorn all night. You had spent all day decorating. You had all the lights off. Candles lit everywhere giving off that spooky feeling. Those silly wine glasses that looked like they were being held by Skelton hands filled with everyone’s drink of choice, big orange and black bowls filled with everything to chips and dip, popcorn and candy. You literally researched every “piss your pants” scary movie known to man to make sure there were no boring ones to slip through. You were dressed in your super fuzzy and soft pumpkin pajama pants with your over sized black shirt that had a ghost on it. To say you were completely extra was an understatement but you were excited and couldn’t wait for everyone to get there.

Soon enough everyone arrived. Letty was admiring all your work and Angel laughed and shook his head.

“Y/n you really have an obsession. There’s gotta be like a Halloween anonymous for you to attend.”

You narrowed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. “Very funny Reyes. Halloween is literally the BEST holiday. We WOULD be finding haunted houses to attend but SOMEONE is a party pooper.”

You rolled your eyes at Angel who just waved you off.

“Those are lame. Not even worth the money. They aren’t even scary. I have to look at Coco every day, now that, that is scary.“

Letty shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds kinda great to me! Being scared is fun.”

Ez laughed. “It’s alright guys. Angel is just scared he will piss his pants in front of everyone. “

Angel scoffed at his little brother as Coco laughed

“Yeah Angel. Wouldn’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of” coco nodded to you and Angel elbowed coco before he could finish his sentence and shot him a glare. You were too busy laughing and putting in the first movie to notice the little exchange though.

“Okay okay, settle down children. Let’s get this party started!!” You said excitedly as you clapped your hands together.

You sat on the end of the couch followed by Angel. Ez sat on your recliner while Letty and Coco sat on the mess of blankets and pillows you had on the floor. You turned on the first movie and the marathon began.

Three movies later as you’re engulfed in the movie the conjuring you hear a noise in your attic. You furrow your eyebrows together and pause the movie.

“Hey! What are you doing it was just getting good!” Coco shouted in frustration.

“Hush! Didn’t you hear that?” You whispered a look of worry covering your face.

Ez rolled his eyes. “Y/n, you’re just being paranoid. Calm down and watch the movie. “

Angel laughed “yeah mami quit being such a scaredy-cat!”

Letty looked at the guys “no, I heard it too! What if it’s a ghost! Or a killer?!”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Really? Three movies in and you guys are already being ridiculous. And you think you could make it through a haunted house?”

Ez laughed “look, it’s probably just the wind. It is pretty windy out tonight. Just relax. If there is anymore noises I’ll go check it out to ease your mind.”

You pout and snuggle to your blanket and replay the movie but your attention isn’t quite on the movie anymore. Your paranoia is getting to you and you realize that as soon as Letty moves to stretch and you scream because the sudden movement startles you. Everyone is looking at you and you laugh nervously.

“I think I’m gonna go get more beer. Anyone want anything?”

Letty shakes her head. “No, but I’ll go with you.”

You both walk into the kitchen as the boys continue to watch the movie coco turns his attention to Angel.

“So, Hermano, when you gonna man up and make a move on y/n?”

Angels eyes grow wide as he looks at Coco. “What are you a fucking girl? This isn’t a slumber party and we ain’t gossiping so suck a dick bro.”

Ez laughs “come on Angel why so defensive? Why not just go for it?”

“Because dumbass. She, she isn’t into me. Besides, we’re best friends. ”

Ez rolled his eyes “oh quit being a pussy and ask her. You aren’t scared of ghost and goblins but when it comes to a y/h spunky girl, you freeze up. “

Ez and coco laugh as Angel stares daggers at them as y/n walks back into the room.

“What’s so funny you stooges?”

Ez smiles and shakes his head “not a thing mami, not a thing. “

Coco looks around and furrows his brow. “Where’s Letty?”

You look around and shrug. “I don’t know. I thought she came back out here. Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

Right then you all heard a loud scream. Coco jumped up and ran to the back the three of you following close behind him as you start flipping on all the lights.

“She’s probably trying to scare y/n” Ez says trying to relax everyone.

“Letty, leticia! Where are you?” Coco yelled

“Come on Letty this shit ain’t funny” y/n yelled.

The lights start to flicker until they completely shut off. Everything goes quiet for a few moments as the lights turn back on. Angel looks around making sure he sees you first a sigh of relief seeing you’re safe. You smile and grab his hand you look at Coco and grab his hand next holding on tight as if they’re going to disappear.

“Where’s Ez?” You ask.

Angel looks around “EZ? Letty? Yo quit playing your stupid game. It’s getting old and I wanna finish the movie.”

Y/n whispers “you really think they are just playing a prank??”

Angel nods “pff yeah. All that talk about haunted houses not being scary. Probably just trying to pull a fast one. The shit is stupid.”

Coco nods. “Yeah, well shit ain’t funny no more. Leticia get your fucking ass out here or you’re grounded.”

Y/n raises an eyebrow at Coco, trying not to laugh at his attempt at fatherly demands.

“Grounded?” Angel asks the humor in his voice clear as day. “She would beat your ass before she let you ground her papi coco”

Y/n laughed but quickly recovered as Coco glared at the two of you.

“Aye she knows I ain’t playing. We got a mutual respect of things. And making me think a ghost fuckin snatched her ass is grounds for grounding.”

Coco went to go say something else as the lights went off again this time you hear glass shatter and felt Coco’s hand being snatched out of yours as he starts yelling.

“Aye get the fuck off me. I ain’t the one Im gon’ fuck you up. “

“COCO!” Y/n yells

It’s quiet now. Nothing but the sound of the clock ticking as you wait for the lights to come on and you hear Angel sigh.

“So he’s in on it to? Come on guys. You’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

You’re shaking at this point as you’re holding on to Angel. “I don’t think this is a joke, Angel. I’m scared.”

Angels heart races as you hold him tightly and he wraps his arms back around you.

“It’s okay y/n. I gotchu. They’re just trying to pull a Halloween prank. ”

The lights come back on as you look around. The crashing noise had been a vase and Coco was no where to be seen. Angel was getting annoyed.

“Alright shit heads games over. Come out.”

The lights flickered again your grip tightened on Angel and there was a noise behind you. You both turn around as the lights flicker there is a figure at the end of the hall. It’s black shape and white face staring back at you. It slowly raises its hand Pointing toward the two of you.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Bravo guys. “

Angel speaks out to the figure and the lights turn out again. You hold your breath as you hear the floor creak. Gripping on to Angel so tight your hand start to hurt. You can swear the creaking gets louder and closer until... it stops. the air is thick and you can swear you hear angels heart rate quicken. A few seconds feels like hours until.. the light pops on and BAM the figure is right there you scream as it grabs ahold of you and drags you back like it’s simply floating quickly across the floor. Angels eyes go wide

“ y/n!!! NO! LET HER GO YOU SON OF A BITCH”

“ANGEL! HELP ME.” You scream. Desperate to get out of the grips of whatever has a hold of you.

Angel takes off running as the lights turn off again. He stops, breathing heavily. Continuing to slowly walk forward.

“Y/n where are you??” His voice is shaky.

He hears something behind him and he turns around quickly trying to see through the darkness. “Y/!n? Coco? Letty? Ez?”

He continues to walk until he feels like he hits a brick wall. He stops, swallows hard and looks up just in time for the lights to come on. He backs up to take in the full picture. A big man in butcher like clothes with blood all over them. A face that looks like it has been cut and rotted? Glossed over eyes, almost zombie like... but zombies aren’t real..are they?

His mind is spazzing as he finally looks down seeing him drag something by their hair, no not something, someone, Letty. He screams and goes to turn around and he turns right into three people in white masks and he stops and drops to his knees screaming so high pitched it might have been mistaken for a girl. Falling to his knees he covers his eyes waiting for his demise but instead he is met with.. laughter? He peeks up seeing coco, you and Ez take off the masks. He turns around seeing Letty getting up laughing. The guy in butchers clothing peeling back the latex on his face revealing Gilly as the culprit. Everyone is laughing except Angel. He slowly stands up and his once scared face is now annoyed as he starts walking toward your back door. You stop laughing “oh no, did we go too far?”

Coco laughed again. “Nah. He will be okay. Just mad cause we got the best of him. “

Ez wiped the tears from his eyes caused from his laughter “yeah, don’t worry about him.” He turned to Gilly, “thanks for the help man, he definitely didn’t expect that. “

Gilly laughed “I’m happy to help. How did you all get it to look like y/n got pulled down the hallway?”

As Coco explained that they had Letty get dressed and put a belt and rope around her and had her stand on a old skateboard so ez and coco could roll her back one they grabbed you, you made you way to the back yard where Angel was out smoking a cigarette.

“Hey” your voice was quiet as you walked up to him. “Don’t be mad at them. It was my idea. I didn’t think you’d get upset.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Upset? How would I not be upset at the thought of the love of my life being taken away and possibly killed?” Angel stopped talking as his cheeks for red as he realized what he just said. You eyes grew wide as his words sank in.

“What? What did you say?” You looked at up him. Angel just stared at the ground and sighed.

“Look, I’m in love with you y/n. I have been for awhile and I didn’t know how to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin anything and I didn’t want ruin what we did have because I can’t stand the thought of you not in my life.”

Y/n is now smiling at his rambling and shuts him up by slamming her body to his and kissing him fast and hard. Angel wraps his arms around you and kisses you back urgently. Feeling intoxicated by your taste. You finally pull back to catch your breath with a smile on your lips.

“Angel Reyes, you sir are an idiot. If I knew all it took was someone trying to kidnap me to get you to tell me I would have done this a long time ago. I love you, too. I was just waiting for you to grow a pair and come claim me. “

Angel smiled at that and pulled you closer. “Well consider yourself claimed mi amor. You are mine forever now.”

You both smiled kissing each other again as you could hear shouting and “finally’s” coming from the house.

“It’s about damn time. Now , get your asses in here so we can finish this movie.” Letty explained as you and Angel laughed following her inside to continue your movie night. Halloween is always amazing for you, but this will always be your favorite.

@angelreyesgirl @auroraariza @spookys-girl @trulysuccubus @stunning-shitz

[real-fanta-sea]

Cutscene after mission in Kortz, but its 52/66 👀👌

First of all, thank you for the prompt, dear! Second of all - I'm sorry it took me 5 months to get my ass to write it 👉👈 but, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. TW: profanities, lots of horny (because the internet is for porn, duh), and overall NSFW (that's why it's hidden under "keep reading") Without much further ado, here's your fic 😊

********************* "Well, that was fun..."

Michael's been itching to light a Redwood ever since he's shot down the damn Merryweather chopper. His whole body was screaming for a hit and amplified the need by sending adrenalin-induced shivers down his spine.

Who was he to fight with his vice? He took the packet out of his jacket's inner pocket with a precise, smooth move and pressed it firmly with cold fingers, trembling with need. He earned a first-class ticket to hell many years ago, so who the fuck cares if he gets there sooner than later?

Despite his loud self-loathing telling him otherwise, there was someone who cared after all. "What are you doing smoking, huh?" Michael's eyebrows raised slightly in disbelief as he watched Trevor bounce off the wall he was leaning on, latch the Redwoods from his grip, crumble them and toss them aside. The eyebrows raised to his hairline when Trevor overstep all the boundaries they had and lightly slapped his cheek in an almost motherly manner. "No, no, no, that's bad for ya, don't you know?"

Michael's heart started racing again upon the uninvited touch, and he felt the pang of something he hoped to have killed and buried years ago, and that particular something stunned him for a couple of seconds. The mere eye contact was unbearable, and Michael quickly turned his gaze to the remains of his cigarettes and let the rage weight him down to earth again.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's got a little something to do with being caught in the middle of a three-way fire fight between two government agencies and a private militia. You know it gets me a little stressed out..."

As soon as he finished the sentence, he regretted the snarky tone he chose and turned away from Trevor's hurt expression. Fuck, he felt as if he kicked a puppy. His head twitched sideways as it usually did when he was overwhelmed, and he couldn't help but bounce on his feet a little.

"Okay, but we still need you alive, Mikey boy." The remorse was gone, replaced with dread. What the hell did that even mean? "I mean, ya know, at least for now." That didn't help Michael to ease at all. He shot a mild menacing glare Trevor's way and squared his shoulders, awaiting the worst. "Unless, of course, you have another surprise for me, huh? Maybe somethin' to do with another inappropriate friendship?"

Okay, the exchange was getting ridiculous at this point, and Trevor got back to his annoying, suspicious self he knew too well. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly Dave's fault..." Trevor mirrored his gesture as if he tried to show Michael how futile his effort to explain the connection to Dave really was and slowly came closer to Michael, who just tried to look calm and smirked. "No, no, he's just a friendly face of a corrupt government agency, looking to further his career by dealing with an equally corrupt and full to the fucking brim with bullshit low rent hood!" Great, the last thing he needed was an angry Trevor slitting his throat open in a nameless back alley in Morningwood.

"Listen, Trevor, I've been meaning to thank..." but it was too late for friendly gestures. Trevor's eyes already spew fire as he started pacing back and forth, eyes glued on Michael. "Oh y'know, I've been meaning..., Yeah, I've been meaning to tell ya, y'know..." he mocked, and caught Michael off-guard. "What, homie? What have you been meaning to tell me?" Trevor turned around and stepped closer again, but this time, his eyes gave away a different kind of fire - the kind Michael remembered to have kindled heat during cold North Yankton nights.

Without any warning, Trevor grabbed him by both shoulders and threw him against the wall so hard Michael's face cringed for a split second before he remembered to collect himself and glare at Trevor. But it was too late to appear menacing, now that Trevor held both of Michael's wrists in his rough hands and pushed them above Michael's head, grating them against the facade. "What have you been meaning to tell me, Mikey?" Michael gulped and looked back into Trevor's eyes and fought with the sudden idea to reach out and kiss the lips hovering above his own. Trevor's deep growl sent shivers down his spine, and he allowed his head to fall back onto the wall, closing his eyes and easing into the sensation of Trevor's breath on his neck.

"That you stabbed me in the back?" Michael bit his lip hard to stop himself from moaning when Trevor gently pressed his lips against the pulse point on his neck and nibbed on the tender skin, lingering there, breathing Michael in. "Or that you were... and always will be... a worthless wretch who deserves to be put under?". Michael's eyes shot open as his heart skipped a beat, and instead of aroused anticipation, he woke into beast mode. The rage rush put him back on his feet as he sent Trevor stumbling back into the alley, where Michael tackled him against the wall on the other side, and while pinning him down with his whole weight, his hand shot up instinctively and wrapped itself firmly around Trevor's throat.

If he were honest with himself, he would say he felt betrayed, helpless and dangerously aroused by the thought of Trevor's lips and fingers touching him and didn't quite know how to process it all at once. Trevor's grin drove him crazy, and not only because of the plump lips curling up. Michael growled and squeezed harder against the soft, pulsing skin.

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU COME BACK FOR?"

Trevor gasped as he fought for breath, but that didn't stop him from grabbing Michael by hips and yanking him closer. "Oh, you know why..." Puzzled, Michael let go for a second, but it was enough for Trevor to take advantage and roll Michael against the wall and rest his thumbs comfortably against his jaw. Trevor's sight lingered on Michael's lips for a moment before he met his eyes again, this time conveying a whole different message. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me..." Trevor's whisper was still hoarse from being choked, and as he leant closer to Michael, the latter found himself easing up into the heat of Trevor's body, tuning out everything else but a beat of his racing heart.

It wasn't exactly like in the movies - there were no fireworks, no oblivious clip montage, no orchestra in the background. It was just the feeling of surprisingly soft lips nibbling on Michael's own, the heat, the sweet buzzing of excitement and sparks setting his skin on fire where Trevor's fingers have wandered under his shirt. Trevor pulled back for a second to slide down Michael's jaw and tease M where he knew was his weak spot - and got the muffled moan out in answer to brushing the tip of his tongue all the way down his neck.

"Fuck, T!"

Michael's whole body was on fire, and all he wanted at this point was to fuck Trevor through the wall if he wasn't pinned down by his friend, who showed no intention to stop kissing him. The least he could do was to grab Trevor's hips, pulling him closer and thrusting forward while holding onto handsful of T's ass. "Be careful what you wish for, Mikey..." was the only answer, followed by a low moan as T pushed back and brushed his hard-on against Michael's. Trevor took advantage of Michael's parted lips to seize them again, but he was awaiting an invitation to deepen the kiss this time. He was not prepared for Michael clinking their teeth and brushing his tongue against his with such hunger and greed. He could not wait any longer.

Michael's fingers yanked impatiently on Trevor's grimy jeans, almost tearing them apart, to get hold of what was throbbing inside, and laced around the girth of Trevor's cock. A gentle stroke was all it took to make the tough guy tremble and moan - and Michael enjoyed the power he now held as well as grieved the broken kiss. Slowly, he built up the pace while rolling Trevor over against the wall again, but this time, it was Michael who kissed Trevor's neck and playfully bit his tanned skin with every stroke. Somehow, in between the moans and curses, Trevor could still unzip the fly of Micheal's jeans and free his cock out of the tight pants with shaking hands. He has always been skilled in pleasing him the way no one else could, Michael thought as the other hand unbuttoned his pants and sent them falling down to his knees. Gently, Trevor slid one finger along his balls to his perineum and pressed it up while brushing up and down.

The pressure building up inside Michael was barely bearable - Trevor's lips, Trevor's smell ("what the fuck, has he showered or what?"), his hands working him up slowly; all of it was suddenly too much and too little at the same time. Aroused, Michael broke the kiss and let go of Trevor's cock to look back at him with a predatory glare - and T immediately understood what was about to happen. All it took for Michael to set off was the tip of Trevor's tongue darting out of his mouth and a cocky nod of his head. Michael grabbed Trevor, turned him around and pressed him back against the wall face first, with such hunger it made Trevor moan upon impact. With one hand pushing Trevor against the wall by the scruff of his neck, Michael kicked his legs apart to make the entering easier for him.

"Fuck me already, Mikey!" Trevor trembled under his touch and wiggled his ass against Michael's erection. "Oh, look who's a cheeky bitch now!" Michael spat onto his fingers, not even bothering to check if it was enough. He just couldn't wait any longer. "Be careful what you wish for, T..." and slid himself inside of Trevor, his knees turning into jelly upon the tightness and heat of his lover. "M...Mikey! Jesus, you're bigger than I remember..."

Instead of answering Trevor, Michael pushed his lover's head harder into the wall, grabbing a fist full of hair and rocked his hips faster while holding onto Trevor's side, gripping hard. With every move, every cry of pleasure, he felt more at home, and all the frustration and fear melt away to make place for Trevor. "God, Mikey, harder!"

Fuck, he almost tripped over the edge right there with Trevor's needy moan. Michael instead pushed deeper and leant forward to bury teeth into Trevor's shoulders, as well as used both hands to keep Trevor steady in place and thrust forward as hard as he could, getting crossed, rolled back eyes and flushed cheeks in return.

Michael felt sweat pearling on the small of his back as he pumped in harder, desperate to enjoy what T had to offer, feeling the pressure building up within. He didn't want to come so soon, but anytime he attempted to slow down, Trevor pushed back and made him keep up the pace. Slowly, the world around them dissolved into a smear of colours. With each move, he felt he was getting closer to the edge: just one more move, just one more moan - Michael pushed as deep as he could and clawed his nails into Trevor's soft belly, looking for support as the whole world shivered and trembled with him, and somewhere far away there was Trevor saying something about loving him and his voice moaning out the same response over and over again.

When he came down from the high, Michael was happy to collapse onto Trevor's back and let his breath even out while still stuck inside his lover. "Fuck, T... that was..." but words have failed him. Instead, he decided to latch on the exposed skin of Trevor's neck and shoulders and plant kisses there when a slight shiver of muscles around his cock reminded him of painful truth - T hasn't cum yet. Michael smirked for himself when he slid his hands down from Trevor's hips to find him rock hard and ready. Without being reminded about Trevor's preferences, Michael gripped his cock firmly and squeezed just right to get a hiss of pleasure in response. He didn't bother with starting slowly and just pumped his fist up and down fast, with teeth planted into Trevor's shoulder. "Mmmikey!"

The shaky breath escaping him and his whole body vibrating in the rhythm of Michael's fist gave Michael signs Trevor is near the point of no return. He slid out of him and let Trevor lean onto him for support instead - he remembered too well the leg shaking orgasms of the past when T could barely stand. "M.. Mikey! Mikey!"

"Cum for me, baby..."

"Tell me... fuck! Tell me you love me, please, Mikey! I need to hear it, please, M!"

Michael squeezed Trevor harder and, leaning closer to T's ear, almost touching it with lips, M let out a hoarse whisper, "I love you, T."

************

Lester sat back in his wheelchair, trying to even out his breath, and brushed sweat off his forehead with his left hand. Fuck it, he thought, I'll have to clean under the table for the third time this week, and threw and an oblivious couple of crumpled paper tissues into a black plastic bin next to his desk. With a sigh, Lester proceeded to clean himself up and wipe his right hand into yet another tissue and input a command to stop recording and download the video onto his hard drive. With a happy little huff, he turned the wheelchair around and decided to take a piss and then crack a cold one open to even out the liquid levels. As he steered away, whistling, a window with a flickering low-quality image from a security camera showed two familiar men kissing and fleeing out of sight in separate directions to disappear back into the depths of their denial and misery.

[littlelittlebear]

Two Drifters | 3/3 Jeronica Secret Santa

@fangstomysweetpea oh my god.... its finally time!!! 

The moment i’ve been aching for is finally here and i am HYPE

Happy Christmas my dear Tumblr-friend, I hope you enjoy this jeronica playlist/au/riverdale rewrite.

A couple things first, the descriptions on each song are just an outline as to whats happening in that moment/what the song calls for. Also, this is like a story, so its not really something you can play on shuffle lol. I’m confident you didn’t really need these “instructions” lmao, just want you to have a bomb-ass jeronica experience XDD

Also, you don’t have to “follow” the descriptions when you think them out, you can completely take the reigns too if you’d like!

So.... here ya go!!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1MflcKtyBDRjnP0giX03X4?si=ZcsD0GfxR0KevhgDpTZVKQ

And here are the descriptions-

Oxford Comma-

Locking eyes for the first time… wow. Just- everything is in slow motion.

Baby Doll-

Slow dancing in Pop’s after the dance. (V goes to Pop’s instead of Archie)

Can I call you tonight?-

Jughead and Veronica’s moments of glee when they finally set up a date with each other. Veronica squeals and jumps up and down, Jughead punches the air, they both fall down on the bed with blissful looks on their faces. Two cinnamon rolls.

“So, I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yes! *Too enthusiastic- calm down Veronica* Yes. Call me tonight.”

*Que music*

Just Like a Movie-

Jughead calls this their theme song one day when they’re just hanging out in the student lounge as a joke.

Scrawny-

Veronica calls this Jughead’s theme song in response, they have a good laugh and Jughead rolls his eyes at the lyrics A LOT.

Space Girl-

Jughead calls this Veronica’s theme song- because she’s “oUt oF tHiS worLD!”.

She smacks his arm for being so cheesy.

Good Morning-

The morning after they do the “horizontal tango” with each other for the first time, they dance in Veronica’s kitchen, knowing all the words- only to be interrupted by an amused Hermione Lodge.

Unforgettable-

Their first Christmas together, spent snowed in at The Pembrooke. But honestly, they don’t mind.

Shake it out-

Jughead and Veronica cry together after her parents blackmail them/force them to break up. #parentssuck.

Your star-

Coping with the breakup, newsflash- they aren’t, or when they are... they don’t go the healthiest route. So. Much. Angst.

Rare-

Veronica changes up her style a little bit, which really is just lower cut tops, just trying to forget about Jughead- does a lil sexy performance singing to this at a pep rally.

Out the door-

Jughead never leaving the depressional stage of grief.                                

+ Exchanging broken looks that just scream “I’m not over you.”

I can’t get you off my mind-

Drunkenly hooking up at a party because their tension recently had just been… w o w

Drugs-

Sneaking around- sexy times ;)

Why Do You Love Me-

Having a screaming match, then a very angry/hot makeup session, then very angry sex XD

The Wind-

After some hOrIzOnTaL TaNGo at Sweetwater River, they admit that they can’t keep away from each other, saying that they love each other for the first time- followed by Veronica crying tears of joy cuz she’s never done that before- and that they’re going to work everything out, together. They just hold each other after that.

“I love you, Princess.”

Veronica props herself on her elbow to face him (they were laying down before)

Jughead sees her widened eyes. “Y-you don’t have to say it back, I know its ha-“

“I love you too, Jug”

You and I-

Montage of working at Pop’s for summer, ending with a jam sesh in Jughead’s trailer- Veronica just in his shirt and Jughead just in his sweats. FP comes in, surprised to see Veronica, but welcomes her easily. FP and Veronica bond, and he embarrasses Jug with some baby photos. While Jug’s probably beet-red, he can’t help but completely oggle at Veronica- happy that they don’t have to hide from his dad anymore.

Start a Riot-

Jeronica send a little message to Hiram through security cameras (they just make out lmao), showing that he can’t keep them apart. They then proceed to trash Hiram’s jingle jangle lab. :)

Moon River-

Slow dancing after having been crowned homecoming King and Queen. And of course, because Veronica is 1/2 of this relationship- this becomes their song.

“That’s us.”

“What do you mean?” Veronica asks, confused.

“The two drifters in the song. ‘Two drifters, off to see the world.’ That’s us”

Veronica’s eyes start to gloss.

“I absolutely love that. And you.”

Teenagers-

Being the badass power couple they are, being 100% team Serpent against the Bulldogs during the riots. Its all one long shot too- no cuts :))

A Sunday Kind of Love-

Looking at each other in slow motion (wow- I really love putting stuff in slow motion) when Veronica is officially named Serpent queen, they’re absolutely smitten with each other. Cut to them dancing in the Wyrm to the song, discussing how they’re going to make their big debut as Riverdale’s resident power couple… second to Choni of course.

“So… now that I’m your queen, I was thinking had a debut of sorts. Just to educate the public of this new order.” Veronica jabs, only kind of joking.

Jughead laughs, but it sounds more of a huff.

“Could you settle for a hand-in-hand entrance at school? Or would you be more comfortable with a red carpet event?”

Glory-

Veronica and Jughead walking into school as Serpent Royalty with matching Serpent jackets- no special colours thank you very much. You can bet your ass its in slow motion.

Worlds Apart-

Veronica crying at Jughead’s bed-side after the Ghoulies fuck him up.

Boss Bitch-

Veronica gets revenge on the Ghoulies and Penny Peabody with the help of the female Serpents, the River vixens, Hermione, Betty, and Alice.

Le Symbolique-

Veronica and Jughead reunite from his state of unconsciousness, this whole sequence is in slow motion, with a lot of white lighting/glare. Jughead almost died and just that thought alone KILLED Veronica.

“Jug I was so scared-“

“Shush Ronnie, let me look at you.” His teary eyes trace over Veronica’s face with a beaming smile, before he brings his girlfriend closer and kisses the top of her forehead.

Harmony Hall- 

Some core four bliss before it gets chaotic again, with a side of Jeronica and Barchie cuddles.

Not Your Barbie Girl-

A River vixen performance, Jughead is so fricken in love with Ronnie right now cuz she’s just RADIATING empowerment.

Therefore I Am- 

Jeronica sends Hiram to jail again after a bomb ass one liner from Veronica:

“Mija, you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Only one thing’s false in that sentence Hiram, I’m not your Mija anymore.”

(HELP ME I CAN’T WRITE)

*Proud Jughead smirk*

This Life-

Veronica meeting JB and Gladys, them getting along great- just a wholesome Lodge/Jones get-together.

Don’t Call Me Angel-

Veronica changes her name to Luna, fully emancipating herself from Hiram, and this gets Jughead really turned on XD

Sway With Me-

La Bonne Nuit’s first successful night, Josie, Veronica, Toni, and Cheryl perform. Veronica somehow convinces Jughead to dance with her in public. Think Moulin Rouge’s Diamond Dogs type editing.

My Oh My- 

Getting screwed over my Hiram, Veronica is in a TON of debt and needs some “stress relief” with Jughead. He obliges. Happily.

HIP-

Veronica and Cheryl start their rum business, Jughead helps and oml he’s so proud of her. Btw, Cheronica are HUGE badasses right now.

Bury a friend-

Surviving Eversgreen Forest and Penelope Blossom…

Youth-

The core four are free from the forest, successfully escaping Penelope Blossom. Jughead and Veronica share a tearful but happy kiss, laying down on the back of a truck.

Don’t Take The Money-

The core four hang out at pops and promise to have fun this senior year, Jughead steals Veronica’s cherry from her milkshake, but being so vulnerable to Midget’s (He calls her Midget. Yup.) puppy dog eyes, he makes it up to her by sharing his fries. 

“And for a brief, shining moment, we were kids again.” all that good shiz

The Four Seasons: “Winter”-

Jeronica hangs with the Stonewall psychos.

(Online Love)-

Veronica and Jughead FaceTime and Veronica has this vibe like she’s the montage of the hero’s dead girlfriend in a movie. Like her hair is all splayed out on her pillow and she’s all smiley-

“You look like an angel right now- with your hair like a halo and how much you’re smiling.”

Veronica laughs

“Well it’s your fault I’m smiling you idiot.” Her voice softens towards the end of the sentence.

“I love you too, Ron.”

El Tejano-

Party at Stonewall, Jeronica are absolutely WASTED. Fun fact- Jughead get’s really into PDA when he’s drunk

Burned Out- 

Oh shit… I guess Jughead is dead now. (dw, Betty’s still the one who “kills him”)

Claire de Lune-

Just kidding, he’s alive, and he and Veronica have a really cute moment in the bunker. Veronica starts reading his novel, per his request, and he just starts playing this on the record player and she smiles but her eyes are still on the book. He just kind of watches her, and when she starts beaming at the book he can’t help but kiss her right there. Then they just cuddle and little bit, Veronica on Jug’s lap, reading the book some more.

Girls Like GIrls-

Veronica has to prove Jughead is dead, so she and Betty kinda sorta… make out. Like, a lot. Betty is dating Archie at this point, and he’s the one who gets “mad”. But basically Betty and Veronica end up making out again cuz they spot Donna watching them. Veronica is a bi con, and Betty might be too but everyones in denial so *shrugs*.

Dream Lover-

(Time skip, because I’m lazy) Jughead’s alive again, sadly, his spot at NYU was taken by well, Veronica. Luckily, after pulling some strings, she surprises Jug with a full-ride acceptance letter from NYU starting second semester.

Magic Moments-

Yay! Prom! Barchie gets crowned king and queen (Beronica was kind of forgotten about, but thats fine, because we’re here for Jeronica first). While Betty and Archie are totally lost in each other, Jughead and Veronica are just kind of joking around on the side. While it’s Barchie’s moment, Jeronica is still looking pretty damn cute rn. Also, this becomes Barchie’s song!!

Oxford comma-

The song comes through the speaker at prom, Jughead invites Veronica to dance. As they sway, they gaze at one another like they’re seeing one another for the first time, to the song that started it all. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And thats it! Thats Jeronica’s story from season one to season four, I hope you have a very merry Christmas and I hope you liked your presents! Also, if anyone feels like adding on to the dialogue or using any of the points in a fic or even making a whole ass fanfiction- please do!! I didn’t do this justice with my mediocre quotes so it would actually be preferred XD.

And again, happy Christmas :))

[lu-undy]

Chapter 101 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mon Dieu…"

"Yeah…"

Both were laying in bed like starfish on a beach, panting and catching their breaths. 

"You… Surpassed yourself… mon amour…"

"Did you-?"

"Oui…" Lucien put a hand on his chest to catch his breath. 

"You did…?"

"Oui…!" Lucien insisted. 

"You sure?" 

"Mundy…!"

"But I didn't touch you, I just-?" Mundy put his forearm on his sweaty brow. 

"I know…" Lucien closed his eyes. "I… know… I just… you were hitting the right spot, if you need… details…"

"I was…? I had no idea… God…" 

"Were my cries… moans… and whimpers… not enough?"

"You're usually… quite vocal…" Mundy answered.

"It is the first time… that this happens…" 

Mundy had grabbed his bottle of water from the night table and offered it to Lucien. They both pushed themselves to sit and took turns drinking. 

"Merci, mon amour."

[Thank you, my love.]

"Yeah, you’re welcome, Lu'."

They sank down in the sheets and naturally, Lucien laid his head on Mundy's shoulder. The Aussie wrapped an arm around him. 

"But really, you… did the thing without you or me touchin' you?" 

"Technically, you were touching me, just not with your hands and not where you are thinking." They exchanged a smile. 

"Guess so, yeah…" Mundy's hand stroked his lover. "Uh, did you feel it as strongly as when I do it… properly?"

"Even more so. The fact that you or I were not touching me made it stronger, more intense."

"Oh, ok."

"Don't worry, I shall reciprocate next time." 

They exchanged a smile.

"Can't wait. Speakin' of waiting, I hope I didn't make you wait too long at the restaurant."

"Long enough to be approached by another man."

"Seriously?!" 

"Is this jealousy I sense?" Lucien smiled. 

"What the hell does he think he's doin'? Did he annoy you? Why didn't you tell me while we were there, I'd have had a word or two with him…" Mundy tightened the hug, protectively.

"It is fine, I let him have his way and when he was deep enough in his own grave, I ended him."

"What? What's that mean?" 

"I flirted back with him until…"

"Until?"

"Until I resumed my normal voice. You should have seen his face, he was livid." 

"Pfff…" 

They both shared a laugh. 

"Still, next time, you tell me, alright?" 

"And what would you have done?" 

"Don't know… I'd have told him the truth, that you're mine, and no one comes near you." 

"Possessive?"

"Protective, and maybe a bit possessive…"

"Territorial, I like that in you, mon loup."

Lucien snuggled against his lover who combed his long hair with his fingers.

"May I ask, do you prefer me shaved?" 

"I don't mind. I like both. And it's not like you're super hairy otherwise."

"Yet I felt it, you made love to me differently tonight." 

"Hm… Yeah, felt different… Still does, I mean, look at you! Lost a few years without the beard and all, and those stockings… Gosh…!"

"Are you calling me old?" Lucien teased. 

"Nah… Vintage." Mundy tried to save himself.

"Vintage means old for clothes, Mundy…" 

"Yeah well… I'm not makin' it better, aren't I?" 

"Non." Lucien chimed with a smile. 

"And now you're gonna bully me ‘cause I said you're old, right?"

"Exactement."

[Exactly.]

"Well, fuck me then…" 

"I'd rather you did it to me, but not just now." 

"I didn't mean it literally!"

"Didn't you?" Lucien teased. 

"Pfff…" He laughed and kissed his lover's brow while holding him tight. "Love you, doll." 

"I like this new nickname." 

"What?" 

"Doll." Lucien answered, looking up at his lover. 

"It's usually a sheila's pet name."

"I don't mind, I like the sound and the connotations of it." 

"Really? Like bein' a doll, eh?" Mundy cupped Lucien's cheek.

"I like being yours, without a doubt." 

"Y'know what?"

"Pray tell." 

"The more I know you, the more I'm surprised how much you like bein' uh… like… not dominant."

"Oh?" 

"When I met you, you were so arrogant, so self-confident, so… argh! I'd never have imagined you could be that soft and all."

"Is that an issue?" 

"No, not at all, on the contrary. I love when you're bein' like that. Shows you trust me an awful lot." 

"I do." Lucien confirmed and as his head rose and fell to the rhythm of Mundy's breath, his eyelids felt heavier and heavier. 

"Lu'...?" 

"Mh?" 

"Thanks for tonight, everythin' was perfect, just like you." Lucien smiled with his eyes closed. Mundy looked down at the both of them. "You not gonna remove your stockings?"

"I am way too tired."

"And sore, eh?" 

"Non, actually…"

"Oh? Thought it'd be hurtin'."

"You went slowly enough and you had prepared me plenty, mon amour." 

"Well, gotta do that again then, and maybe we can go for round two next time…?" 

"Gladly." 

"You'd let me… do it twice?" 

"Mh-hm." 

"Should've met you when I was in my twenties…" Mundy said. 

"Mh?"

"Because I was unstoppable back then."

Lucien's eyes snapped open. 

"Are you saying that…?" He asked. 

"Yup. Literally had a bit of a reputation for it." 

"Quoi?" Lucien asked, surprised and Mundy chuckled with his low, gravelly laughter. 

"Used to be like that. It passed when I got older." 

"I should have met you when you were in your twenties then…"

"What?" Mundy asked and Lucien closed his eyes on his shoulder again. 

"I was the same…" 

"Seriously?"

"There are rumours, or rather legends about me."

"What do they say?" 

"That I have as many children as the number of women who laid eyes on me." 

"What?!" 

"Other less uhm… naturally gifted spies spread those words around. And instead of harming me, they made my fame and reputation." 

"Pfff…" Mundy chuckled. "I'm laughin' both for the story and for your voice."

"What about it?" 

"You sound sleepy as hell." 

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to shave everywhere and prepare myself? It was exhausting…" 

"Aw, poor you… C'mere, doll, gimme a good night kissy, eh?" 

Lucien raised his head with his eyes still closed and pushed his lips on Mundy's. 

"There, g'night, gorgeous." 

"Bonne nuit, mon loup." 

Mundy adjusted the cover on them both and closed his eyes. 

-- A few days later --

"That's very sweet of you, Mum, thanks." 

"Bah, anythin' to help you, Micky!"

They were both in the living-room, sitting side by side on the sofa. Perle was lying on Caroline's lap and Soot, on Mundy's. 

"Will he be much longer?" She asked. 

"Uh…" Mundy looked at his watch. "A couple of hours more."

"Ah, alright." 

"And you, Mum, how's it goin' with Dad? Is he alright?" 

Caroline's smile faded slowly as she put her cup of tea back on the coffee table. 

"He… We aren't in the best of terms at the moment." 

"What's happenin'?"

She sighed. 

"It's your father… When you told him about Lucien and you, he was quite upset. He stayed angry for a few days. Then he went to see Maurice. When he came back, he was just… empty."

"Empty?"

"Yeah, always looking at nothing, doesn't talk much. Sometimes I catch him just sitting on the couch and just… doing nothing. He's not watching the television or listening to the radio. He's just sitting there by himself, staring at nothing, thinking about God knows what…"

"Did you try and talk to him?" Mundy asked. 

"Yeah, asked him if he was alright. He always says he's fine and carries on."

"When did he go and see Maurice?"

"More than a week ago now."

"Crikey... And does he say anything when you come and visit here?" 

"Nope. Nothin'. Not even a 'hey' or a 'hello' when I come back. It's like he's living alone."

"Gosh… I-I'm sorry, Mum."

"What for?"

"It's all my fault and it falls on you again, although…" Caroline was about to answer when she got surprised by Mundy's sentence not ending there. "Even if I'm very sorry that it happens to you cause you got nothing to do with this, I… I'm not gonna change anythin'."

"What d'you mean?"

"I guess Dad expects me to go back and apologise and-"

"No, of course not."

"What?"

"You say that as if you did in the past, but it's not true, Micky. Remember when you used to go with the van, huntin' for days on end? Even if he yelled at you, you never stopped." 

"Doesn't mean I felt happy about how I got along with Dad because of it." 

"I know. But I don't think he is expectin' you to come back and apologise. Apologise for what? You're bein' a good boy…" She cupped his cheek and smiled, to which he grinned back. "And look at your smile… Y'know, I told your Dad about this."

"About what?"

"I never saw you smile half as much as I see you do now, since you're with Lucien." 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yeah! And the way you look at him all makes sense now."

"Mum…!" Mundy felt embarrassed, he lowered his head and hunched his back. 

"Nothin' to be ashamed of, I find you cute…!" Mundy blushed. "I know we never talked about boys or girls, but if you ever need to, I'm here for you." She patted his back. 

"Yeah… Thanks, Mum."

"How's it going for you and your Lu', eh? Guess it's going strong from that blush on your face…?"

"I-I don't know if I can say… It's uh… "

"Come on…!" She pushed.

"Hold on, before I answer you, is there anythin' I can do to help you, Mum?"

"With what?"

"With Dad."

Caroline sighed. 

"Nah, you did all you had to do. It's shakin' the old man but he gotta take it, eh."

"Thanks, Mum." He leaned to her and she wrapped an arm around him. 

"It's normal, Micky. It took me a bit of time to get used to myself, but hey, I did it. But tell me now, what's up with your Lu', eh?" 

"Mum, he's… fantastic. He's just… He's better than blokes in movies and all… He's the best thing to have ever happened in my life." Mundy sighed, lovestruck.

"Aww, Micky…" Caroline looked at her son, leaning his head on her shoulder, and smiled. "Never seen you like that, baby." 

"Cause I never felt like that…!"

"What did he do?" 

"He took me out, in the Maravilhoso, y'know, the Brazilian place in town."

"Oh, yeah, the one with the yellow flashy lights, yeah?"

"Yeah, that one." 

"So you got some dinner there?"

"We went separately and uh… Gosh, when I saw him, I… I fell in love with him all over again… I don't even know if that makes sense but I was feelin' like at the beginnin', y'know? Knees went to jelly, mouth was dry and weird. Couldn't speak properly."

"It does make a lot of sense, Micky. I felt that twice in my life."

"Oh, when?" 

"First, when your father accepted to take you in with me and raise you. The second time was when we changed our name, after the fire. I guess Maurice told you our new name, didn't he?"

"No, he didn't actually. Said I should ask you, back when I asked him."

Caroline smiled. 

"We sat with your father and took a long time to think. Maurice said to take something completely different from Turner, but also, something we'd recognise instantly. It'd be odd if someone called us by our names but none of us reacted, eh?"

"What did you go for in the end?" Mundy asked. 

Caroline grinned sweetly and raised her hazel eyes to her son.

"Mundee." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Really? Mundy?"

"Yeah, but spelt with double 'e' in the end, instead of 'y'." 

Mundy hugged his mother. 

"Guess you came up with the name, eh?" He asked.

"I think I did, I can't remember exactly now. But I remember that we both agreed without thinking. Anytime someone says 'Mr Mundee' or 'Mrs Mundee', I think of you and say a little prayer for you in my heart, baby." She hugged him back.

"Thank you so much…"

"Been missing you and your adorable smile, Micky. But I'm so happy now that you've found some peace." 

"Yeah, well… Doesn't seem fair. I get peace but Dad doesn't… By the way, why did he go and see Maurice? Was it just about Lu' and me?" 

"Nah, I'm pushin' him to change our name back to Turner. Feels weird not to have the same last name as you. Besides, that bad man's dead. Time for us to become Turners again. Also, we told the rest of the family that we uh… We actually were alive. We wanted to let them know and then maybe see them. It's a bit of a drive to go there, but it'd be nice to do it, at least for next Christmas, like we used to."

"How are they?" 

"They thought it was a bad prank and called the police on us…"

"You serious?" Mundy exclaimed.

"Yeah, and I understand. Imagine if I had called you to tell you the truth. You'd have picked up the phone and heard someone with your Dad's voice tellin' you we were alive. You'd have wondered who the hell is playin' a bad prank on you." She paused to catch her breath. "So I told your father to not call again, it was a bad idea to say such stuff not in person. But he insisted and called them again; got angry at them for not believin' him even. Next thing we knew, the police were knocking on the door. We explained everythin' and of course they didn't believe us. Took them days to come back to us and understand."

"Gosh… I'm sorry you had to go through all that mess. Your nerves are alright?" Mundy looked at his mother with worried eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess it's their nerves that took a slap, eh? Thank you, sweetie, for worryin', but I'm fine. Since you came back and that awful man's dead, I feel much stronger."

"Good to hear. Although, I'd prefer it if Dad was feelin' alright too…" Mundy lowered his head.

"Hey, baby…" She put a hand on his shoulder. "Not your fault, nothin' you can do about it. Let the old man think. He loves you, in his own way. He needs to find his new place."

"His new place?" 

"It's like the news you told him took him outside of himself. He needs time to find a new balance, a new place in his own head to accept all this. It's takin' him a long time, but your old man hates to change his habits; always been like that." 

"D'you think he will one day?" 

Their eyes met. 

"I hope so. It's sad enough to see him wanderin' in his own head, his eyes tired and empty."

"I'm sorry, Mum." 

"Don't be. He was there for me when I was low and now, I am here for him when he is. That's the vows we took, all those years ago." She smiled at her son. "It's easy to love when everything's fine. You truly love someone when nothing's fine but you stick to them nonetheless." 

He grinned back. 

"I think you're right, Mum." 

"Of course I am!" 

They chuckled and the cats slipped out of their laps. They trotted to the door and meowed repeatedly. 

"Ah, that'd be Lu'."

A split second after, the sound of a key on a lock and soon, the door opened. 

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" 

"Bonjour, mes bébés…! Attendez, je veux rentrer, attendez…!" 

[Hello, my babies…! Wait, I need to come inside, hold on…!]

Lucien shut the door after him and knelt down for the cats to drown him in headbutts, slow blinks and purrs. He let them have their way with him and dealt kisses and scratches, left and right.

"Mundy? Mon amour? I am home!" He announced from the entrance and Mundy blushed at the pet name being used in front of his mother.

"Yeah, come in, Lu', Mum's here…!" 

Lucien removed his shoes and jacket before joining mother and son. 

"Bonjour, Caroline, my apologies, I did not know you were here." He extended a hand to her but she pulled him into a hug, which the Frenchman reciprocated. 

"Hey, Lu'..." 

"Mundy…" 

They played it safe with a hug and some hand holding, out of respect for Mundy's mother. 

"You sit here, Lu'," Caroline said. "I'll go and get you a cup to get some tea with us."

"Please, Caroline, I can go and-"

"Mum, I can-"

"Sit! The both of you be good boys now and listen, yeah? I'll go and get you a cup. You're home from work, you're tired. You have a minute or so, I'll be back." Caroline's assertive, motherly voice shut both the men up and she did what she just said. 

"Mon amour, ça va? How have you been?" Lucien whispered. 

[My love, how are you?]

"Yeah, alright. Mum's visited me like that, we didn't really organise anythin'. That's why I didn't tell you anythin', sorry, luv'." 

"Please…" Lucien put a hand on his cheek. "There is no harm done. I like your mother, she is lovely." 

"Thanks, luv'." 

"How is she?"

"She told me that -"

"Here we are, boys…! A nice cup for you, Lu'. Ya don't mind if I call you, Lu', do you?"

"Not at all, I am honoured." He answered with a smile and gently bowed as he accepted the cup of tea that Caroline was handing him. 

"Aw, such a good boy…" 

"I was just asking Mundy how you were." Lucien said as he took a sip. 

"Not too bad, yeah." 

"Caroline, if I may…" 

"Yeah?"

Lucien put the cup down on the coffee table. 

"Your beautiful eyes don't shine as I know them to shine."

"Ooh, flatterer!" Caroline blushed. 

"What is on your mind? Is it something that we can help with?" Lucien offered. 

"Not really… It's Mike, he's a bit stuck on that last chat you guys had."

"I am sorry to see that it affects not only him, but also your sleep." 

Her eyebrows jumped and she looked at Mundy with question marks in her eyes. 

"Ex-spy, Mum, he can read stuff like that on your face like it's written in French…!" Mundy answered.

"Well, that's a surprise…" Caroline said. "But yeah, Mike's low mood is gettin' to me a bit. Nothing you lovely boys can do, though. It'll pass, I don't imagine him bein' stuck like that forever."

"If we can do anything, please let us know." Lucien put his hand on hers, on her lap, and Perle jumped on the sofa to brush herself on her grandmother.

"Meow…" 

"Thank you, all of you but it's fine, I promise. It's just makin' him wonder about a lot of things. We gotta give him some time, is all." She concluded. "But what about you boys?" 

"As you wish." Lucien answered. "Mundy must have told you, not much has happened since the last time you graced us with your presence."

"Oh, no, on the contrary!" She answered and both Lucien and Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "Micky told me he fell in love with you again!"

"Mum!" Mundy blushed to his ears and Lucien smiled.

"Yeah, you did…!" Caroline carried Perle like a baby in her arms and went to the coat hanger. She freed the lady cat who nonetheless stuck to her and meowed repeatedly. "Now, I'd better go back to my old Mike. Don't like to leave him alone too long."

"But of course." Lucien and Mundy went to the entrance. Lucien gave Mundy his mother's jacket and gestured to him to help her wear it. 

"Oh, yeah, here Mum…" 

"Good boy… Now, you two behave, yeah?"

"Meow! Meow! Meow!" 

"You too, babies…" She bent down to scratch Perle and Soot who were rubbing themselves on her. 

"See ya, Mum, and you be careful out there, yeah?" 

"Yeah, and see ya, boys." She hugged them one by one and left. 

"Your mother is absolutely charming." 

"Oi, watch it… She's my mum, eh?" 

"Don't worry, it's the son who stole my heart." Lucien smiled and came closer to his lover, splaying his hands on his chest.

"Glad to know…" Mundy hugged his lover and his hands slid down on his back until they slid in his back pockets.

"I see someone has been missing me."

"Course, I have. Y'know, I was - oh?" 

Both froze for a second when they heard a screeching meow from upstairs. They let go of each other and towards where the sound had come from. Mundy arrived first and opened the door to the cat room.

“Oh, bugger…” He shut the door straight.

“What is it?!” Lucien wanted to push Mundy aside.

“N-no, not now, Lu’...!” Mundy blocked the door and the cat screeching resounded again.

“That was Perle crying! What is wrong with her?! Let me help her!”

“Lu’! No! There’s nothing wrong with her, she… Soot and her need a minute…”

“Why?! What is happening there?!”

“They…” Mundy took Lucien’s head between his palms and put his lips next to his ears. “We might be grandpas again…”

“Oh…”

[kutemouse]

Caught (Prologue)

Disclaimers: All “Save Me” webtoon and BTS MV/highlight reel/film references and plots belong to BTS and BigHit. Not sure who edited it or made it, but the “I’m Fine/Save Me” ambigram pic I used came from here. All pictures of Kim Taehyung belong to BTS and BigHit, I just edited them for my header. The picture of BTS came from Vogue Japan, I just edited it for my header. I got the Kim Taehyung Wings Film Gif from DannyBriz on Wattpad.

A Note from Kutemouse: Awwww, thank you for reading my stuff, @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash!

So, this sweet little mini series is inspired by several things… The movie 365 DNI, the Save Me webtoon, the BTS MV universe, and ideas I’ve come up with waaaaaay too late at night 😂 Honestly, I’m OBSESSED with the whole MV/highlight reel/wings films arc that started with The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1, and I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write a story inspired by it. So, kutie pie @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash, thank you for allowing this dream to come to light.

About the non-con request, I was all like, “EEEERRRRRRMMMMMMMM idk,” because I’ve never written non-con and therefore don’t… know… if I’m comfortable with it…? I will attempt to do my best. Either way, I hope you like what has come out of my brain 😅

Also, thank you to @btssmutheaven for revealing my drafts (NOT REALLY, ILY) to @taemaknae for reading my shit and loving it, and to @kpopyandere for being the best unnie account and helping me realize I can write all the yandere ideas I want.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (this is NOT one for youngsters, kuties, and is MOST DEFINITELY NSFW)

Genre: Mafia!AU w/ BTS, Jailbird!AU w/ Taehyung, Yandere!BTS

Warnings: ALL THE WARNINGS. Just kidding, uh… Swears. There are minors in this section but they do NOT do anything sexual. I ain’t about that kinda life, y’all. F*ckboy Taehyung. Fluffy friendship. Angsty jealousy. Mentions of drug use and alcohol consumption (NOT by minors tho). Yandere themes including unhealthy obsession and possessiveness. Making out. No smut in this part, but it’s heavy af.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE ISSUES WITH THE FOLLOWING.🚨

Mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of a parent abusing their child, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of schoolyard bullying, mentions of a violent murder.

These are not fleshed out or detailed scenarios. When I say “mention,” I mean briefly discussed after it happened, not during, and definitely not in any detail whatsoever. You DO NOT have to read my work. You decide what you are comfortable with. All I want is for you kuties to be happy.

Word Count: 6.1k (WTF is this even allowed?!)

Summary: Kim Taehyung was the absolute love of your life… until he became a murderer. With him serving a life sentence in prison, you were finally free to live out the rest of your life however you wanted. Just when you thought you were at the top of your game, ready to take on the world, Taehyung reappears like a monster not even your worst nightmares could dream up. He gives you a year to fall in love with him, but now the question is, can monsters even be loved?

Master List

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Caught (Taehyung Series, Yandere, Smut, Angst) Prologue

I remember the first time I saw Kim Taehyung. We were both fifteen, just starting out in high school. Back then, I remember the way he lazily leaned against a locker with his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for someone. His hair was bleached a ridiculous bright blonde on the top and left brunette everywhere else. He had on dramatic, black eyeliner that served to accentuate his inky eyes, and he wore a studded leather jacket with his shirt and tie rather than the traditional uniform. Intrigued, I opened my locker and picked out my books for my next class, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

I saw him zero in on his target and take brisk, wide strides towards her as she twirled the combo to her locker. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as he caged her in by leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Suddenly, the hallway was filled with flirtatious giggles and I turned away, rolling my eyes. So he was one of those assholes.

I watched him do this with every single girl in our class. I swear, he had his routine down to a science. Chat her up, openly flirt, flirt some more until she caved in to whatever he desired, then drop her like a hot frying pan. It took a couple months for his interest to finally land on me.

“Hey.”

I didn’t bother to look up as I twirled the combination to my locker and popped it open.

“Hey,” he said louder.

I flicked a glance his way. “Do you need something?”

His eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I need anything?”

I huffed out a sigh. “What do you want, Kim Taehyung?”

He let out a snort, leaning against the locker next to mine the same way he’d done a thousand times with a thousand other girls. “So you know my name, but I don’t know yours. You’re new, right?”

“I transferred in at the beginning of the year,” I said impatiently. “And we’re in the same class, so you should know who I am.”

Taehyung’s lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Really? No, that can’t be right. I definitely would’ve remembered you.”

I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut, walking quickly away. Taehyung jogged to keep up. “Just tell me your name,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“C’mon, I’m just trying to make friends.”

I whirled around, stopping both of us in our tracks. “Friends? Is that what you’ve been doing with every other girl here? Just making friends?”

Taehyung smirked once more and took a step towards me. I don’t know why, but I took a step back. I should’ve held my ground, should’ve told him to fuck off right then and there. Instead, I let him back me up against the wall and entrap me within his darkened gaze, the same way he would for the next three years of our lives.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling the skin of my cheek. “We can be more than friends… but first, you have to tell me your name.”

I shoved him off me and practically sprinted down the hall, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. My peers and classmates who saw the exchange teased me for weeks afterward, no matter how much I kept my head down and avoided Taehyung like my life depended on it. It wasn’t until I heard him telling off some of the more tenacious gossipers I decided to give him another chance.

I tapped him on his shoulder as he stood in front of his locker. His eyes widened when he turned to see me standing there. “I’m L/n Y/n,” I said meekly. “And I wanted to thank you for what you said to those people.”

“You heard that?” he asked, the skin of his neck flushing pink.

I nodded.

“You’re welcome,” he said, tossing me a boxy grin.

That day, a seed was planted that eventually grew into a steady, beautiful friendship. A year later, I had come out of my shell quite a bit thanks to Taehyung, and I had a solid group of mates that I adored and relied on. Tae was my best friend, and I was his. Of course, we still got teased quite a bit about being a couple, but I figured we were both long past that.

Taehyung matured alongside our friendship. He stopped wearing thick eyeliner and sporting ridiculous hair colors, instead opting for a softer, more natural look with caramel brown locks and the unblemished glow of his slightly-tan skin. Gone were his dramatic, attention-seeking ways. His voice also deepened, dropping almost an entire octave. Yet despite all of his changes, he still stayed an absolute fuck-boy, shagging a new girl every other week. I came to realize it was all part of his personality, though, and I loved him no matter what.

The summer before our senior year was when I realized that love ran way deeper than friendship. We were at my best girlfriend Chaeyoung’s house when Taehyung stumbled in with yet another girl, his hair freshly dyed a bright cerulean blue. “Hey everyone!” he called out, slinging his arm around the girl’s shoulders. My smile faded as I looked over and noticed she was beyond gorgeous, with waist-length black locks that seemed to flow down the perfect curve of her back. I shuddered as a green monster reared its ugly head deep within me.

Taehyung was with that girl for a few months, which by his standards, was practically a lifetime. The entire time they were together, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff about to swan-dive into devastating heartbreak. Each time I saw him kiss her, each time I saw him smile at her, each time I saw him lean over and whisper something in her ear, a piece of my soul shriveled up and died. I did my best to put my feelings aside, knowing I already had my chance and he would probably never look at me that way again. Even after they broke up, I kept my love for him tamped down and tucked away deep in the recesses of my heart, scared of ruining our friendship.

His break-up only served to draw us closer together, and slowly, without me realizing it, our friendship began to bloom into something more. Taehyung and I started to tell each other everything, including the messed-up secrets our home lives made us keep. One day, we were sitting in an empty classroom after school. I was trying to study, but kept getting distracted by Tae staring longingly out the window. “What’re you looking at?” I finally asked, putting my pencil down.

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About when we’ll finally get out of here.”

I smiled, my heart thumping a little faster. “We?”

He turned and tossed me his signature boxy grin. “Yeah. We. We’ll make it out of here someday, Y/n. I’ll get away from my bastard of a dad, you’ll get away from your selfish mother, and we’ll have a house in the country with big, open fields and plenty of space to finally fucking breathe.”

I smiled and stored those words away, using them to comfort myself whenever my mother and her asshole of a boyfriend wouldn’t stop yelling at each other, or worse, when they’d pass out on the couch, too drunk or high to stay coherent.

One night around three in the morning, my phone began to buzz and didn’t stop until I finally popped an eye open, fumbled around for it in the dark, and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I mumbled.

“H-Hey.”

I sat up. “Taehyung?”

“Y/n, I n-need your help,” he said shakily. It sounded like he was… crying?

I immediately got out of bed and pulled some jeans on. “Tae, it’s okay,” I said soothingly, trying to hide the panic I was feeling. I knew Taehyung’s home life was extremely hard. In fact, most of our home lives were terrible. The only two in our friend group who even came close to “privileged” were Chaeyoung and Jin, and that was because their parents had more money, not less problems.

I myself had plenty of issues. The reason my mother and I moved here when I was fifteen was to escape her abusive boyfriend, and even then, we still lived in constant fear of him finding us again. I guess that fear drove her into the arms of the first strong-looking man who looked twice at her, because her new boyfriend, Manseok, seemed to fit the same abusive pattern. At least he didn’t hit her when he was sober.

I wasn’t exactly sure how terrible Taehyung’s life was until the night he called me. At his request, I stole a few bills from my mom’s purse as well as her ID and put us up in a cheap motel room for the night. Jumping up when I finally heard his knock, I quickly pulled the door open to reveal Taehyung, his blue hair stringy from the rain outside. He was panting like he ran all the way there. I covered my mouth with my hands as the dim lighting revealed his left eye swollen shut, covered in nasty shades of scarlet and purple. His lip was split and bleeding, and his right cheek had another bruise and cut creeping down to his jawbone. The worst part, though, were the red finger-shaped marks that covered his neck.

“Y/n,” he croaked out. I held open my arms and he fell into them, not leaving their safety until well into the morning. I iced his black eye and bruises as much as I could, and bandaged the cuts that covered his face. Taehyung’s face was pressed into my chest, his breathing deep and even as he finally slept.

I decided then and there I’d never let him go.

Thankfully, Taehyung felt the same way. Within a week, he brushed off every other girl he was chatting up and focused all of his attention on me. We spent hours with each other after school, either in person or on the phone, and it became a common occurrence for him to intertwine his fingers with mine or peck me sweetly on the cheek.

I quickly grew dissatisfied, sick of the friendship barrier preventing us from taking things further. We spent an entire day together one weekend, talking, laughing, walking the streets, and trying different foods from vendor carts. As the sun started to go down, Taehyung wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his chest into my back. He was teasing me, I forget about what, and he leaned down to kiss my cheek when I turned at the last second and let him peck my lips instead. I laughed as his dark eyes grew wide with shock.

That was all it took, though. One kiss, and he was mine. Or rather, I was his. Afterwards, he pulled me into a deserted alleyway and we kissed until the sun completely disappeared. As the stars appeared in the sky above, Taehyung asked me to be his girlfriend, murmuring in my ear about how much he loved me and how he had never stopped loving me, even after I turned him down. With my heart practically bursting, I readily agreed.

Back then, Taehyung had a knack for getting in trouble, and me being his new girlfriend did nothing to hinder that side of him. He was definitely the “bad boy” of our school, constantly rebelling against the system by swapping his uniform for street clothes and ditching classes. His favorite form of rebellion, however, was street graffiti. He loved spray-painting words and drawings all over the walls of our neighborhood alongside his best friend, Namjoon. Tae was nearly caught by the cops a couple of times, but thanks to his quick instincts, he managed to give them the slip.

Still, a boy with bright, blue hair was bound to stand out, so after a couple nights of close calls, Taehyung finally dyed his hair back to that soft, caramel brown that I loved running my fingers through. We sat together at a bus stop, watching cars and people go by with fingers intertwined, when Tae stood and pulled a paint can out of his jacket pocket.

“Again?” I asked. Despite my teasing tone, I smiled up at him.

Taehyung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth with a grin as he sprayed something onto the panel beside us. “Look,” he said once he was finished, tilting his head to admire his work.

I stood up to see the words “I’m fine” sprayed in green. The font was the most interesting part, though, too curly in comparison to Taehyung’s usual writing. “Now look at it from upside-down,” Tae said.

I threw him a skeptical look before obediently curving my neck and scoping out the piece of art as best I could. “Save me,” I read out loud.

Taehyung nodded. “It’s for us,” he murmured.

I looked up at him, emotions surging through me like a waterfall surging down a cliff. “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking.

Taehyung looked at me, concern filling his features. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

“I-I have s-something to tell you,” I stammered.

With many tears and a shaky voice, I began to explain to Taehyung the events that had transpired only a few nights before. How my mom’s boyfriend had quietly snuck into my room while she remained passed out on the couch. How he had told me to be quiet as his hand started stroking my arm. How he had held his hand over my mouth and yelped when I bit him. How I had screamed so loud our neighbors called the cops. How he was carted away by the police with my mother shrieking the entire time about how I was a brat and a dramatic liar.

Taehyung’s gaze grew darker with each word. “That bastard,” he spat, clenching his fists. “I will end that motherfucker.”

“Taehyung, stop,” I sighed. “It’s over. For now, at least. I’ll stay at Chaeyoung’s until graduation.”

“What do you mean? He’s not going to jail?”

I hung my head. “My mom left to pay his bail an hour ago.”

Taehyung slammed his fist into the same panel he just graffitied. “So that jerk is going to walk free?!”

I stood up and ran my hands soothingly over his shoulders. “For now. I’m going to press charges, but in the end, it’s my word against his. Who knows how the system will treat him.”

Taehyung let out a feral growl, turning away from me. “I’m sick of this shit,” he snapped. “My dad, your mom’s boyfriend… neither of them should be walking free after everything they’ve done.”

Not knowing what else to do, I hugged him tightly from behind. “Just another few months,” I said quietly. “And then we’ll be out of here. A house in the country, just like you said.”

“That’s not good enough,” Tae snapped, turning back towards me. My mouth parted in surprise as I looked into his eyes and saw something there I’d never seen before. It was like a slow-burning flame, one that hadn’t yet risen into a raging wildfire, but threatened to if it wasn’t quickly put out.

Taehyung suddenly grabbed my hand and tugged me down the street. “I’m dropping you off at Chae’s,” he said. “And then I want you to stay there for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want you going out for any reason, you understand me?”

“Taehyung, what are you saying? You’re scaring me.”

He stopped walking, turning so we were facing each other once more. The flame I saw earlier began blazing, turning rapidly into something uncontrollable and destructive I didn’t know how to stop. “This ends tonight,” he growled.

True to his word, he dropped me off at Chaeyoung’s, not leaving until he made me promise I wouldn’t go out until he said so. After a week, with Tae’s permission, I went home to get some clothes and personal items only to find my mom sitting on the couch, strung out of her mind. “Is he here?” I asked tentatively.

She raised her red-rimmed eyes to meet mine. “Who?”

“Manseok. Your jerk of a boyfriend.”

My mom shrugged and scoffed. “Haven’t seen that bastard for a couple days now,” she said, her words slurring together. “He upped and left us. Stole some money from me to do it, too.”

The feeling of relief that I felt was short-lived once I remembered that asshole would probably be back for more, just like the others. I quickly gathered my things and left, stopping only to make sure my mom had enough food for the next few days.

Ever since that night, Taehyung withdrew into himself. He still held my hand and kissed me, but it was distant, emotionless, like he didn’t know how to feel his feelings for me anymore. He weirdly became somewhat possessive of me, keeping me practically glued to his side whenever he was with me, and constantly texting me when we weren’t together. Whenever other boys looked my way, Taehyung shot them down with harsh words and incessant bullying our friends joined in on. I insisted they stop that kind of behavior, and for a while, I thought Tae and his friends complied. It wasn’t until much later in life when I realized they never truly stopped. They just got better at hiding it.

One night, I was at Namjoon’s place waiting for Tae when Joon’s phone rang. “Taehyung?” he said, turning away from me when I looked up. “Hey, calm down. You did what?!”

He stood up quickly. I motioned for him to put it on speaker, but he waved me off. “Okay, stop. I’m coming over right now. Just stay put, dammit.”

Joon grabbed his jacket and rushed towards the door. “Wait!” I cried. “What happened?!”

“Nothing that concerns you,” he snapped. “Stay here. I’ll bring Taehyung to you, alright?”

Neither of them came back. Before the sun even thought of rising, I determinedly ran all the way to Taehyung’s apartment, desperate to see him and make sure he was alright. As my sneakers pounded against the pavement and my breath started coming out in ragged gasps, I suddenly felt a hand grasp my forearm and yank me into a side alley.

“What are you doing here?” a voice growled as I yelped in surprise. I looked up to see Jungkook standing there, glaring at me.

“I want to see Taehyung,” I retorted, ripping my arm from his grasp.

He crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”

“Like hell it’s not!” I snapped. “Where is he?”

Jungkook grabbed the front of my jacket, preventing me from pushing past him. “Go home, Y/n.”

“Absolutely the fuck not!”

Sick of my shit, Jungkook picked me up, threw me over his broad shoulder, and carried me out of the alleyway. I kicked and screamed the entire way. He set me down once we were on the main street. “Taehyung will call you when he can,” he said firmly. “I won’t say it again, Y/n. Go home.”

“No!” Tears welled up, and I furiously swiped them away. “I’m his girlfriend! Tell me where he is right now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Jungkook snapped. “Y/n, you don’t even know where he is. Fucking leave, or I’ll carry you all the way back to Chae’s myself.”

It didn’t take much longer for me to realize Jungkook wouldn’t relent. Eventually, I went back to Chaeyoung’s and spent the day staring at the wall beside my bed. What did Taehyung do? What were his friends protecting him from? When had things gotten so fucked up?

My questions were never answered. After a full week of silence, complete with him missing school, Taehyung showed up at Chae’s place asking for me. “She doesn’t want to see you,” Chae snapped, closing the door as I meandered into the entry hall.

Taehyung stopped her by slamming his palm against the wood. “Please, Chae,” he begged.

Recognizing his deep tenor, I walked up and put my hand on my bestie’s shoulder. “I’ve got this, Chae,” I murmured. She left with a huff.

Taehyung looked terrible. Dark circles ran under both eyes like he’d spent multiple nights without sleep, his hair was unkempt, and his skin was much too pale. Without another word, I immediately took him inside and dragged him up to my room. He took a shower in my en suite bathroom while I washed his clothes. After he dressed, we sat on my bed, still not speaking. “What happened?” I finally asked.

He tossed me a weak smile. “Life happened.”

I shook my head in disgust. “You leave me for an entire week with no explanation, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Baby girl, please,” Taehyung said, clasping my hands in between his large, rough ones. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I asked the guys to keep an eye on you, and they said you’ve been doing fine.”

“Fine is an overstatement,” I snorted, tearing my hands from his grasp.

He didn’t relent, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his broad chest. “Let go,” I ordered, trying and failing to push him away.

“No,” he said simply, tightening his hold. “I love you, Y/n. Everything that happened this past week happened for us. For our dream.”

I managed to pull back enough to look up into his eyes. The spark of mischief that normally resided there was gone, replaced by a dull sombreness that made me ache inside. Whatever had happened that week completely changed Taehyung for good. He was no longer quick to smile or joke, and I began to yearn for the blue-haired boy of the past. I couldn’t tell him that, though. Despite everything, I still loved him.

A month passed, and as our graduation approached, Taehyung talked more and more about moving out to the country. I responded enthusiastically outwardly, but on the inside, I didn’t know if moving out was such a good idea. It wasn’t just the way he had changed. It was having issues with my mom as well. Since Manseok never came back around, her behavior grew more erratic each day. I moved back in to take care of her, and she depended heavily on me. I was afraid if I left, she would fall off the deep end again and never be able to make it back to the surface.

The last day I saw Taehyung dawned bright and filled with hope. “I’m feeling good today,” he announced, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we walked to class.

I smiled up at him, glee spreading through my limbs when I saw a trace of that mischievous spark back in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tossed me a grin. “I haven’t been able to go out and tag anything lately… but I kind of want to tonight. You in?”

“Of course.”

As night approached, we walked hand-in-hand down the street until Taehyung led us back to that bus stop where he painted the “I’m fine/Save me” ambigram. I sat on the bench and watched as he began to create something new. I don’t think he had a set plan. The painting started off in meaningless loops, the jet-black color standing out in stark contrast to the white behind it.

Suddenly, bright lights filled our vision flashing a blinding blue and red. “Freeze!” a loud voice yelled.

I remember Taehyung’s wide, dark eyes finding mine, filled with panic. I remember the rough skin of his palm sliding into mine and yanking me upright. I remember how we sprinted down the street, the fear of being caught pumping adrenaline through us. How he ran faster than me, tugging me along to keep up.

Taehyung looked back and pulled me into an alleyway to try and lose them. We turned a corner and met a dead end. With our backs pressed against the wall, I looked at Tae. “Dammit,” he panted, the corners of his mouth turning upwards despite our situation.

I began to run out the way we came, intending on dragging Taehyung with me, but he yanked me back, slamming me against the wall that entrapped us. He kissed me, feverishly pressing his tongue inside my mouth before I could stop him. He yanked my wrists upwards, pinning them almost painfully against the brick above us as his mouth continued exploring mine and his hands roamed up and down my body.

He pulled back, allowing me to finally suck in some oxygen, and even as I coughed, he continued pressing kisses from my cheek to my jaw to my neck. Tae finally stopped as loud voices and beams of flashlights got closer. “I love you, baby girl,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that.”

“Tae, what—?”

He stepped out from behind the corner, raising his hands in the air. I ducked down into the shadows the alley provided, scooting backwards and pressing my hands over my mouth.

“Get over here, punk,” a gruff voice commanded. I heard the grinding click of handcuffs closing over wrists as another voice began to read Tae his rights.

I scrambled to my feet, realizing too late what was happening. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t take the fall for both of us. Not like this. Still, even as I moved to step out into the light and reveal myself, something stopped me. I don’t remember exactly what it was. Possibly the thought of my mother, my friends, how close I was to graduation. Like I said, I don’t remember. All I remember was the panic I felt when I realized the love of my life had just been arrested.

I showed up late to class the next day, not wanting to answer questions from my friends about what had happened and why I looked like absolute shit. I realized my efforts weren’t needed when two detectives pulled me out of class and escorted me to the police station, causing my classmates to start buzzing with gossip like the annoying wasps they were.

“So… L/n Y/n,” the cop, Detective Kwak, said. I looked up at her, nervously twisting my hands in my lap. “You are dating Kim Taehyung, correct?”

I nodded slowly. She had brought me here for “routine questioning,” yet I began to suspect more when they put me in an interrogation room. “For how long?” the detective asked.

“About a year and a half,” I muttered.

“So your relationship was serious?”

“You could say that.”

“How serious?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean?”

“I  mean, how serious were you? Did you have plans for after graduation?”

“I guess. We were going to move in together.”

“Here in the city?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Somewhere far away.”

“Because of your troubles at home?”

It was then I got defensive. “What do you know about that?” I snapped.

Detective Kwak stared me down, an amused smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I know enough. I was promoted to detective only a month or so ago. Back in my street days, I was one of the cops called to your house.”

My mouth parted in surprise at her words.

“I remember that night pretty clearly,” she continued. “Your mom’s boyfriend attacked you, right?”

I swallowed hard and sank down in my seat, rubbing my arms with my palms in an effort to keep myself contained. “And she did nothing to defend you, correct?” the detective prodded.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“What about Taehyung? Did he do anything to defend you?”

“What the fuck is this about?” I burst out. “I thought you brought me here because… because…”

“Because of the graffiti?” she asked pointedly.

I nodded.

Detective Kwak leaned forward over the table. “Look, Y/n, I don’t give a damn about the fact you were his tagging partner in crime or whatever. This is much bigger than that.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat back and stared at me, her eyes like cold, dark tunnels. “Kim Taehyung has been charged with murder. His prints match a partial we lifted off of a crime scene.”

My mouth dropped open. “W-What?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We only identified the body yesterday. Does the name Lee Manseok mean anything to you?”

I froze as the syllables of my mother’s boyfriend’s name rolled off the detective’s tongue. She nodded at my reaction. “I thought it would. He was found in an abandoned warehouse about a week after he was killed. He’d been beaten to death.”

My blood ran cold, causing goosebumps to raise on the flesh of my arms. I shook my head fiercely. “No, that can’t be right,” I said. “The guy was a dick, anyone could’ve done that to him.”

“That’s what we thought at first. We first suspected his wife.”

“He… He has a wife?”

“And two kids,” the detective scoffed. “Your mom picked a real winner. But then we finally got Taehyung in custody thanks to your shenanigans last night and what do you know? His prints match the one we found at the crime scene.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” I said firmly. “Taehyung wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” she asked, folding her arms over the table. “Sounds like he really loved you and would do anything to protect you.”

“No, there has to be a mistake. Even if Taehyung did kill him, it had to be out of self-defense or something.”

“Maybe so. But if you knock a guy out and then continue beating him until he dies, is it really self-defense?”

“It is if that guy could come back and hurt someone you love for revenge,” I retorted.

The detective’s face remained expressionless. “Unfortunately, the law says differently.”

“The law can go to hell for all I care.”

She chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. Look, the crime scene revealed that more than one person beat the literal life out of Manseok. If Taehyung did this, he didn’t do it alone. Do you happen to know who else would have helped him commit murder?”

I stayed silent as I thought for a moment. Any of our friends could’ve helped him, with maybe the exception of Chaeyoung. I thought of Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi and Joon. I thought of the way they moved around school like a unified group, making fun of anyone who wasn’t them and bullying people who got in their way, especially any other guy who dared look my way. Still, they wouldn’t have helped Tae commit flat-out murder, would they?

“Anyone at all?”

The detective’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I shook my head. “No. No one.”

She sighed. “There’s something else. We’ve been trying to get ahold of Taehyung’s father, but he seems to be missing.”

“Missing?”

“Yes. He hasn’t shown up at his job at all in the past month and a half. His credit cards haven’t been used, either.”

“So?” I snapped. “The guy was an alcoholic, he could be holed up somewhere drinking himself to death.”

“Maybe so, but my guess is we’re going to find him in some abandoned building or maybe at the bottom of the ocean one day. Your boy, Taehyung? I’ll bet he’s the one who put him there.”

I slammed my palms on the table. “LIES!” I yelled. “He wouldn’t do that!”

“Wouldn’t he?!” Detective Kwak shouted, rising to her feet. “Tell me something right now, Y/n. Have you noticed him acting differently? Have you noticed any changes in his behavior?”

I immediately looked down at the ground. “No,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said, NO!”

“Enough with the lies!”

“I’m not lying! You are!”

The detective opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it and sat down instead. “The evidence doesn’t lie, Y/n,” she said.

“Look,” I said. “If you want someone to put in jail, put me in jail. Taehyung’s gone through enough in his life. Please don’t put him through this.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I put my hands over my face and began to sob. Detective Kwak stood up and came around to my side of the table before placing a hand on my shoulder. Once my sobs began to cease, she offered me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Listen,” she said gently. “I’ve made arrangements for your aunt to come pick you up.”

I looked up at the detective in surprise. “My aunt?”

“Yes. Your mom’s sister. She’s filed to gain custody of you, and in light of recent events, a judge granted it to her.”

“Wait, my mom’s sister? I thought she lived in America.”

Detective Kwak’s mouth visibly tightened. “No, actually, she lives in Busan. Seems your mom kept that from you as well. Your aunt’s been trying to get in contact with you, Y/n. She says she sent letters.”

I stared at the wall across from me. Every limb, every nerve ending, every cell in my body was starting to go numb. It was all too much. My boyfriend was a murderer, my mom’s ex-boyfriend was dead, Taehyung’s dad was missing, and now all of a sudden I had a long-lost aunt who was now my sole guardian?”

“She’s very well off,” the detective continued. “She’s even offered to pay for your mom to get treatment in a rehabilitation facility. Whatever future you have with her is sure to be a bright one.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so. I’ve met her, only briefly, but she seems very nice.”

I let the silence grow between us, not bothering to give a response. The detective finally sighed and sat back down in her chair across from me. “Y/n, Taehyung is going to jail for a very long time. Maybe even for the rest of his life. I suggest you move on with your life. Move to Busan. You’ll attend a great school there, and probably university as well. You can start down an entirely new path.”

The memory of Taehyung’s handsome face swam before my eyes, his bright, boxy smile lighting my insides on fire the way it had for the past year and a half. “What if I don’t want to?” I whispered.

“Well… That’s up to you. But the sooner you move on, the sooner you’ll stop feeling this pain.”

Detective Kwak stood up, motioning for me to stand up as well. “Come on. Your aunt’s waiting.”

We exited the interrogation room, the skin on my face itchy and dry from crying. I knew I probably looked like a mess, but I didn’t care.

“Y/n!” a deep, familiar voice shouted. I froze in my tracks, slowly raising my eyes to his inky ones. He struggled in the grip of two cops, his hands handcuffed behind his back.

“Hey baby girl,” he said, smirking. “Nice of you to come visit me.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Detective Kwak hissed.

“You said to move him into the interrogation room.”

“While it’s still occupied?!”

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung quipped. “We can share, right baby?”

“Get him out of here!” Detective Kwak snapped. “Now!”

The cops shoved Taehyung towards the interrogation room. I turned to look at him, desperation clenching at my heart. I realized this might be the last time I saw him, the last time I would get to tell him something. Anything. My mouth opened but no words came out.

“Don’t worry, baby girl!” Taehyung shouted, lurching towards me. “I’ll get out someday! And I’ll come for you! I will always come for you!”

I shook my head and felt tears prick at my eyes once more as the police wrestled with him. “I love you, Y/n!” he shouted just before they shut the door on him.

“Sorry about that,” Detective Kim said, holding a hand to her heaving chest. “You weren’t supposed to cross paths.”

“It’s okay,” I murmured, and to my own surprise, I meant it. I was glad I saw him one last time. I realized, in that moment, that the blue-haired boy I once knew and fell in love with was completely gone. His eyes, which once held a spark of playfulness and mischief, now held nothing but misery and woe. He let his anger for the world overtake him, allowing it to blaze a path of self-destruction that I could no longer follow.

Maybe the detective was right. Despite the fact that Kim Taehyung was the love of my life, maybe, just maybe, it was time to move on.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Part One is HEEEEEEERE! 😉

[shes-an-oddbird]

Time or Quake

Daniel tries to determine what are normal behaviors of this time versus what are Daisy's own unique odd habits. 

Dousy Week - Day 6 Prompts - Time & Quake

Daniel Sousa was in fact fazed by everything but to be fair he thought he was handling the transition to the 21st century as well as could be expected. Better even to some extent. It helps greatly that Daisy is more than happy to teach him all about it, especially if it involved laughing at him along the way. At some point, after he begins to recognize habits and behaviors that are considered normal for the time, he starts to notice odd things about Daisy herself. He doesn’t worry over most of them but sometimes he finds himself unable to not ask if it’s a time-thing or a Daisy-thing.

He has to have a cell phone and he has to know how to use it. This Daisy insists upon. In case of an emergency she wants to be able to reach him and wants him to be able to reach her or another member of the team. It will also help him blend in. Teaching him to use it actually hadn’t been that difficult. He likes to think that he picked up on the tech quickly enough. It was the smaller irrelevant things that confused him.

“Apps?”

“They’re mostly time wasters.”

Not his favorite. He didn’t care much for wasting his own time.

Books though? A library’s worth in his phone? Fantastic. He’ll admit he still likes the feel of old paperback books best, but the convenience was unbeatable.

On that same note, he also still preferred talking to people on the phone versus the short exchanges of text messages. The endless abbreviations, the lack of replies, the incessant beeping from group messages. He didn’t mind so much the ones from Daisy. They usually consisted of checking up on him when they were apart, links to articles she thought he might like and reminders. Specifically, those reminders were for him to remind her to show him some movie or book or tv show. Those were his favorite.

But it was at the end of many of her messages that he first noticed something odd and unique to her texts and one day he finally asks her about it.

“Daisy?”

“Hmm?”

“Why is this at the end of so many of your messages?”

“Why is what?” She leans over his shoulder and he points to the odd little colon and parentheses at the end of her most recent message. He hears her try to stifle a laugh and looks up at her. She’s grinning down at him, her shoulders shaking gently.

“What?”

“Okay, here,” she takes the phone and turns it in his hand so that it sideways. He thinks maybe the screen will rotate like it does when she shows him pictures, but it doesn’t. “Do you see it now?”

He does not.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?”

She doesn’t answer just continues to smile at him. He looks back at the screen and then back at her until it hits him. “It looks like a smile.”

“There you go.”

“But why?”

“Because I was smiling when I wrote the message and honestly you’re not ready for emojis.”

“Emojis?”

She taps a button on the screen and up pops hundreds of yellow circles with faces on them. Most of them are smiling but some he supposes looks angry or sad or even confused. “You’re right, I’m not ready.”

He mentally marks the symbol down as a time related oddity, even if its already a dated one.

He notices one day while holding her hand that she has her shirt sleeve tugged down over her palm. He writes it off as her hands being cold and doesn’t think much of it until it until it happens again on a warmer day. Out of curiosity he tugs her hand up to look at it and notices her shirt is actually made with a little hole to slide her thumb through.

“What’s up?” Daisy asks. He does this often, stopping dead in his tracks to inspect something that is new or unusual.

“Why, is this like a fashionable thing?” It must be if they make the shirts that way.

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily, I think it’s just comfortable for some people.”

“People with perpetually cold hands?”

“Maybe, among other reasons,” she looks down at the hand he doesn’t have grasped in his own, “I like how familiar it feels, it reminds me of my gauntlets.”

Well that made a lot of sense. Her gauntlets protected her arms so there was a level of safety and comfort in having her palms covered.

So not just a Daisy thing but with a very Daisy specific reason.

Daniel hears a frustrated shout from the other room and its not the first one. For at least the last half hour it sounded like Daisy was arguing with someone but as best he can tell its only a one-sided conversation. When he hears a loud thump he decides he better check on her. He pokes his head into their room just as she mutters another irritated sentence. “Why are you so useless?”

He knocks on the door frame.

“Hmm?” She answers without moving her eyes off the screen.

“Were you just talking to the computer?”

“Yes.”

“Are you on one of those video calls?”

“What?” Daisy finally looks up at him. “Oh no, I was, it was just being uncooperative.”

It? The computer? “So you yelled at it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s an inanimate object.”

“So?” She asks.

He almost doesn’t ask. “Does it understand you?”

The next thing he knows is a pillow is being hurled in his direction. “Don’t tease me, the damn thing is pissing me off, I’m supposed to have this done for Mack by the end of the day.”

He holds his hands up in defense. “I promise that was a genuine question.”

She sighs heavily and falls back against the remaining pillows on the bed. “No, it does not understand me, god help me if it does, I’ve called it some pretty awful things.”

“I heard.”

She sits up and looks at him as though something has just occurred to her. “Wait, have you never yelled at an inanimate object before?”

“Yelled at? Yes, but I’ve never had a whole conversation with one.”

He marks this one down as a normal behavior of the time and dodges another pillow that comes his way.

He thinks her most unusual habit may be the odd places she sits.

She sits on the floor a lot. Which he doesn’t think is all that odd, it’s just not something he’d voluntarily do himself. But sometimes he returns to their tiny, shared apartment and finds her comfortably situated anywhere but in a chair. She sits on the back of the couch, on the counter in the kitchen, on the stepstool she used to reach things.

When they’re on base she sits on desks or on crates and on the rare occasion he finds her in a chair its almost always sideways or backwards or with her legs and feet pulled up underneath her.

“Do you have something against chairs?” He asks when he finds her sitting on a crate instead of doing inventory on the zephyr.

She looks at him funny. “No, why?”

“You just never seem to use them?” He gestures to the boxes beneath her.

“I didn’t even realize.” She replied honestly. “Maybe its a subconscious rebellion, the nuns tried to instill us with good posture or maybe just habit, I didn’t exactly have proper seating in my van.” She pauses. “Is it weird? Now that you bring it up, I feel kind of like a child.”

“I don’t know if it’s weird,” he laughs and steps up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she drapes hers over his shoulders, “you’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching me what’s normal.”

She considers this. “Unclear.” She tells him.

Unclear.

There is one thing that he knows is distinctly Daisy even from the very first time it happens.

She’s been gone for nearly two weeks. Sent with Elena’s team on a mission involving a whole family of inhumans who were being threatened. Definitely their area of expertise. He spent a much quieter week at the academy, assisting Coulson as he prepared to take on a semester of SHIELD history classes. The pair had joined May for lunch when the text messages started coming in.

We’ve landed!!!!

Are you still at the academy?? I’ll meet you there

Where are you both the classrooms are empty

He considers calling her but she’s taken to answering the phone in mocking tones when he does that instead of just writing back to her. Stopped for lunch, we’re on our way back to May’s classroom

:) :) :)

He rolls his eyes and stuffs the phone back in his pocket. They’re only just around the corner from the classroom. May has a lecture in a few minutes and the halls are filled with cadets moving around in a rush to get to where they need to be.

“Finally!” Daisy jumps up from her spot of the floor and starts to sprint towards them, dodging the students who didn’t get out of the way fast enough. She slams into him and they stumble backwards a couple of steps.

“Hey I missed y – “

She cuts him off, dragging his lips down to meet hers. He knows she’s had a long couple of weeks so he tries to pour as much love and comfort into the kiss as possible, pulling her as close to him as he can.

A shudder runs through them and they break apart. Daisy looks up at him wide eyed and cheeks reddening. People have stopped and are staring at them startled and he realizes that it wasn’t a shudder than separated them but a quake.

“I’m sorry, I just really missed you too.”

A Daisy thing. Definitely a Daisy thing.

[bluesfortheredj]

Slow hands.

Ben’s mouth is moving and you’re pretty sure that there’s sound emanating from it, but all you can focus on are his hands as he gesticulates while he speaks enthusiastically about his new found love of drumming, and your eyes are trained on his nimble fingers as they wave from side to side, then curl up as he mimics holding drumsticks. He can see you’re distracted by them and smirks as he speaks to the others around the table who are too caught up in his story to notice your eyes following the movements of his hands like a cat with a laser. The busy dining hall around you falls silent to your ears as you continued to gaze at Ben, and when he finally snaps you back to reality with a squeeze to your shoulder you realise that it’s now just the two of you left at the table.

“Welcome back,” he chuckles.

“Sorry, I… Where did everyone go?” you frown as you look around at the empty chairs.

“Back to their boring, adult responsibilities,” Ben shrugs.

“Bit of a harsh way to talk about their kids,” you laugh.

“How come you haven’t settled down yet?” Ben asks as he leans forward to rest his chin on his hand as he eyes you with a questioning squint.

“Easy, I haven’t found the right person. And how about you? Why are you still on the market?”

“You know me better than anyone else, you tell me,” Ben challenges.

“Same as me, the right one hasn’t come along yet.”

“Ah, well actually you’re wrong. The right one has come along, they came along a very long time ago in fact...”

“Your dog doesn’t count,” you wink.

“Not talking about my dog,” he says with a shake of his head, “I’m talking about someone much closer than that, and I reckon they’ve found the right person as well but they’re too scared to say anything.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the realisation that he could be talking about you hits you like a train and you reach for your glass of water as you avert your eyes down to the table instead of into his mesmerising emerald orbs.

“She’s got it!” Ben cheers as he watches your reaction, “it’s finally clicked! I bet you’re thinking about how cute our babies would be aren’t you?”

“Ben this isn’t fun-” your sentence is cut off by Ben gently taking your face in his hands as he leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips to show you he was serious.

It was him, it had always been him, and you were genuinely terrified that one day when he found someone else you’d be completely unable to move on, but what you hadn’t counted on was the fact that it was you who he wanted all along. This was the kind of situation that only happened in movies and yet here you were in a packed restaurant sharing a kiss with someone who made it feel as if it were just the two of you there. Your hands grip onto his forearms before sliding up to his hands where your fingers weave between his as you carefully pull them away from your face, leaning away from the kiss to end it.

“Did I get it wrong?” he whispers.

“No,” you laugh, “no you didn’t.”

You rest your forehead against his while your fingers tighten around his, just to feel his strong hands on yours, and after a couple of minutes he pulls back with a smile.

“Want to get out of here?” he grins.

You nod slowly then he gets up to pay what’s left of the bill and returns just as you’re pulling your jacket on and placing your bag on your shoulder, and as you walk to the nearest tube station he can’t keep his hands off of you. The two of you face one another as you hold onto the railing above you on the carriage and as the train departs the station you stumble forwards into his body, his arm immediately sliding around you waist and holding you close as the air around you becomes thick with the sexual tension that’s now sparking between you.

“So what is this?” you ask, “between us?”

“I’m hoping it’s a relationship that will last forever, because it feels as though I’ve been waiting forever to admit my feelings,” he smiles.

“I like the sound of that,” you agree, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks as you allow yourself to lean into Ben that little bit further.

You groan when you both have to pull away at Ben’s stop but he soon tangles his fingers with yours as you step out into the station and make your way up to ground level. Your eyes look down at his hand that’s clasped around yours to see those tantalising fingers of his, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ben as he watches you with an adoring smile. He feels bad when he has to slip his hand from yours when you reach his front door, but you’re soon running your fingers along his again when you’re indoors, unable to hide the fact that you wanted them all over your body.

“You alright there?” Ben questions.

“God I love your hands,” you sigh.

“I’ve noticed,” he chuckles, “well, let’s put them to good use then,” he says as his gaze averts to the stairs behind you.

“Sure you don’t want to just be friends?” you tease.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, I love you far too much.”

“Shit, that’s a bit soon… I was at least going to wait until tomorrow morning to tell you I love you,” you chuckle, watching as Ben’s face turns from one of pure horror to happiness by the end of your sentence.

“Get up those stairs,” he tuts, slapping your bum playfully as you turn away.

You stop when you get to his bedroom and turn to face him as you stand in the doorway blocking his path then lift his hands from his sides and bring them up to your chest, letting them come to a stop on your bosom as you begin to step back slowly, his eyes now fixed on where his hands are. His fingers flex then tighten as they dig into your soft flesh through your t-shirt and bra, and you let out the softest of moans as you finally feel him touching you in the ways you’d only ever dreamt of before. The backs of your knees hit his bed; the bed you’d slept in before as just friends, the bed that was now about to be witness to the consummation of your new relationship as lovers, and the two of you pause before your lips meet in a desperate kiss.

Within moments there are clothes being thrown across the room as each layer is discarded to reveal that little bit more of the person you love until finally you stand with your naked bodies pressed against one another as you lips continue their dance together. Ben carefully guides you down to lay on the bed but you soon gain control when you swap places with him, and his hands gladly travel around your body while he eyes every single inch of your skin as if it were the only time he’d see it. Gasps, whines, moans and kisses are exchanged as your bodies fall into a loving rhythm together, and Ben traces his finger tips so gently across your skin, leaving his imprint on you forever while your hips come together to give you both an intense pleasure like nothing either of you had felt before.

“Oh my god,” you sigh when all is over and you’re both completely spent.

You lift yourself off of him and land face down on the bed next to his sweat beaded body, then he lets out a laugh as he turns on his side to brush your hair back from your face so he can see your flushed cheeks.

“That was so worth the wait,” he breathes as his fingers walk their way down your arm and over your back.

“god i love your hands” “lets put them to good use then” with Ben

@peachllobotomy @lv7867 @aynsleywalker @pink-lemo @painthatiusedto @itisjustmethistime @mamaskillerqueen @queenslandlover-93 @tenement-funstah @rogmeddows

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Academy Together, Friends Forever 9/10

Also on Ao3

(Beginning) (Prev Chapter) (Next Chapter) 

TK, Buck and Carlos have an evening together before everything comes to a head with Buck, who has reached his breaking point. His secret comes out, and so does Owen’s. (This chapter gets pretty sad and angsty pretty quickly in the form of one very bad nightmare) 

The tension that Buck had been sensing from Carlos since he picked them up had dissolved after they cleared up their misunderstanding and now he was finally getting to know who Carlos really was. Immediately, Buck liked his personality; he was charming, funny, and genuine. Basically, the complete opposite of TK’s ex Alex.

He couldn’t help but be pleased by that fact, because in the years that he’s known TK, Buck is pretty sure he’s never seen him as happy and comfortable than when he’s around Carlos, even if TK doesn’t realise it himself.

Halfway through the movie, Buck had briefly glanced over at TK and Carlos and caught sight of their hands joined together resting on TK’s leg with their fingers intertwined. And then by the end of it, Carlos had his head on TK’s shoulder. Really, he couldn’t help but smile at the cuteness of it all.

The hand holding continued even after the movie had ended and they started walking the streets to find a relatively quiet place to have dinner. As they slowly traversed the streets, Buck learned that Carlos was a cop, which he found made so much sense.  

 They eventually stopped at a small Italian restaurant and found themselves a table in a corner near the window. Almost as soon as they take a seat, TK, clearly thinking about romance because of the movie and his relationship with Carlos, gives Buck a sly smile which immediately puts him on guard, “Sooo, how’re things with Eddie?”

Buck could feel a blush warming his cheeks and he brings the menu up to conceal his face, feigning nonchalance, “Eddie is fine.”

“Who’s Eddie?” Carlos asks, looking between them, confused.

“Oh, just someone that Buck works with, who he can never seem to shut up about, or his son for that matter.” Replies TK teasingly.

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Eddie and I are just friends.”

Oh come on dude, you’ve been on the phone with him every day since you’ve been here from what I’ve seen and from what dad tells me. You can’t tell me there’s nothing going on.” Buck shoots him a look but before he can respond, a waiter appears beside their table asking them if they were ready to order.

Buck looks up quickly and seizes the opportunity to change the subject by announcing that, yes, they were ready to order. He deliberates, before deciding on a salad which earns him an intensely concerned look from TK. Carlos, bless him, was not one for making things awkward when he noticed the exchange and ordered himself a seafood dish before ordering a carbonara for TK.

In no time the waiter was gone and with the teasing now forgotten TK changes the subject, wanting answers. “Dude, you okay? You’ve barely eaten at all today; only a couple pancakes for breakfast and then you missed lunch cause you were in the hospital and you barely had any popcorn at the movies either.”

TK wasn’t wrong. He had barely eaten anything today.

Honestly, he hasn’t really had a true appetite for quite some time. Not since the tsunami really. And it's not from the lack of trying, he does eat, mostly out of obligation more than anything because he knows that he can’t not eat in his line of work. But the thing was that he just wasn’t hungry, and he’s acutely aware that it’s because of the nightmares that plague his dreams and leave him nauseous when he wakes.

Looking between TK and Carlos before settling back on TK, he shrugs not wanting to elaborate on those thoughts in this moment, deciding instead on an equally plausible and simpler answer.

“I’m okay,” liar  “I’m just not feeling 100% from the cuts and the smoke inhalation, but I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure…” TK says hesitantly while looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m positive, don’t worry about it.” TK gives him another long, considering look before deciding to trust him and drops the matter.

Carlos, who Buck is liking more and more as he has gotten to know him, breaks the awkward silence with a change in conversation and tells a story from his first day on the force.  After that, with the concern now forgotten, everything became light-hearted once again and soon enough their food had made its way to their table and into their stomachs.

Sure enough, the roiling in Buck’s stomach settled somewhat with dinner, but as he said to TK, he wasn’t feeling all that great especially with the amount of blood he lost. Really, he felt as if he’d just donated blood that day, except in this case it was much more pronounced.

His energy levels were flagging by they had all finished eating, so when he excused himself for a moment to use the bathroom, Buck also stops by the counter to pay the bill while also adding a couple of desserts to be sent out for TK and Carlos to enjoy. Upon returning, he leaned on his chair rather than sitting back down knowing it would take too much energy to get back up again, and announces that he was headed home for the night but that the two lovebirds should stay and have their dessert.

He couldn’t help but grin just a little bit at their confusion about the dessert before saying he’s already ordered something for them. He then ruffles TK’s hair and shakes Carlos’ hand before leaving. “I doubt I’ll see you again before I leave tomorrow but it was really great meeting you, Carlos.” He gives him a look, “Just don’t go breaking my boy’s heart.”

Carlos gives him an earnest smile in return. “Likewise, and don’t you worry, I’m not planning on it.”

Buck gives them both a nod and a wave before heading out the door and waits for the Uber he ordered. The car pulls up promptly and in no time at all, it was pulling up at the Strand house.

Thanking the driver, he yawns widely as he makes his way inside and quickly gets ready for bed before turning off the light and making himself comfortable under the covers. Feeling so exhausted from the day, he hopes that maybe for once it will be a dreamless sleep as he instantly feels the pull of sleep dragging him down into nothingness.

** ** **

Of course, it was never going to be a dreamless sleep, especially after the day he’s had.

Buck dreams of the tsunami. Lately, that’s all he’s been dreaming of. Of being tossed and spun around in the water, unable to tell which way was up. Like always, it feels like an eternity before he’s able to breach the surface, finally able to take in that breath that his lungs had been screaming for. Immediately his first thought is to find Christopher and he starts paddling to where he’s found him every other time only to find him missing. This is new. He calls out for him, swimming in a circle before he spots the fire engine and strikes out towards it only to find it empty as well.

Feeling despair welling up, he lets the wave drag him with it as the water recedes and finds himself being tossed back underwater before the it swells again and washes him up onto the footpath of a vaguely familiar street. Feeling the pavement scrape at his already raw skin, he drags himself up onto his hands and knees, panting, and looks ahead. It’s that house. The one from before with the father and son. Except this time, he can hear Christopher now. Coming from that house.

Picking himself up he gets to his feet only to immediately topple over. Looking down, Buck starts to hyperventilate, his leg from the knee down is gone. Missing. Amputated. Nonononono this can’t be happening, this has never happened like this. But before he has the chance to properly panic, Christopher’s voice breaks through to him, spurring him forward. He has to save him. He can’t let him down again.

Getting back onto his one foot, Buck starts hopping towards the house, and as he gets closer he can see Eddie being held back by Carlos, straining to break free to save his son. He hops once more towards the house only to nearly fall over in pain, feeling a lancing pain across his midsection. Looking down he can see blood seeping through his shirt.

With each hop, comes a new cut and by the time he makes it anywhere near the house he’s dizzy with blood loss and comes crashing down to his knees, too weak to be able to stand, screaming Christopher’s name. At some point Eddie’s voice cuts through his own, pleading for him to save his son. That it’s his fault. That he failed him. That he failed Christopher.

Rolling onto his back, all Buck can do is look up at the sky and heave in panicked breath after panicked breath, listening to Eddie telling what he’s always thought and ends up repeating Christopher’s name over and over again between breaths until another, different voice breaks through the haze. A warm, firm touch against his face from an unseen force, startles him awake and he tearfully comes face to face with Owen peering down at him in concern, ashen face full of worry.

He can’t catch a breath, fighting against Owen's hold and looking around for Christopher and calling his name. Vaguely, through his panic, he can hear Owen talking to someone before a phone is being pressed up against his ear.

“Buck? What’s happening.”

“Eddie.” He manages to gasp out. “Tell me again.”

“You saved Christopher. He’s safely sleeping in his bed. What happened was not your fault, you couldn't have know a natural disaster would happen.” Eddie says calm and evenly, repeating a well-rehearsed set of sentences that they learned calmed him best. 

Hearing the words was like a balm to his panicked heart and he leans forward bonelessly against Owen who was still sitting on the edge of his bed. Letting his breath slow, he looks down at his arm and sees the bandages, reminding him of the cuts in his dream and leading him to remember his leg. He takes in a sharp breath as he reaches down to feel the part of his leg that was missing and sighs, reassured to find it where it should be.  

“Buck? You still there?”

“Yeah,” he replies softly, “I’m still here.”

“Are you good? Did you need me to…?” The question goes unasked, but Buck knew what he was offering.

“No that’s okay Eddie I don’t think I need to see him tonight. You go back to sleep.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

“Thanks Eds, see you.”

“Anytime Buck.” And then he was gone, leaving Buck to bring his attention back to Owen who was watching him carefully.

He waits for him to say something, ask him what all that was, but Owen doesn’t, instead, he shifts closer and opens his arms. And that’s all it takes to turn him into a sobbing mess, falling against his warm chest and buries his face into Owen’s shoulder. Through heaving breaths, he can hear Owen murmuring into his hair as he holds him tight and that’s when all his resolve goes out the window and he tells him everything.

“I lost him…. I lost Christopher, Eddie’s son in the tsunami. I had him and then he was gone. I looked everywhere for him, found his glasses but I couldn’t find him. And that’s all I dream about. It used to be the bombing or losing Maddie but ever since the tsunami, all I dream about is losing him over and over again. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there, reliving that moment.” He pulls back from Owen’s embrace and wipes at his eyes.

“Tonight’s one was so much worse. The house fire from earlier, the kid, he reminded me so much of Chris. This time I couldn’t find him anywhere like I normally did and then I’m back at that house and Chris is calling for me and Eddie was there yelling at me to save him and I couldn’t do anything because my leg had been amputated and I got all these cuts all over my body. Owen, it was horrible.”

Owen pulls him back into a bracing hug, and Buck can’t help but fist his hands into the back of his shirt while pressing his face into his neck. Only then does Owen begin to speak.

“Eddie knows about the nightmares?”

Buck nods into his shirt before mumbling, “Only because I called him so many times after some really bad ones in a panic asking for Chris. He doesn’t know how often or what they’re about, but he’s got an idea.”

“This is why you barely sleep, isn’t it? You have nightmares every night.” Buck doesn’t say anything to that, instead nodding once again into Owen’s shoulder.

Owen sighs and pulls away, taking Buck's face into his hands. “I presume you haven’t told anyone else about this either.” Buck can’t bring himself to meet Owen’s gaze, confirming what the man already guessed. “Just promise me you’ll consider talking to someone about all of it. I hate seeing you like this. I just want you to be happy.”

Not one to be able to reject such a sincere request from someone he loves, Buck meets his gaze with a small nod, “Yeah, okay. When I get home, I’ll go see someone. I promise.”

Owen thumbs away a stray tear from his cheek and gives him a gentle smile, “That’s all I could ever wish for.”

Now that he’s had the time to calm down, Buck refocuses on Owen, taking in his haggard and pale appearance. Grasping Owen’s wrist and bringing his hand down into both of his, Buck finally voices his concerns.

“Owen, what’s been going on with you? I know something has been up with you since we had that talk in the car.” Buck gestures to his appearance, “Frankly, you look awful. Like you’ve been sick.”

Owen leans back and looks away, passing his free hand over his face as he does so. “That’s because I was throwing up in the bathroom before I heard you having a nightmare.”

“Owen, wh—”

“Buck, there’s no easy way of telling you this… but I’ve got lung cancer. I’ve known for a while, since we left New York actually. The chemo I’ve been getting has been making me feel nauseous lately, hence the throwing up.”

Buck sits there dumbfounded by the news but finds that he’s not as surprised by it as he thought he would be, mostly because he’d done a whole lot of research on 9/11 and its survivors some years back. Really, all he needed to know was two things.

“Does TK know?”

Owen rubs the back of his neck and looks away in discomfort, “Yeah, I told him a month or so ago now.”

Buck firmly takes Owen’s wrist in his hand and moves his head to catch Owen’s eye, “And you? How are you holding up?”

Owen huffs at his insistence but doesn’t complain, “The treatment is rough, but the doctor I’m seeing is hopeful and so am I.”

Buck nods, satisfied with the answer, and lightly claps his hand against Owen’s shoulder, holding it there, “We’re going to be alright.” It’s a statement, hopeful for what the future brings.

Owen gently pats Buck’s cheek fondly. “Yeah, we will be kid.”

And with that, he gets up with a groan, presses a kiss to Buck’s forehead, and heads out before pausing at the door, “Try to get some sleep.” He says over his shoulder before quietly shutting the door as he leaves.

Tag list: @judsonryder @bisexualbuck @buckleyevan @seaofashes @justsmilestuffhappens @diazbuckleysworld @diazsbuckley @confessions-of-a-shipperholic @spell-of-the-rain @novemberhush @black-forest-girl @bluebelle88 @adamngoodbuck @overtimeme @captain--sif @rachbabe007

[kyukun]

To the Birthday boy! (OumaSai)

FUCK YES!!!!! might write a smut ending to this too and post it to ao3 hmm

but yes i love this, hope you enjoy!

title: To the Birthday boy!

summary: Shuichi just wanted to throw a nice surprise birthday party for his boyfriend. Instead, he got stuck babysitting drunk idiots. Such luck he has.

word count: 1506

~~ prompt starts after cut! ~~

It was the twenty-first of June, better known as Kokichi Ouma's birthday. Kokichi made everyone and their dog aware that today was his birthday. And if anyone ever called him out on it, he'd just cue those puppy dog eyes and excuse his behavior on the simple fact that it was his birthday. Kokichi loved being spoiled. And now that he was dating Shuichi (the person who spoils him probably the most out of everyone,) and it was his birthday, today was going to be amazing. 

 He just knew it was. 

 Though, Shuichi hadn't really seemed to pick up on his various, and mind you, painfully obvious, attempts at hints for gifts whenever they went out. The detective would typically get sidetracked or just genuinely not get the hint whenever he did say something about it. For example, just last week, Kokichi and Shuichi went on a cute movie date, like couples do, and after the movie had decided to walk around the mall for a bit.

 While walking past a store, Kokichi had noticed a gorgeous matching pair necklaces with initial engravings. He assumed they were wedding gifts but either way, they were cute. He wanted Shuichi to get both of them one as a way to commemorate not only their relationship, but their love for one another. 

 And in this state of mind, he dropped a subtle hint, saying something along the lines of: "Saihara-chan, don't you think my outfit would look better with a necklace? Maybe a necklace… Like this one! There's two, so you and I can match." But even with this not-so subtle hint, he remained oblivious and was a good boyfriend about it. He explained that Kokichi didn't need a necklace to make his outfit better since him wearing anything makes the outfit better immediately. 

 Cheesy. 

 You've won this time, Mister Detective.

 After that, Kokichi kept throwing more and more hints at him but each time he seemed to dodge it. It was very frustrating. 

 Now on the other hand, Shuichi knew. Shuichi knew what he was doing and what those hints meant but played dumb for the sake of surprising him. He thanked god he learned from the best actor he knew, otherwise known as Kokichi himself, or else he wouldn't have been able to pull this off for that long.

 He commended himself for his willpower. Seeing the utter face of pure disappointment pained him more than anything and god, it was so fucking hard not to just burst out with apologies and explain everything sometimes. But he knew it would be worth it in the long run so he powered through it all.

 That being said, the party was today and Kokichi was hanging out with Kiibo and Rantaro as a distraction while the others set up the decorations. 

 Shuichi made some guidelines in order to prevent the party from going haywire.

 "Miu… What are you doing with all of that?"

 "This?" She held up a few packs of alcohol in her hand with a grin. "Oh come on! Shittyhara, you need to loosen up a bit. I'll be sure no one gets drunk."

 Rule one: No alcohol.

 Rule one failed.

 "And how are you going to manage that? Aren't you the one that gets drunk first anyway?"

 She gasped as if she were offended, though, Shuichi knew better than to know that she wasn't. "If anything, I'd say you're the one who gets drunk first! 'Sides what's a little fucking booze gonna do to ya?! Geez."

 "I can handle my liquor. I made it very clear that I didn't want alcohol here. So if you could just—" Before he could finish, Miu cut him off mid-sentence and opened the door for Kaito who had the balloons and other decorations in hand. "Hey y'all! What's popping?" Miu greeted Kaito with the obligatory “bro hug” with a fresh open bottle in hand. 

 “These bottles hopefully! If Pooichi here wasn’t being such a sour puss.” Miu antagonized, sticking out her tongue in a playful manner while Kaito bent down and grabbed a bottle from the box while he set down the balloons and various bags beside the door.

 “Oh come on, Shuichi. It’s just a few bottles.”

 “Guys, I said no. You guys know how Kokichi feels about alcohol.”

 “He’ll get over it.”

 Before he knew it, more and more people had begun showing up and had begun drinking. This lead Shuichi to do the decorations all by himself while everyone else drank their asses off. He couldn’t help but get a little bit angry. This was supposed to be a group effort. But right now, it seemed more like a one man job. While he didn’t mind that others were having fun, it was the fact that he was doing all of the work himself when everyone offered their help initially.

 Shuichi had received a text from Rantaro that they were on their way and that’s when he knew things were not going to go well.

 He mentally cursed himself as he glanced at the clock at the top of his phone. “Shit.” Shuichi set down his phone and ran around their apartment to gather the plethora of empty bottles that had begun gathering around their house. He collected as much as he could hold in his hand while he ran to drop them carefully in the garbage. 

 He did this for what seemed like hours before nudging Miu who was passed out on the couch. “Miu! They’re on their way. Come and help me pick everything up. Kaito, you too.” Kaito jolted awake, a bit of drool leaking from his mouth. Shuichi picked up the last remainder of bottles while Miu and Kaito both attempted to pick up surrounding garbage in their drunken states.

 “Right, right.” Kaito replied, his words slurring a bit. He stumbled as he used his hands to guide himself to the trash. Eventually, he had lost his balance, dragging down the birthday sign that Shuichi had set up along with his fall. And just like that, Shuichi saw all of his efforts go to waste as Miu and everyone who was there slowly messed up everything he had worked so hard to make perfect.

 He heard the door unlock open and in came Kiibo and Rantaro who had Kokichi blindfolded by his own scarf as they guided him into the room. “Guys, what are you all doing?” Kokichi giggled. Rantaro looked around at the growing disaster unfolding around him in pure horror. “What happened?” He mouthed to Shuichi who simply shrugged his shoulders with a sigh. “I don’t know. Blame Miu.” Shuichi mouthed back. Kokichi sat back in silence, increasingly growing restless as the pair exchanged words in secrecy, trying to figure out a plan but before they could, Kokichi took off his scarf.

 “Ok guys, I’m getting bored now. What’s going—Oh…” Kokichi held the scarf in his hand while Kiibo rushed over to help Miu who looked like she was about to puke all over the carpet. “Surprise?” 

 Kokichi was speechless. Multiple empty bottles were piled in one corner while some streamers hung sadly across their walls. A sign was also on the floor that he assumed Miu had written on that said “to the birthday boy!” in sloppy handwriting as well as the typical ‘Happy Birthday’ on top of it. Kokichi stared at Shuichi who seemed almost… embarrassed? 

 He smiled softly and lead his lover to the couch while Rantaro decided it’d be best to just leave the two alone.

 “Hey. This is quite the party you’ve got here Mister Detective.”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like alcohol. Miu brought it and she started drinking, then Kaito, then Maki,and I couldn’t stop them—”

“Shumai, it’s okay. It’s fine. Don’t stress about it.” He gently cupped his cheek while his serene smile remained. Seeing that smile made all of his worries melt away into thin air. “Really?”

 “Really. Thank you for this. I love you.”

 He kissed his lips and the latter kissed back. He was so incredibly lucky and unlucky at the same time. Shuichi grinned, “Close your eyes really quick.”

 With a small raise of his brow, he listened while Shuichi shuffled in his pocket. He felt something cold wrap around his neck. Almost metal like. It couldn’t be…

 His eyes shot open as he was greeted with a necklace. Not just any necklace though. The necklace. The same necklace he had been eyeing down for a week. The necklace that he been dropping hints about.

 "Y-you actually listened?"

 "Of course I did. Sorry this party is a huge mess but I tried. I got us that necklace you wanted so now we're matching." He whipped out the necklace from under his shirt and revealed it from its hidden location. He held the chain with his thumb and index finger with a cheesy grin as Kokichi felt his face flash red.  They exchanged a kiss before Kokichi swung out a bottle from beneath him.

 “Now, time to party.”

[sugaxjpg]

04 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 6,892

Author’s Note: And here it is... whatever this is. Laura and I are sorry. Also, Part 5 will be a bit longer than the ones we have put out so far, so pls be patient!! It’ll come :,) 

Your debate class had its intense, hair-pulling moments in the past — from the dichotomy of the current political climate to philosophical dialogues about Descartes’ universal doubt — but, every once in a while, even your professor would get stressed at the constant bickering of his top 10 students and, instead, would chose a dumb theme that the class could find some sort of humor in. After some time, even that showed itself to be an obstacle, since most of your classmates had their head so far up their own ass that they forgot what the sun looked like, even less what it was to have a chill, borderline comical, conversation with another human being.  

And that was where you and Namjoon came in.

If you were to be completely honest, you could say without a shadow of a doubt that the two had a constant veil of bitterness floating between you. What could you do? Both of you were a bit more competitive than you should be, and the prospect of academic validation was far too tempting for you two to just let it slide. But, damn. If Dante Alighieri had the misfortune of meeting Kim Namjoon throughout his life, you were absolutely sure he would have added the man somewhere amongst his circles of inferno — because, Jesus Christ, was he a pain in the ass when he took things to his personal side.

“In synthesis, professor, I must conclude,” Namjoon started, leaning against the tall surface of his table. The copy of the discussed book was placed before him, and you could see that he had highlighted — and color-coded — at least half of it. “Bella Swan should have picked Jacob instead of Edward. The amount of danger she faced was ridiculous, and perfectly avoidable if she had chosen the one that was always there for her and, quite frankly, much more attractive.”

Subtle. Always so subtle.

With his feet over a nearby desk, your professor hummed, and used his cup of coffee to hide the smirk that creeped up on his lips. From your peripheral vision, you could see the other students exchanging animated glances, waiting for your turn to defend Team Edward. “Alright. Very good, Kim,” he praised, then turned to you. His mop-like moustache was stained by the brown coffee, and it looked more disgusting than it should. “What do you have for us, defense?”

You pushed your shoulders back and, without a missed beat, spoke your truth. “I disagree with Namjoon’s conclusion, professor. Edward Cullen cared about Bella Swan much more than Jacob ever did. He was only angry because he was thrown into the friendzone, and did not get his desires fulfilled by his best friend.” Your eyes darted towards Namjoon as you verbalized those words, wishing you were just as subtle as he had been — that is, not at all. “Edward protected Bella since the start, was patient, and didn’t force anything on her. With all due respect, professor.” You turned back to the class. “Jacob had no free-pass to Bella’s black lacy underwear just because he had been there for longer.”

“That’s irrelevant to this debate, come on!” Namjoon defended himself, blushing from the tip of his ears to — not that you had been looking before — the place where his tan skin disappeared under his shirt. The buttons opened, that would’ve gotten him a warning in high school—but in college it was the average cool dude uniform.  “Jacob was not as simple-minded as he’s thought to be. He may be a werewolf but he’s not stupid—”

“Well, I have to disagree. As you may have read — and I’m sure my opponent highlighted this part too—, in the fourth book of the saga Jacob imprinted Edward and Bella’s new-born baby, under the justification that, and I quote, everything he was—snip, snip, snip—floated up into space when he met the baby’s eyes, which are coincidentally very similar to Bella’s who happened to be at the moment, dead.”

“It is explained within the Twilight universe that werewolves often link themselves to their partners for life.” Namjoon barked back, although there was no confidence left within him when he opened the book, and started looking through his notes, wondering how he could’ve left the imprinting-the-baby topic out. What a mess.

Poor Namjoon had surely been very busy dreaming of your black underwear to finish preparing the debate and that, good for you, meant you had won — for once.

“My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat — not a burning,” you read, trying to occult behind the pages the wicked smile invading your features. At the back of the classroom, your classmates started laughing enough for Mr. Moustache to turn around and shush them. Namjoon was paralysed. His projection into the Jacob’s character was not as funny anymore. “Around five minutes before he falls in love with the half-vampire parasite, he’s hugging Bella’s flailing body, forbidding her from dying. He’s not what I call… consistent with his feelings.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to talk, but all of the present souls knew that his chances of coming back from that annihilation were practically zero. With a smile and a resonating laugh, Professor Pornstache turned around to the class. “Alright, children of the corn, you all know how it goes,” he started. You had no idea how he hadn’t noticed the soaked mess that his upper lip had turned into, but that’s what botox injections can do to your overall sensibility, after all. “Write on a piece of paper who you think won, and then let’s do this as democratically as we can — even if we all know that the final word is mine.”

You rolled your eyes at your professor’s attempt at being Cool With the Kids. Mussolini over there — Mustachelini? Nah — constantly tried to sneak in references of popular movies into his every sentence, which explained his constant obsession with reviewing young adult novels. Next one up, according to him, would be something from Cassandra Clare, and you really didn’t think you’d be able to endure another painfully awkward love triangle discussion, even less the hidden incest.

With a few chuckles and guilty gazes crossing, the classroom was quick to pass the papers off to the front row, where the teacher’s personal pet — Jisoo? Achoo? Bless you — could organize and count the votes. You were lucky she was great at her job, for it took her less than five dragged-out, silence-filled minutes to have an answer.

With a grin that seemed to come out straight from a Monopoly live-action movie, your professor looked down at the winner’s name. “Oh, look at that,” he said. “Seems like we have a new name to pay attention to. Namjoon…” he dragged out his speech in a way that you swore the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Next to you, the boy leaned forwards, chest filled up with pride. “Better luck next time, kid. Y/N got the trophy. That’s ten points to gryffindor, and a nine for Team Edwards.”

With the weight of defeat dragging his shoulders down, Namjoon retreated to the back of the classroom, where the bad boys — you almost cringed thinking of him as one of those — sat and gnawed gum loudly trying to make the world believe their attitude would get there somewhere in life except, perhaps, jail. He plopped onto his chair, and let out a defeated sigh. If he couldn’t win a Twilight debate that meant his career was over, his reputation on the floor. It was a tragic defeat, one he had never expected.

Part of him, you thought, should be happy that it had been you the one to conquer the first place. It could have been someone else, like the guy from second row who carried an anime figurine around and ate his boogers when he thought no one was watching; or maybe, the resident weed-lover, who would probably rant for five minutes about the necessity to legalize marijuana, and avoid altogether the mundane problems of two-hundred year old bloodsucker hottie number 1; and very white, very anodyne Bella Swan.

“So, tell me, what kept you so busy that you couldn’t finish the assigned reading?” You questioned, rubbing — as they would say — salt over his overabundance of pride wounds. It was petty, but it was the funniest part of defeating the smarty-pants in the room. “Anything on your mind? Do you need a pep-talk? My therapist’s number, perhaps?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his desk and laid his head over them, hoping the earth could just open up and swallow him alive. It crossed his mind that Jungkook probably didn’t even know which elements that are inside the Earth’s core — nickel and iron, for the ones wondering — even less which layer was liquid: internal or external. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe you wanted someone that was more than brains, or maybe you could be searching for someone so dumb that would make you feel more confident at your own IQ — yeah, that was probably it. You wouldn’t pick anyone but Namjoon if that wasn’t the case.

But he needed to control the flux of his thoughts before it got the best of him, and he made the mistake of being a little bit more honest than he should. What could he do? His pride was completely shattered — over a Twilight debate, for fuck’s sake — and he was struggling to seat down after the catastrophe that had been that pizza. Never underestimate the enemy. Never underestimate cheese left out to rot for too long.

And, most importantly, never underestimate Jeon Jungkook.

“So, Y/N,” he started, raising his head from the desk. Two other students had already moved to the front of the class to start their debate on the powers of some of the secondary vampire characters, but he didn’t care about it — that one, he could win it in his sleep —, for his eyes were completely glued to your own. “You ran away from us that night at the party. Care to say what happened between you and your misunderstood knight?”

And god bless your winner high for not making your face crack under the sudden question. Even if the image of Jungkook rubbing his cherry splitter came back in a hormonal rush throughout your body and mind, the smirk in your lips lingered, and your inner despair did not drip through your words. “Nothing happened, we are perfectly fine,” you lied. “In fact, he invited me to go to Jimin’s pool party next weekend. Hope you don’t mind my company.”

It was ephemeral, but you saw the way Namjoon’s eyes widened for an instant — he was a mortal man, with simple mortal needs. Seeing glimpses of your black underwear? That was nice. Seeing you in full bikini? That was a miracle, and Kim Namjoon wasn’t someone to disregard a message from the Lord.

He cleared his throat, and looked towards the front of the class, where the debate was starting to heat up. One of the students claimed that vampires having weather-controlling abilities made no sense, for it was Twilight, and not X-men. He had to agree with that one. “That’s… something to consider,” he spoke. It was getting hot there? It was either you or the intestinal cramps from that forsaken pizza — how many days would it take for it to leave his system? God. “Never thought of you as someone who enjoyed… the outdoors.”

“I’m not the sun’s biggest fan, that’s true,” you acknowledged, “but that’s what relationships are about, you know? Making sacrifices, spending time with your boyfriend’s friends. All that.”

Namjoon, once again, lost his space to speak. As his eyebrows twitched together in a sign of his disbelief — and a bit of jealousy, let’s be honest — and his plump lips parted in a silent exclamation, the screen of your phone lit up, a loud ding! ruptured the attention of the class. From the front row, Pornstache asked for you to turn the device off.

“Won’t you look at that,” Namjoon complained, watching your fingers as you quickly placed your phone on silent mode. “Edward Cullen is here to save the day.”

There was a tinge of agony in his voice, that you interpreted as a silent hope that he could someday become the one to disrupt the class to send you, perhaps, a corny I miss you, let’s meet at the library after class, or a more saucy — and god knows you hate that expression — I’d love to be in bed right now, doing you-know-what. Namjoon didn’t strike you to be one to send a I’ll fuck you raw against the wall only because he would understand the physical limitations that would come with such statement.

“Edward Cullen is just trying to know if I’ll be going to your match next week, I think,” you lied. The phone vibrated against the table, insistent. It was like having Jungkook behind your back, saying whatever nonsense he had come up with that same morning. “Don’t you have something useful to do? I don’t know, start reading Cassandra Clare’s failed incest fanfic attempts or something?”

“Nah, you know what? I’m going to the bathroom. That pizza is still kicking my intestines, and not in a good way.” He smiled, and it was dashing. “See you later.”

“When you finish pooping.”

“Yeah.”

With raised eyebrows and the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips, you watched as Namjoon made his walk of shame towards the front of a class, then quickened up his pace suddenly. If you could go back to the night of the party and tell him about the consequences of his ridiculously high cheese consumption, you wouldn’t. It was too funny to just let it pass.

Your entertainment, however, was short-lived. As soon as you turned your gaze back to the device on your hands and actually read through the previews of Jungkook’s messages, you could tell that something was wrong.

Jungkook’s only neuron: [incoming video]

Jungkook’s only neuron: SHRIIRSHIT

Jungkook’s only neuron: NO DONT OPEN THAT PLEASE DONT

Jungkook’s only neuron: THAT ISN’T FOR YOU BABY NO

Jungkook’s only neuron: IM SO SORRY OMHFGF NPONONOONO

Jungkook’s only neuron: i want to die please dont download the video please i will do anything i will buy you milkshakes for the entire week plea...

But it was too late: you knew Jungkook was terrible at finding compelling arguments, but that was just too much. He knew you were curious, and his overwhelmed texts only increased your sadism to prolong his suffering. Of course you were going to see whatever the hell he had sent you, and of course you would make sure to tease him for it until the end of time. It was what he deserved after dragging you for yet another acting gig.

So, you unlocked your phone, and went straight to his conversation. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were met with — but one thing was for certain: you were so happy that you had brought your earphones that day.

Curiosity started to carve a hole within your chest. It started as a mere tingle, just below your breastbone, when you plugged in your earphones and starting downloading the video. Had Jungkook been a bit smarter that day — or just more technology-conscious — he would have remembered there was an option to delete his video. It would erase it from the face of earth, and with it the shame it would bring along. It was useless now, because by the time he understood the power he had allowed to slip away you would have already saved the thing in your phone. For blackmail purposes only, of course.

With absolutely no expectations, you pressed play. The condemnatory piece of evidence Jungkook had sent by mistake started playing on your screen, a vastness of black pixels and an eventual flash of light. It must be something huge, for him to panic — while sober — on the chat-room. And huge it was, although at first the image was without form and void. Darkness invaded the screen, like there was a towel or a shirt placed in front of the camera, and the only remnants of light that managed to filter in were through holes in the cotton.

Maybe Jungkook had finally lost his mind, and he had recorded one of those confession videos with huge cards. You are perfect to me, could have been read in one of those, scribbled with a Sharpie in his terrible handwriting. But Jungkook was not the romantic type so that would not be the case, he had a reputation to hold — surprisingly, he had not destroyed it yet.

And so the dumbass said “let there be light”, and there was light — and the most horrendous pink tiles covering the bathroom floor. He appeared into focus, clad in grey sweatpants and a tee shirt that you recognized immediately as part of the training gear for the volleyball team.

“Oh, god,” you muttered to yourself, watching him seat cross-legged before the camera. You had watched enough porn in your life to, at least, sense where this was going, but you were not prepared. Not at all.

When the boy — Jungkook, it was fucking Jungkook and you knew it — moved backwards on the shot, the entire scene came into focus, presenting you with the image of what you presumed was his bathroom. You would recognize that pink abomination anywhere, even if, the last time you witnessed it, you had not payed attention to the disgusting fact that the tiles were also a pallid tinge of roseate; the same color of the heat that painted the boy’s cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears.

The image was slightly blurred still, but you could tell that he was sitting on the floor, back pressed against a bathtub. Jungkook had moved down on the shot enough so you could see up to his nose, but his eyes were still out of frame. It didn’t matter: you knew it was him, and you could not stop looking at the way his swollen lips were parted, glistening with the thin layer of his saliva. From in between them, came the weak, shy sound of a moan, and his body shivered in expectation.

Before you could even take hold of your actions, your gaze was already shooting downwards, past the droplets of sweat on his tan neck, and the obnoxious colors of his team shirt — for fuck’s sake, he was clearly not the brightest of minds, but, if he wanted it to be a bit harder to figure it out who it was, he shouldn’t have worn that. Dumbass. The hottest fucking dumbass you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Not the point.

Then, you saw it, and your mind went blank. Jungkook had one of his veiny hands placed over his hard member, its outline vaguely visible through the thick fabric of his pants. And, shit, that wasn’t the only thick thing in sight. But anyways. He was caressing it slowly, up and down, then rolling his palm against it slowly, dragging out the whines that broke upon his lips. Through your earphones, you could hear the fragile inflections of his voice against your ear, and you swore you could feel his raggedy breath hitting your skin at every new exhale.

On the upper part of your screen, another message popped up: I can tell you’re online!!!! it practically yelled, reeking of desperation and pheromones. You ignored it. There were more interesting things happening. Bigger things.

Jungkook pressed his palm down on his cock one, twice, but soon grew impatient at the lack of sensibility it provided. You tapped on the video and saw that it was three minutes long, which told you just how much he was eager to get straight to the point; and, much to your inner satisfaction, your hypothesis was quickly proved.

Almost timidly — who would’ve thought Jeon Jungkook could be any shade of timid, for fuck’s sake — the tip of his cock was released from the constriction of the elastic. He had been dripping enough to wet the fabric, and it elicited a thousand questions amongst which the idea of Jungkook cumming in his pants, unable to stop himself was primordial and very much overwhelming.

With more tenderness you had ever imagined he would be capable of, he pressed his thumb against his crown, smearing his slick all around. It ripped a long-drawled groan out of his throat, as he threw his head back and against the bathtub. Sweat started to pool in hollow of his clavicle when he dared move again, hand encircling his length.

That was the moment you understood the situation was serious in more than one way because a) Mr Pornstache was still doing whatever he believed was teaching, b) Namjoon had just crossed the classroom threshold and was about to return to his place by your side; and c) your panties were wetter that the goddamn Nile and it was Jungkook’s doing.

Way to start the week.

Then again, miracles can present themselves every once in a while and, for you, it was the fast-thinking that suddenly overtook your senses. Even if every fiber of your being begged for you to do otherwise, your fingers were quick to pause the video, block your phone, and shove your earplugs inside your jacket’s pocket before Namjoon’s gaze even casted itself in your general direction. Usain Bolt who?

You cleared your throat — was it hot in there?  “There you are,” you whispered as he sat down next to you. Namjoon looked one shade whiter and many years older. “Had fun?”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of question is that?” You did not know. You weren’t thinking straight. You could barely recall your name amongst the echoes of Jungkook’s moans inside your mind, and it was driving you insane. “Anyways,” he started, “did I miss something important? Any big arguments to take into consideration?”

“The biggest argument I’ve ever see— I mean no, nothing,” you were quick to correct yourself. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you recalled every medical drama you’ve ever watched, the movement of the defibrillators and the anxious screams of the doctors — charge it to 200; to 500… There’s nothing else we can do, we lost her. Jungkook strikes again. “You know what? This reminds me, I should go to the bathroom as well— To do… to… take care of lady stuff.”

Taken aback by surprise, Namjoon leaned back against his chair and raised his eyebrows in expectation, trying to predict where that was heading towards. He was clearly doubtful of your actions, and Mr Mustachelini was far too enrolled in the superpower debate to care about the way you roughly moved to your feet, almost knocking the desk over as you did so. Thank the heavens above that you didn’t wear a skirt that day, because the situation in between your legs was reaching critical levels.

“Lady… stuff?” he repeated slowly. There it was: the man you learned to fear in debates and in the court, with those piercing pupils and the expression that told you that there was no use in lying, for he already knew the secrets that you hid underneath your tongue. “Did something happen?”

You laughed nervously. “Absolutely nothing happened,” you lied. He could tell. Somehow, he just could. “I just have to leave, it’s gonna be really quick just… okay, bye.”

Namjoon moves around very slowly. The commotion of your sudden leave had probably pressed a slow-mo button he could not turn off. It was like all his energy was being redirected towards his brain, aimed at the gears you could almost hear rumble. It was just a bathroom escapade, it wasn’t that deep. But Namjizz was keen on discovering the secrets you were not skilful enough to conceal — at least not with the image of Jungkook’s swollen dick in his pretty hands still engraved in your brain.

“Bye,” you repeated, waving him farewell. Still perplexed he muttered something along the lines of: are you sure everything is alright? That you never responded to. All you could picture was the girls’ bathroom at the end of the corridor, the cubicle at the far left — the one less transited.

You had some dignity left inside, so you didn’t run. Instead, you walked as fast as your legs allowed. In hindsight, it was a ridiculous image, but you could only feel the weight of your phone growing heavier in your pocket, the wires tangling like serpents as some sort of cosmic punishment for your unspeakable crimes. As if it wasn’t enough that you had fallen for the local cliché; that you had been tempted by the one character in the comic you had promised you would only treat with disdain and, perhaps, some well-founded superiory.

Jungkook was an overused trope, that was clear enough —  thanks brain for the painful reminder! — but fuck, did he make you wet with only a few seconds of his blurry, leaked sextape.

Despite the late hour, the bathroom was deserted. You had been hoping to find someone there, someone disagreeable and nasty who would kill your libido with just a look. Coco would’ve fit the role. But there was no one around, and the cleaning lady had just polished the tiles till they shone like diamonds.

Weren’t you the luckiest girl in the entire university, huh?

Giving it no more thought, you locked yourself inside the cubicle. Your phone vibrated again, this time in your hand.

Jungkook’s only neuron: please Y/N  i didn’t mean to send that to you. it was a mistake. come back and call me a pig BUT DO SOMETHING. THIS IS LIKE POKING A STONE WITH A STICK

Jungkook’s only neuron: if you didn’t see it as I BEGGED YOU TO PLEASE FORGET I EVEN SAID THAT

He continued to rant into the group chat, monologuing about the many reasons behind your silence. It was — truth be told — abnormal of you to skip a chance to roast him, but there were more important matters to attend to. With a quick swish of your finger you silenced him, and with it the guilt that could come.

In movements far too quick to be your own, you plugged in the earphones in your ear, checked that they were well connected to your device — the last thing you needed was to interrupt the chastic beauty of that recently-cleaned bathroom with Jungkook’s devilish moans — and moved back to the video. The recording started over, but you were quick to move back to the time stamp you had stopped in — 1:38, precisely and, yes, you had memorized.

Now, that was when your morning started to go downhill, because it was when you decided to, as you had mentioned before, defenestrate the rest of your pride, and do the dirty work. Kind of: you were a bit out of your senses, but not enough to finger the baby maker in the middle of a public bathroom, no matter how clean it was.

So, you settled for the second best.

As the video resumed, you noticed the wetness that had spread between your thighs, only increasing as those lust-filled images flashed before your gaze. There was something alluring about the idea of the Great Jeon Jungkook playing with himself, allowing for his hips to roll against his hand as temptation overtook his senses; his legs so weak that he could barely move in that gruesomely pink bathroom floor. He was edging himself, that you could tell from the continuous biting of his lower lip, and the quivering pants that left his mouth, and he was adoring every second of his self-inflicted torture.

Moans and curses poured from his chest like ambrosia, and your other hand was quick to undo the buttons of your pants. You could see him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, as his parted lips groaned for release, his muscles clenching again and again; cock throbbing in his hands. Perhaps, in an instant of patience, he would rub himself through his underwear until he was hard enough, or maybe he would grind against his bed until he could no long take the pleasure that monopolized his carnal desires.

Not that you were far away from that fate.

Hastily, you placed your hand in the space between your jeans and your underwear, finding your clit instantly. Your fingers traced circles over your sensitive spot, but the numbed feeling was awfully frustrating to endure. Just like the fucking video before your eyes was; the rise and fall of Jungkook’s abdomen as he reached for his own orgasm; the teasing of his thumb against the top of his member; the weak, whimper-like moans that infested your mind like a damn egyptian plague. Everything about that situation was frustrating, and it was tearing you from the inside out.

As he so tenderly caressed his length, you wondered at the rubor that had conquered his neck, the toned expanse of his chest. Jeon Jungkook had lost the intimidating arrogance that seemed to envelope his entire being. There was no arrogance in the curve of his mouth when opened his mouth in a whimper that broke before it could be captured by the microphone of his phone. There was no pride in the way he tilted his head back, fingers tight around his cock as he fucked himself relentlessly.

Despite the lack of friction, the sole image of his muscles tensing as he approached his release was enough to have you trembling. The memento of his hands roaming your waist was clear in your mind when you pressed your clit just a bit harder, wishing it was him the one to tease you with the same cruelly he was teasing himself. The wonders his fingers could do, his tongue. As his moans became louder, your movements turned erratic, almost desperate. It threatened to break you, but you could not find reason within yourself to stop.

Still, Jungkook wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn't find a way to ruin your fucking day.

The vibration of your phone in your hands made your heart jump inside your chest and, for an instant, you swore you had seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and the angels calling you to join them above. But no — it was the human-shaped devil named Jungkook and he was, quite literally, calling you.

With a stressed-out groan, you barely thought about your actions before sliding to answer his call, his previous moans being immediately replaced by static. “What the fuck do you want, Jungkook?”

From the other sound of the line, you heard a shuffle. “Oh great, you picked up,” he spoke. You couldn’t tell if his voice was permeated by annoyance or by relief and, quite honestly, you didn’t give a flying fuck — you had your hands pressed against the soaked mess that had become your panties in a public bathroom, and the last thing you needed was to psychologically characterize his timbre based upon the inflections of his tone. “We have to talk.”

Honestly? Fuck it. The guy had already ruined one rub-out session for you, and he wouldn’t do the same thing again; not when the only detail you could think about had been the ridiculously hot video he had sent you. “No we don’t,” you threw back, breathing growing sharp as you continued your motions — slower this time. “This is not the time, and you have nothing—” You paused, biting back a moan, then masking it as a cough. Okay, you certainly didn’t think that through. “You have nothing to justify.”

“You know I do.” He hesitated. “It’s about the video.”

“Of course it’s about the fucking video,” you interrupted, throwing your head back against the wall. You were starting to get close, and you knew it. “Are you narcissistic enough to jerk off to a video of you... jerking off? This is the weirdest case of inception I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook paused on the other end. “Inception? But that has nothing to do with my family.”

Good god, have mercy on your soul. “Inception, Jungkook.” You groaned. “Not incest.”

“Not the point, smart ass,” he was quick to reply and — fuck Jungkook and his honey voice — you could have sworn he had almost stuttered. There was no way you could have known for sure, for your own mind was wandering elsewhere and you were barely containing the tremors of your own voice. “I really need to see you and explain, so tell me where to go and I’ll be there.”

“Jungkook,” you called, and your brain thought it was a great moment to bring the images you had been trying to avoid, of Jungkook in-between your legs licking your wetness away as you whimpered his name. At the end of the line there was only static to match your error, so you rapidly added. “There’s no need to explain. I really have no interest in seeing you beat your meat to whatever Arctic Monkeys song you chose as your sex jam, so I don’t really care about your reasons—”

“It’s very normal to do something like this, okay? Some guys do it all the time. I do it all the time to, you know, see how I perform and everything.” You had long lost track of his explanation. The murmur of his voice was just an echo at the back of your head, for you had never stopped pressing your fingers against your clit, trying to subdue the sweet pain threatening to take over. Your brain was overworked — and overwhelmed — and Jungkook blabbing his way out of shame was not annoying enough to stop you. “It’s like monitoring yourself, and It makes me a better lover. A better partner, if you want. Y-you should be glad I’m doing this—”

As Jungkook ranted on, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him, for you knew the moment you tried to speak only a moan would emerge from your throat.

Jungkook, however, took your silence as a punishment. “So you really watched it, huh?” He chuckled, humorless. “Guess I fucked up again—”

For fuck’s sake not now. The way he hesitated — just for a second — before he spoke and his voice refused to come out untainted but in a rough whisper, was the last thing you needed to complete your descent into Dante’s nine circles of hell.

Before you could notice, the faintest whimper dripped from your lips, a broken chord that sounded like his name.

Well, if you wanted to stop Jungkook from blabbering, that was the way to go.

Maybe if you had been a little more in your senses, the realization that you had just moaned out the fragmented syllables of his name would have seemed like an apocalyptic forewarning for the chaos that would ensue. But no: you were far too gone to care, and it had fulfilled your initial purpose of silencing the annoying insect buzzing in your earphones.

But of course, Jungkook wouldn’t let it go so easily.

On the other end of the line, he cleared his throat. “What… are you doing?” He paused, seeming to take in all the details he had ever so naively overlooked aforetime — the vague panting that departed from in-between your lips, the eagerness in which you rushed to finish your sentences. Something odd was taking place, and even his one living neuron could perceive it. “You sound like you just ran a marathon. ”

“It’s a debate class, genius, things got… heated,” and that had been the perfect word to use. “I’m not doing anything.”

There was a second of hesitation before he spoke up again. “Isn’t Namjoon in that class with you?”

“Yes. Congrats on the goldfish memory.” You breathed out — okay, you could maybe hold yourself back. You were getting close, for your legs were already shaking, and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a couple seconds and, if you had holden tight for that long, you could do it again. Just no more moaning. Not in front of him. Later, maybe.

“That’s weird,” Jungkook spoke. Fuck his voice, fuck the way his whimpers and cries for release still echoed inside your head; fuck the delicious sight of his head thrown back, and his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Fuck him. Fuck you. Hopefully. “I just texted him and he said that you left to go to the bathroom. For lady pro—”

“—It’s a different Namjoon.” What kind of answer was that? You were barely thinking. “Listen, Jungkook, I’m not in the mood to talk, so maybe you could just… call later?”

“There’s only one Namjoon, and we both know his lame lactose-intolerant ass.” Jungkook could be sharp if he thought very hard. Maybe the ruptured thoughts crossing your mind, the weakness spreading all over your body, was what he had needed to fight on equal ground — and somehow you knew he would be very proud of this victory. “You received the video, and then went to the bathroom?” He was trying to organize the timeline of your befall, and for once his solitary neuron was cooperating, while yours were just running around, screaming like hippies high on acid. “Did you go to the bathroom… to watch it?”

“Jungkook, just drop it.” You whined, the sound needier than you had ever intended. “Let’s talk later, okay? I need to go back to class now. Call me later if you want and we’ll talk about the stupid party or your rampant narcissism, whatever you want.”

“I’ll wait for you after class—” He didn’t sound convinced. The raggedness of your voice was a good reason to be puzzled, but the guy was apparently too idle to hang up and do something useful. “We can go somewhere to discuss the party details if you’re up. You know, like a business meeting but in like a café or something.”

“I have a test tomorrow.” Holding to the last threads of rationality, you understood it was time to end the conversation. “Nice talking to you, Jungkook. Bye.”

Jungkook would have questions, of course, but you could only think of him, his hands, his soft lips against your own. Your hand returned to torture your clit, this time unrestricted by his presence on the phone. It was ridiculously easy to find the right pace, to bring back the memory of his weights pressing against your own, his tongue discovering your mouth. Jungkook could mess your existence even in your imagination and that was something you had to confess you had never expected.

Call ended, you allowed yourself to suspire in relief, dwelling in the absence of his frequent interrogations, and the pleasure that was overtaking your senses. The silence, however, was short-lived: you forgot you still had the video playing in the background.  

Now, some things in life are beautifully synchronized: the fly of birds as the sun sets; your favorite sad song playing while you’re driving in the rain… Jungkook’s dragged-out moans echoing inside your head the same instant you found your high. You know, the simple stuff. The kind of stuff that makes you lay awake at night in horror.

Your legs trembled when you reached your orgasm, waves of heat running up and down your thighs as you fought to suppress a prolonged whimper. On your hands, the device called for your attention, and your parted eyes barely got the glimpse of a smaller, digitally edited Jungkook covering his abs with the white strands of his own relief; hips rolling against his palm as his mouth, open, cried out in sheer alleviation. You loved that sight, and it pushed you even further down your decay into inferno.

But, of course, the video didn’t stop there. It didn’t fade into black, as you had expected, because you deserved a plot twist to end the day. You had depleted your luck reserves long ago — probably during a math exam — so it was highly unlikely that the guy would just finish the deed and turn off the camera.

No, instead Jungkook continued teasing his cock until his thighs trembled with the excess of his own caresses; limbs flinching under the tides of his exaggerated stimulation. He could not bite back he suspires of despair as he rode a second orgasm and muttered an unintelligible prayer.

Wait, scratch that. You rewinded the video, to listen for a second time. In this occasion you closed your eyes, because his fucked-out face was far too distracting for your brain to keep up with so many stimuli.

It was, actually, very intelligible.

Jeon Jungkook was not praying, but moaning your name.

That, nevertheless, was a secret that would die with you. Or so you hoped.