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leclsrc · 1 year

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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

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haetrack · 4 months

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your fate, my karma

jung jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you. but he can’t help it, it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret.

warnings: angst, little fluff, friends with benefits, pining, one sided love, confession, argument, smut (MDNI), desperate jaehyun, unprotected sex (pulling out), possessiveness and jealousy, dialogue heavy at some parts

heavily inspired by somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

part three to the how it all goes series!

you're laid back onto his bed, heavy breaths fanned across your face. on top of you is jaehyun, cheeks dusted with pink as his fingers are still move inside of you. “stop already,” you huff out a laugh, “i might die if you make me cum one more time.”

he chuckles at your words and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, sucking obscenely on them just to annoy you. it works, and you cover your eyes to get the image out of your head. you don’t offer to help him out, and he doesn’t ask for any favors.

he’s not really sure how his friendship with you got to this point. if he could put it simply, you told him that you had feelings for him, asking if he felt the same way. he said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wasn’t ready to be so vulnerable in front of another person. he still wanted to be friends with you.

he remembers seeing sadness flash through your eyes, but you just smiled at him and accepted the answer that you got. in a way, jaehyun wished he could like you back, he hated the way he hurt you, but he just wasn’t ready. you were wary around him, trying to hide the hurt that he caused you. he couldn’t bear to see it, and hated how much you were hiding from him.

which is how he finds you next to him, curled up in his bed after he’s made you cum. he knows it probably wasn’t the best idea to propose, but he didn’t know how else he could keep you close. when he explains it to himself in his head, it sounds shitty, makes him feel a little fucked up. he tries to justify it, but really, all of this is a temporary fix to keep you close to him.

despite all the grey areas in his friendship with you, he’s certain about one thing: he really does like having you around. he’s chalked it up to his feelings just being from how long he’s known you, but he knows that there’s something else he doesn’t want to admit. because one, it’s fucked. two, he’s rejected you. three, he can’t like you.

he can’t like like you. he doesn’t even want to imagine thinking about the other word, but it plays at the back of his head sometimes. he hears it when you’re both out at a bar together, watching you drunkenly cling to his side. he hears it when you’re at his apartment after work. he hears it when your eyes look up at his when you drop to your knees.

he can hear it even now as you lay next to him, curled up into his side as your breaths even out. it doesn’t feel weird that he can feel your naked body against his, his best friend comfortably laid up next to him. is it so wrong of him to want this? you became more comfortable around him again after he had sex with you. he knows it’s just a temporary solution.

he can feel your breaths across his chest, your face nuzzling closer to him. he could move you away, could create a clearer boundary between the two of you. he feels a little selfish when he lets you stay there, deciding to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he pushes you closer. it’s not fair to either of you, he’s not your boyfriend, he shouldn’t be this close to you.

it’s quiet in his room, save for the sound of cars driving down the road and the occasional huff you let out in your sleep. he isn’t tired at all, too lost in his thoughts as he stares up at the ceiling, the warmth of your body taking up all his thoughts. if he could, he would go back in time and stop you from confessing. he would’ve done it himself in the future, he just needed a little more time.

he can’t blame you though. it’s his fault for rejecting you, it’s his fault for thinking that he could make something happen out of this. there’s a small part of his heart that believes that you could like him again. you wouldn’t come back to him for sex every night, right? but the more realistic part of him knows that it could mean anything.

which is why he can’t stop you coming to him when you’re needy. it’s not even just those times, but he doesn’t think he could ever willingly cut you off. he likes spending time with you, and above everything else, you’re his friend.

he just can’t help but wish it could be a little more than that.

you always ask jaehyun to come over if he has the time.

as you both have grown older, it feels like you both have lost more and more time. when you were both college students, it was easy to skip a few classes and go to parties each night. but now as adults, it’s hard to find time for each other. which is why you ask him to go do mundane tasks with you, like buying groceries or trying on clothes.

today it’s going over to eat with him.

before he rejected you, it felt special to be invited to do these kinds of things with him. out of all the people he could’ve asked, he chose you. it didn’t take long for you to realize that, no, jaehyun asking you to spend time with him meant nothing but him being friendly. it’s weird looking back at how much you wanted jaehyun to like you more than a friend.

as you make your way to his apartment, you realize how much time you spent just wishing for something to happen between you two. you wonder if it was something that was ever supposed to happen between you, or maybe if the timing just wasn’t right. you used to find yourself thinking about the what ifs after he had freshly rejected you. but now, you try to focus on what you have.

he’s just your friend, and you’re close to accepting that it’ll probably never be more than that.

when you make it to his apartment, you don’t see him right away. you call out his name, hearing his voice from his kitchen. when you head over, you’re expecting a nice meal laid out for the two of you to eat. instead, you’re greeted by jaehyun standing by the stove, a stupid smile on his face as he greets you.

“so, you invite me over to come and eat.”

he nods, smile growing wider, “yes.”

“but i’m not seeing any food.”

“that’s because you’re gonna help me.”

you stare at him. he starts moving towards you, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. he starts dragging you towards where he was standing. you start whining, “you don’t need my help. you’re a whole grown man who can cook whatever he wants.”

he laughs, “but i need you to be my other chef… what are they called?”

you roll your eyes, “a sous chef?”

“exactly,” he points at you, as if you just solidified his argument, “what if i forget something and i need your help?”

you pat his shoulder, “then you call me while i sit over on the couch.”

he’s about to give up, but he swears there’s a certain look in your eyes that ask him to keep going. that’s how it always feels with you, a certain push-and-pull that you both can’t let go of. your fingers twitch against his shoulder, almost giving you away. he moves to hold your hand, “how about you at least watch me on the side. i just wanna talk to you.”

you almost want to point out his pouty tone, want to laugh at how there’s a frown on his face. but you can’t. he looks a little too sincere, and you don’t want to think too hard about the feelings he doesn’t have for you. you sigh, eventually giving into his words. it’s always like this, jaehyun acting like he can’t go on without you. that’s what got you here in the first place.

he smiles when you approach him, so close that his arm is touching yours. it doesn’t matter how long or how many times he’s had sex with you, to have you close to him like this makes his heart soar.

it’s like this for the whole time you both cook. your hands lightly grazing his, the sweet smile you show him when he does good, the laugh you let out when he messes up. you take over some parts for him without him asking you to. he can’t help let his mind wander, thinking this is how it would be all the time if you two were dating.

he wouldn’t have to beg you to do something with him, you would do it on your own accord. he wouldn’t have to hold back how much he wants to kiss you, he could press as many kisses on your cheeks or lips. he could stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you forcibly kick him off of cooking duty.

instead, he’s standing in front of the food he’s making, probably overcooking it as you point and laugh at him. you even take out your phone to take a picture of him, laughing as you fiddle with your phone. he swats at you, grumbling, “if you posted that on instagram, i am definitely blocking you.”

“you know me so well. i tagged you and everything.”

he chooses not to respond, taking out plates from his cabinet for the both of you. he can see you standing next to him, waiting to plate your food. he quickly decides to plate it for you, trying to hide his pink cheeks as he pushes the plate towards you. when he’s plating his own, you speak up, “wow, what a gentleman!” he can hear the teasing tone you use, “you’re really setting the bar for all men, aren’t you, jaehyun?”

he decides to tease you back, “just trying to show you how much nicer i am than you are. you should post this on instagram, too.”

“nope, letting all my followers know how mean and horrible of a cook you are. i’m ruining your chances of getting with someone.”

he shakes his head in amusement, moving to one of the seats on his small dining table. you follow, sitting right across from him. he messes with his phone a bit before you can hear that it’s connected to his speakers. an unfamiliar tune starts playing as you watch jaehyun’s head bob along to the song.

this is how it always is, eating together, listening to his annoyingly good music taste, and enjoying each other’s presence. the food he cooked is surprisingly good, but you try to denounce it because you did help him along the way. it’s quiet between the two of you, nothing really too important to talk about.

jaehyun notices your fingers tapping along the table to the beat of the song. he smiles, “do you like it? the song?”

you pretend to think about it, “hm... well, it’s good.”

“you’re not gonna secretly shazam it under the table like last time?”

“that was literally a one time thing,” you huff, “i’ll just go and find someone with the exact same music taste as you.”

he smiles to himself, “you know there’s no one else like me.”

you think about his words for a bit. he probably didn’t mean for them to have a double meaning, but you can’t help but find one. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to find someone who could’ve made you as happy as jaehyun does. you wonder if you do ever find someone, if you’d be able to forget jaehyun.

you feel like you’ve become so intertwined in his life that everything might lead back to him.

you eventually nod along to his words, “yeah, there’s no one else like you.”

“you’re kinda an ass for not picking her up yourself.”

jaehyun huffs at johnny’s words. it’s not that he didn’t want to, but you had assured him that you would make it on time. when he brought up your safety, you said that it was taken care of already. jaehyun couldn’t help but wonder who or what could possibly be more safe than him, but he didn’t want to argue.

but now that you’re a little late, he can’t stop himself from worrying. johnny makes it worse, tearing into him, teasing him with every word. jaehyun hasn’t told him about his surfacing feelings for you, but johnny is notoriously nosy, probably knowing the exact day jaehyun thought that he started liking you.

johnny takes one more jab at him, “she would’ve liked you more if you’d been the one who brought her.”

jaehyun’s shoulder bumps into johnny’s, “she already does like me a lot, so there’s no need for all of that.”

johnny shrugs, letting out an if you say so as he sips on his drink. as much as jaehyun wants to deny it, he really wishes he could’ve at least given you a ride. he would’ve immediately ditched johnny if you asked, would’ve been right outside your doorstep as soon as you said you were ready. he wants to tell himself that that’s just what friends do, but there’s something he doesn’t want to admit.

his hands move to pull out his phone, scrolling through your messages from the past hours. he knows he’s made a mistake as soon as he feels johnny’s eyes looking at his screen from over his shoulder. jaehyun makes a jokingly shocked face at johnny to try to distract him, but johnny’s face mirrors his own.

johnny’s about to say something with a teasing smile on his face and jaehyun’s ready to stop him. instead, a ding comes from his phone, calling their attention. it’s a text from you, letting jaehyun know that you’re outside. he sends a text to you, his eyes moving to the entrance as he waits for you to walk in.

and there you are.

your eyes scan the room, looking for both him and johnny. jaehyun can feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you, your face illuminated by the warm lights of the bar. he thinks you look pretty all the time, but now that he’s seeing you like this, he wants to keep it in his memory forever.

you quickly spot them, your face brightening up with a smile as you make your way towards them. you greet the two of them, johnny easily bringing you into a hug. when you turn to jaehyun, you expect the same, but his eyes stay on you for a moment too long. he notices your teasing smile, quickly clearing his throat before wrapping his arms around you.

johnny starts, “always so fashionably late.”

you laugh, “if i don’t come, who else is gonna be the funniest and sexiest person in our friend group?”

johnny moves to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, “i was holding that position just fine before you came.”

you slap his shoulder, a fit of laughter taking over you. jaehyun watches the two of you, quietly laughing at the side. he likes the dynamic the three of you have, always mentally thanking johnny for introducing you to him. he’d endure all of johnny’s teasing for years if it meant to have you laughing at his side.

it stays like this for a while. the three of you drinking together, laughing when johnny tries dragging you closer to the middle of the room to dance. jaehyun can feel his cheeks get hotter, pink from the alcohol and the not-so-visible adoration he holds for you. he tries to quiet his feelings, but when you lean into his side, your warm body pressing against his, he figures he can give up the act a little.

it’s at times like these where jaehyun realizes that he can see the you from before the rejection. it’s a bit selfish for him crave this side of you, the one where you don’t care how much you touch him or how you continue talking into his ear all night. he thinks that if you were both dating, he could lean over and press a kiss to your cheek, watching as you nuzzle into his side.

for now, all he can do is wrap his arm around yours as you both sway side to side. johnny went off to get another drink, promising to be back quickly. jaehyun has this little time to have you all to himself, listening to the loud chattering around him and the bass of the music loud in his ears. your eyes are closed, humming along to the song.

jaehyun could easily whisper into your ear about his feelings. you probably wouldn’t remember either way, but he knows it’s not right. it’s not like he’d want to do it this way, wanting to tell you honestly. but there’s a growing part inside his brain that’s begging him to do something about it. he has you so close now, so why can’t just say that he likes you?

the thoughts dissipate when johnny comes back, smile on his face with three more drinks in hand. johnny quickly notices how your arm is intertwined with jaehyun’s, and jaehyun can physically see the moment johnny comes up with a plan. jaehyun doesn’t bother moving from his spot, though, willing to sacrifice his humility just to have you by his side.

as if jaehyun wasn’t having thoughts of kissing or dating you, the conversation turns back to normal. the three of you chatting, exchanging work gossip and taking drinks from your cups. it’s like every night this happens, it’s a regular routine of talking and him having to fight back his more than friendly thoughts of his friend.

except this time, while johnny’s explaining how he thinks his boss might be having an affair, you cut him off. johnny jokingly scoffs, turning to where you’re looking at. you both squeal, johnny’s hands finding your shoulders, shaking them back and forth. you gasp, “that’s him, right?”

johnny matches your tone, “totally him! i could recognize him from anywhere!”

raising an eyebrow in your direction, jaehyun asks, “and who exactly are we talking about?”

you turn back at him, “that’s jungwoo, someone we knew from college!”

the name sounds familiar to jaehyun. there’s probably been a few times you talked about him during one semester. he’s not sure which one it could be, but there’s a memory of a faint smile on your face while talking about him. it sets a weird feeling in jaehyun’s stomach, and he realizes you look a little too excited at the sight of jungwoo.

jaehyun’s arm is still looped around yours, a small frown on his face, “does everyone and their moms know jungwoo now?”

“he was funny in class and he bought me coffee once,” johnny hums.

you join in, “he is definitely funny and he did good when we worked on a project together.”

jaehyun pointedly glares at johnny when he speaks, but when you speak, he just holds you closer to him. he can see how johnny watches him, being reminded of how he looked like he was planning something earlier. jaehyun sees it now, johnny’s face darkening before he speaks, turning to speak to you, “i think you should go talk to him.”

jaehyun sends a pointed glare at him before looking at you, his eyes widening when he sees the shy smile on your face. you ask, “what if he doesn’t even recognize me?”

“why wouldn’t he? he always looked at you a certain way when you guys talked, he definitely remembers you.”

jaehyun wonders why no one told him more about this “jungwoo” and his apparent more-than-friendly feelings for you? if johnny knows, then does that mean the three of you hung out before without him? how much has jaehyun missed between you and jungwoo? jaehyun silently takes another sip of his drink, his eyes peering over his cup as he watches you get lost in your thoughts.

he thinks you might drop the conversation, but you breath out, “i’ll do it. i’ll go talk to him.”

jaehyun tries his best not to acknowledge the growing jealousy he can feel bubbling up in his throat. he has to bite back a remark that would probably make things worse for himself. he decides to let go of your arm, watching as you easily separate from him. johnny starts hyping you up, giving you encouraging words as jaehyun massages your shoulders.

although jaehyun wishes he could say don’t go over there or i’ll die, he decides to send you a thumbs up before you walk away. his throat burns, and as much as he wants to think it’s from the alcohol, it’s from seeing you walk away from him. you’re walking to someone that isn’t him, sharing your warmth that’s supposed to be jaehyun’s.

he realizes then and there that he shouldn’t be thinking that.

you’re pressed against jaehyun’s bed, his face burying into your neck as he leaves kisses across your skin. you had to tell him to not leave any marks when you feel his teeth nip at your skin, and you could’ve sworn you heard a huff come out of him when you did. he’s practically pinning you down, body barely hovering over yours.

there are days where he gets like this, too desperate to where he doesn’t realize he grips you a little tighter, his voice growing deeper, relieving all of his stress by making you both feel good. you can tell when he gets like this, a quick text of an you up? letting you know what he wants. you’ve grown to learn all his habits.

it does feel a little different today, though. he was quick to greet you, quick to bring you to bed to kiss you. there were no words of how work was hard for him or if he was stressed about something that happened. not that there’s anything wrong with him not saying, but there’s a certain desperation in his movements as his lips trail down your body.

you decide not to ask about it, not wanting to pressure him into talking about something he doesn’t want to talk about. you’re quick to forget about it when he presses a kiss onto your clothed clit. he calls your name, bringing your attention to the heavy gaze he gives you. he murmurs out, “gonna let me see this pretty pussy?”

you nod quickly, lifting your hips up so he can take off your panties. he moves to lay between your thighs, humming when he sees how you’re dripping for him. it’s embarrassing, trying to close your legs. you’re met with his hands keeping them apart, chuckling at the whine you let out.

“didn’t know you could be this wet for me. if i didn’t know any better, i’d think that you need me.”

you let out a small whimper when he traces a finger down your slit, “jaehyun, please, need you to- need you to do something!”

“tell me what you need, pretty. if you don’t tell me, how am i supposed to help?”

“need you, jaehyun! want your fingers, want you to touch me!”

“of course, that’s all i needed to hear.”

you can feel one of his fingers slide into you, your head falling back onto his pillow at the feeling. you clench around his digit, already begging for more, needing him to fill you up. he doesn’t tease you for being so desperate, quickly giving into your pleas as another finger slips inside you. you let out a cry when you feel his thumb circle around your clit.

“such a messy baby, dripping all over my fingers. needed me so bad, right?”

moans of his name tumble out of your lips when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that sends shocks down your spine. your hands are gripping onto the sheets, realizing just how fast you're about to cum. you’re sure he can feel you clench around his digits, especially when you manage to open your eyes and see him looking straight at you.

“gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“fuck, yes! please, wanna cum, need you to let me cum!”

his movements speed up at your words, “go ahead and show me how much you need it.”

you’re quick to fall apart, your orgasm crashing into you. your thighs shut around his hand that’s helping you ride out your orgasm. all you can hear are the sounds you make and the encouragement that jaehyun mumbles out to you. you’re too fucked out to realize that his clean hand intertwines with yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

before you can comment on it, he’s quick to pull away from you, hands moving to undo his pants. you move to try to do it for him, but he swats your hands away with a laugh. after letting you gawk at him for a bit, he takes his boxers off, a whine leaving you at the sight of his leaking cock. he tilts his head at you, “are you gonna let me fill your pretty pussy up?”

“please,” you moan. your legs move to wrap around his waist, bringing his hips flush to yours. his cock ruts against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm. he shushes you when you let out a small gasp, one of his hands soothing the skin of your thigh. you let out a small cry when his tips rubs against your clit, the last of your patience running out.

you can tell it’s getting to him, too. his cheeks and ears are flushed, his eyebrows furrowed as he switches between watching your face and where he’s pressed against you. he bites back a groan when his tip catches at your entrance, trying hard not to push into you right then and there. he puts all his focus on you, “tell me that you want me to fill you up. tell me that you need me to fuck you.”

you whine, your head digging into the pillow. despite his flushed face, there’s a cocky look on his face as he stares down at you. you’re too desperate to try to fight back, losing the battle as you let out a whimper of his name. there’s almost a surprised look in his eyes as he sees you give up this easily, leaning down to give you a quick kiss to your collarbone.

“i know, baby, need you just as bad. gonna fuck you like you need it, okay?”

you whisper out a thank you as he moves to line himself up at your entrance. he slowly slides in, letting out a deep groan as he watches himself sink into you. he fights off his eyes from closing at the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his length. you’re no better, writhing around in the sheets, whimpers of his name escaping you.

once he bottoms out, he lets out a grunt, “missed this pussy so much. so fucking warm, so tight, all for me.” you’re quick to agree, hands trying to reach at his shoulders to bring him closer to you. he gives in easily, huffing at how he can feel himself deeper inside you at the new position. he kisses the valley of your breasts, sucking lightly.

he starts off slow, teasing you as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. if you can listen past your own moans and whimpers, you can hear the quiet curses and sounds he lets out, trying to hide how much you’re affecting him. when your nails claw at his back, he breaks, “didn’t even mean to call you this late, i just needed you so bad.”

his words get to you, the fact that he wanted to call you because he was needy makes you clench around him. he can’t help but pick up the pace of his thrusts at the feeling, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. you don’t know what has him so worked up, but if he’s going to make you feel this good, you might have to figure it out.

you need just a little more, your hand trailing down your body to get to your clit. you moan in relief when your fingers circle your clit, clenching tightly around jaehyun’s length. it has his hips stuttering slightly, eyes making their way to your hand. he’s quick to push your hand away to replace it with his own, thumb making tight circles around the nub.

he move up to whisper into your ear, “only i can make you feel this good, right? i know you better than anyone else, even yourself.”

you shake your head at his words, but your hips roll up into his, trying to fit more of him inside you. he chuckles lowly at the sight, a small smile on his face as he watches you. he’s slamming into you now, any patience he had now gone as he nears the edge. he starts, “no? trust me, pretty. i know just how you like to be touched, how you liked to be fucked. i know you so well that i just know that you’re close to cumming.”

tears prick your eyes, because yes, you are close to cumming. you can’t help it, not when he’s fucking you like this. he’s not usually this talkative, choosing rather to focus on getting away from any stresses. but now, he’s letting you in on his thoughts, letting you know what could possibly be nagging at him. you’ll save it for another time.

you’re surrounded by all of him, chest touching his as his warm breath hits your neck. you used to wish for him to kiss you during moments like these, moments where you’re both so close, adrenaline too high. now, all you can do is whine out his name, begging for him to let you cum.

it’s easy for you to let go of any past emotions you had for him, but for jaehyun, he wishes he could kiss you. he wishes that you could want him again, wishes that he didn’t have to fuck you like this. this is what he wanted, though. he just didn’t think it would be this hard. he tries to ignore it by groaning into your ear, “gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please! you make me feel so good!”

“yeah? show me then, pretty girl. show me how i’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

at the sound of his voice, you cum. your chest arches up into his, nails digging into his back as you let go. he’s moaning at the feeling, his hips stuttering as he tries to fuck into your tight pussy. he has to bite down onto your shoulder at the feeling, holding back just how bad he wants to cum inside you.

when you start whining, he’s quick to pull out of your heat, quickly jerking himself off to the sight of how fucked out you look. with a moan of your name, his cum shoots out over your stomach, his cheeks a pretty pink as he does.

it’s quiet in his room, save for the deep breaths you both let out. he’s just staring down at you, saving the image of you covered in his cum in his mind. you don’t mind, too tired to notice the slight adoration in his eyes as he stares. it is embarrassing though, covering your face with your arm as you tell him to move.

he blinks away his thoughts, chuckling at your embarrassment. he pats your thigh, moving away as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. he’s being careful with you, his movements slow as the towel moves around your body. there’s a soft look in his eyes, a lazy smile on his face as he indirectly touches you. he’s quick to throw the towel into his laundry basket, even quicker to join you in bed.

in a motion that almost seems too soft for the fact that he just fucked you into his sheets, he pulls your back into his chest. one of his hands makes it to your side, letting it sit there. his breaths are evening out, fanning across your shoulder that he nuzzles into. his touches are hesitant against your skin, almost as if he was debating on whether or not he could touch you like this.

you almost want to push his hand away or try to make some space between the two of you. friends should not be holding each other like this, friends should not be letting each other bask in the warmth of their bodies. friends shouldn’t even be having sex, not like this.

but you figure just this once, you’ll let yourself have this moment. it’s a bit selfish, getting to have jaehyun like this. you wished he’d hold you like this every single time. you think if he did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from falling back in love with him. there’s no way for you to win when it comes to jaehyun.

as he presses a kiss and murmurs a goodnight into your shoulder, you make a promise to yourself: you won’t ever lose yourself over jaehyun again.

jaehyun realizes how little time he’s been spending with you recently.

he’s been hearing more about this jungwoo guy. you’ve told him can’t hang out, i’m with jungwoo right now or i’ll be hanging out with jungwoo later. you’ve been so busy catching up with jungwoo that jaehyun hasn’t had the time to talk to you. no more eating or shopping together, not when jungwoo’s around.

jaehyun doesn’t want to say he’s necessarily jealous of the relationship you two share, but can’t say it doesn’t sit right with him. jaehyun is still your friend after all, and he doesn’t like hearing you talk so much about him. during the small chances jaehyun gets to talk to you, you always slip in one mention about jungwoo.

what about jaehyun? what does jungwoo have that he doesn’t? he could totally treat and touch you better than jungwoo ever could. he practically does already. he can’t help but let these little thoughts enter his mind. if jungwoo’s in the way, how is jaehyun supposed to show you how much he likes you?

it’s one day that you’re both splayed across his couch, your legs resting over his as his thumb smoothes across the skin of your thigh when jungwoo is brought up again. out of the corner of his eye, he can see you smile and lightly laugh at your phone. jaehyun, being the nosy person that he is, can’t help but try to reach over to see what you’re laughing at.

you’re quick to push him away, chuckling at the sight of the small pout on his face. he tries again, and you decide it’s probably better just to sit beside him instead. you begrudgingly show him your phone, and he squints his eyes so he can read your screen better.

it’s quiet for a few moments before he hums at the texts between you and jungwoo. it’s a conversation funny enough to make you laugh. he tries not to roll his eyes at the cutesy way jungwoo texts, him being clearly interested in you. he doesn’t want to say anything about it though, doesn’t want you to know that jungwoo bothers him for reasons that he shouldn’t be thinking.

“he’s funny,” jaehyun muses, trying to stop the snarky remark he wants to say.

“way funnier than you,” you tease, watching him deflate back to his side of the couch.

“there’s been times where you’ve laughed at my jokes though, like laughed laughed.”

“i was either super drunk or bored out of my mind, so those don’t count.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes at you, deciding to ignore your words, choosing to believe that you think he’s the funniest man ever. he’s been finding himself having little competitions with jungwoo that only he’s a part of. jungwoo is funny? jaehyun is funnier. jungwoo is cute? jaehyun is cute, too, just give him a minute.

jaehyun tries to boil it down to the fact he’s always been competitive, but he knows it’s more than that. in his head, it doesn’t matter what jungwoo does better than jaehyun because right now, you're in his apartment, on his couch, deciding to spend meaningless time with him.

“what have you both been doing? i haven’t seen you at all this week.” he hates how his voice sounds, a little too clingy for his liking, but he hopes you don’t hear it.

“nothing, really. we’ve just been going out to eat or hanging out when we have the time.”

jaehyun figures you both somehow have all the time in the world in order to be hanging out this much. he makes his voice whiny before speaking, “i miss you, please don’t leave me forever.”

you laugh at the sound of his voice, pulling your legs away from him. “you’re acting like me spending time with jungwoo is gonna kill you.”

“what’s killing me is the fact i don’t get to see you that much anymore,” he grumbles.

he notices that you don’t respond right away, and when he goes to look at you, your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a certain look in your eyes. did he say too much? before he can start panicking, you turn towards him, “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“pretend like you miss me when we already spend a lot of time together. you literally called me up the other night.”

jaehyun lets out a breath, “sorry, but you’re still my friend. i do miss you, i’m jealous that jungwoo gets to see you that much.” although he says it jokingly, there’s definitely truth behind his words. it might not mean much to you, but the fact that jungwoo gets to see you in a way that only jaehyun feels like he deserves, it hurts him.

“i’m gonna tell jungwoo you’re being mean to him,” you huff.

“tell him then,” jaehyun slings an arm around your waist, “let him know that he needs to learn how to share.”

“first of all,” you slide his arm off of you, “don’t say it like that because you make it sound like i’m an object. two, i think you might need to learn how to share.”

he hums, “you were mine first.”

“i was never yours,” you grouch, “you made that clear when you rejected me.”

he can tell you’re joking, but he can feel his blood run cold at your words. it’s a reminder to him that the rejection is still clear in your mind, reminding him just how much he hurt you. it will always be a reminder of how he messed up what could've been a good relationship with you if he just had more time.

he can’t blame you for his own mistake. he can’t.

in the best way he can, he puts his hands together and grovels, “please, can you find it in your kind soul to forgive me?”

you scoff, rightfully so, before grabbing your phone to take a picture of him. you’re quiet for a few moments more, jaehyun knowing that you’re about to post the picture on your instagram story for everyone to see, including jungwoo. he doesn’t want to stop you, equal parts of wanting to show off how you’re hanging out with him and a little bit of embarrassment.

you set your phone down, placing your hands on top of his, “you can stop. now i kinda just feel bad for you. you do deserve it, though.”

jaehyun doesn’t move, staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. he can tell you right here, he thinks. he’s thought about what he’d say if he were to confess to you almost too much. he’s practiced his lines before, thinking up the perfect way he’d confess. it almost feels right to do it now, clearing his throat and-

your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from him. he grimaces when you show him the notification. what seems to be jungwoo’s account liking your story, the story that has jaehyun begging for your apology posted on it. you sigh dreamily, “told you he’s funny.”

“not funny when it’s jungwoo.”

“jaehyun!”

you find yourself drinking at jaehyun’s place again.

it’s a slow night, both of you had stressful days. you choose to stay in jaehyun’s kitchen, laughing at unfunny words and pouring more wine for each other as the night rolls on. you didn’t mean to stay over so late, but jaehyun practically begged you to spend some time with him. you were quick to say yes under the guise that all he wanted to do was be with his friend.

before the night went too deep, you texted jungwoo saying that you probably won’t be able to call him tonight. he responds quick, a have fun! and i hope you sleep well :) flashing on your screen. you smile warmly at the messages, but quickly notice jaehyun also staring at them. you push at his shoulders, whining over how he’s invading your privacy.

his cheeks are rosy from the wine, a sly smile on his face as he asks, “how am i not supposed to look when i see you smiling like that.”

“you’re supposed to be a good friend and support me in my times of need!”

he puts his hands up in defense, that annoying smile still looking back at you, “thank you for being so vulnerable around me. and who’s to say i don’t support you in your times of need?”

you hear the double meaning in his words, swatting him away, “hey! you’re actually so gross.”

he just chuckles at your words, enjoying how easily you get embarrassed at his teasing. it’s been happening more often, and jaehyun can’t help but piece together that it might be because of jungwoo. jaehyun feels that you might be slipping away right in front of him, and he can’t really do anything to stop it.

you aren’t completely unaware of jaehyun trying to get you to hang out with him. he’s been sending more texts recently, nothing really important being said. you’re not sure how obvious you’re being with jungwoo, but you’re sure that jaehyun has at least an inkling on how you feel about him. which leads you to believe that jaehyun might be a little jealous.

it was never your intention to make him jealous. that night when you first saw jungwoo again was all unplanned. you never thought you would end up talking to him, never thought you’d like the way he treated you. he was so sweet to you, always trying to take care of your every need when prompted.

it’s bad to compare, but you realize that jaehyun’s only being so nice to you now is because jungwoo’s being nice to you.

that’s not to say that jaehyun was never not nice to you, but you could tell that it’s a different kind of nice when it comes to him. the relationship you have with jaehyun now feels more like a bandaid to cover all of the bad things that have happened, no one bothering to address it. you don’t want to either way, no use in bringing up what shouldn’t be talked about.

even now, as you’re here with him in his kitchen, feeling the cold air from the open window drift in, there’s unspoken words between the two of you. you can hear the music playing from his speakers in the other room, the melody sticking in your head. it’s weird to think that you would’ve never gotten to see jaehyun like this if you didn’t stay with him.

it’s quiet for a few moments, apart from jaehyun humming along to the song that’s playing. it’s dark, his warm lights low as they cover the both of you. it’s nice like this, a little drunk and a little quiet; you don’t have to think about anything you don’t want to. you don’t think before you speak, “i do miss you, too, you know.”

“yeah?”

“you’re still someone i appreciate, even after everything.”

he doesn’t respond, and you think he’s taking in your words. you’re not sure why you didn’t specify ‘friend’ but you know he knows better than to have his hopes up anymore. you see that the tips of his ears are pink, the lazy smile on his face showing that he’s a bit tipsy too. he’s not looking at you, you’re not really sure what he’s thinking-

“i think… i think i love you.”

“what?”

his eyes immediately snap to yours, widening as he realizes what slipped out of his mouth. slightly panicking, he stands up, trying to backtrack, “no, i- look-”

“what did you say?”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it-”

“what does that even mean? you can’t just randomly say you love me and then take it back?”

he chooses not to answer right away, eyes darting all around as he tries to come up with an answer. he can fix this, he can help himself, it’s just… he doesn’t really want to. it’s almost selfish with how he feels a little relief with his confession. “since you’re asking,” he starts, “i… i like you. i’ve liked you for a while now.”

when he looks at you, the anger from before is still there. you’re biting down on your lip, hands balled at your sides as his words hit you. “jaehyun… do you know how wrong that is? since when? after you rejected me?”

“no, i- fine. yes, after i rejected you. i know it’s wrong and i know i shouldn’t but it clicked for me, even if it was a little late.”

“a little late? jaehyun, you’re telling me this after you know i’m talking to someone. you knew that there’d be a high chance that i wouldn’t feel the same. i know you’re not that dumb.”

“but that’s how you felt when you asked me out? even if there was a chance that i would say no to you, you still did it, right? that’s exactly how i feel, how bad would it be if i tried?”

a shocked laugh leaves you, “that isn’t fair! you’re not being fair! you’re not thinking about how i would feel knowing this!”

you think he knows that it’s not the same between you and him. you confessed because you genuinely thought you had a chance with him. jaehyun’s only confessing because you’re talking to jungwoo.

“i should’ve never let this happen! fuck, i knew if i kept talking to you, something bad would happen.”

he scoffs, wanting to call out your bluff. “i never forced you to come over and talk. you weren’t forced to come over and have sex with me. you could’ve stopped this at any time, but you kept coming back to me.”

you let out an exasperated sound, “we were friends, jaehyun. friends hang out and talk, that’s literally all we were doing.”

he snaps, “friends don’t fuck. friends don’t hold each other after sex. you can’t say that you didn’t feel anything between us. that’s the whole reason i called you for sex the other day, i needed you."

you can hear how loud your heart is pounding in your chest. your head hurts already, the faint song playing in the other room only adding to the pain. there’s nothing more that you want to do than just go home. you wish you could’ve been more clear, you wished you would’ve drawn a clearer line between the two of you. now you’re stuck like this.

you sigh out, mumbling into the quiet air, “if i had known that you were gonna be like this, i would’ve made sure to end whatever we had as soon as possible.”

“if you never met jungwoo, then this probably never would’ve happened. i could’ve asked you out the normal way, but you kind of forced me into drunkenly confessing to you.”

you send a glare straight at him, “do not assume how i would feel in any situation. the fact that you didn’t even want to tell me that you liked me says everything i need to know.”

“how was i supposed to tell the girl i rejected that i like her now?”

“exactly! don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

he shrugs, closing himself off before you can start up again. you know how he gets, pretending that none of this really matters to him. it’s childish, and you know he knows it. you don’t know what else to do. if he can’t sort himself out, there’s no reason for you to be here anymore.

you’re quick to get up and out of the kitchen. he doesn’t look at you at first, but as soon as he hears you pack your stuff into your bag and your car keys in hands, he follows right after you. there’s a startled look on his face, you can tell that he didn’t think you would leave him. you watch as he raises a hand to stop you, but quickly puts it down after some thought.

you let out a breath, “i’m leaving. you can decide if you want to pull yourself together and grow up if you wanna talk. if not, don’t even bother texting me.”

he doesn’t try to argue, watching as you walk out his door. he can’t feel anything, doesn’t really want to do anything other than lay in bed. he walks over to his bedroom, the sound of a familiar slow song getting louder as he walks closer. he makes it inside, pausing the song before laying down onto his back. it’s quiet again.

he just ruined everything.

for the first time in a while, your life feels kinda normal.

there’s not a lot for you to worry about if you ignore a few things. work is fine, your friends are celebrating your freedom, and jungwoo comforts you in every way possible. you realize that jungwoo might’ve been everything you’ve been looking for in a person. he stays close when you need him and gives you space when you ask.

you tell jungwoo that you’re happy to have him right now. you tell him that you’re sorry for acting a little weird recently (he quickly denies your claim). you don’t tell him exactly what happened with jaehyun, but you can assume he at least knows a little. he doesn’t try to pry it out of you, choosing not to remind you of something you don’t want to think of.

and you’re not thinking about it. you haven’t gotten any texts from jaehyun, so why should you care?

as much as you don’t want to admit it, it does feel weird not having jaehyun in your life. you didn’t realize how much you thought about him or how much time was dedicated to being with him. it didn’t seem to matter at first because you thought it was because you both were friends, but you realize he was kind of stringing you along.

there’s a lot of time you have to yourself now. you don’t have to worry about jaehyun calling you randomly throughout the day or one of his spontaneous meetups. you don’t have to think about his you up? texts during the late hours of the night. you don’t have to think about any hurt he’s caused you in the past. none of it will mean anything anymore.

until you get a call from johnny.

“hey, johnny. what’s up?”

he skips right past your greeting, “why doesn’t jaehyun want to hang out with you?”

you’re shocked for multiple reasons. one, of course, johnny already knows your business. two, how dare jaehyun say he doesn’t want to hang out with you. you scoff, “what exactly did he say?”

“he said he was busy, but, like i know he’s not gonna be busy. and that obviously means that something is going on between you two.”

you want to scream into your phone’s microphone. jaehyun doesn’t deserve to set the boundary between you two. he was the one who messed it up in the first place, so why is he the one trying to put distance between you two? “johnny,” you start, “do you promise not to tell anyone about what i’m about to tell you? you can’t even tell jaehyun.”

he lets out a little shocked sound and you can imagine him sitting up straight. he whispers into the call, “what is it?”

“the other night, jaehyun told me he likes me. actually, in his own words, he said he thinks he loves me.”

he gasps loudly into the phone, “what? are you sure? like jaehyun said that? jaehyun?”

“exactly! it doesn’t even seem like something he’d do! he said it was because we were both drinking.”

“that doesn’t even matter,” johnny sighs, “you don’t go around saying that to your friend, especially not the friend you rejected before.”

“you get it! that’s literally what i told him! i need to sit down with you so we can discuss this.”

it’s quiet on the other side of the call, and by his silence, you can tell he’s planning something. it’s never good when he does, so you try to call out his name before he can think any more, but you’re too late.

“i think you should sit down with him to talk about what happened.”

you sarcastically laugh, “he hasn’t even texted me, there’s no way i’m talking to him first.”

“i didn’t say you should text him first, i’m just saying that you both should talk. you can’t just leave this off on bad terms.”

“and if i want to?”

“i know you don’t. plus, it feels like i’m a child whose parents are going through divorce, so you need to fix this.”

you whine into the phone, which causes johnny to laugh on the other end. he’s right, you don’t want this to end badly with jaehyun. even if you both decide to never talk again, you don’t want to have a strained relationship with him. after a few moments, you answer him, “fine, but don’t have your hopes up because even i don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“okay, perfect, because i already kinda convinced jaehyun to meet up with you.”

“johnny!”

he defends himself, “like i said, i’m basically seeing you guys go through a divorce. please bring my family back together.”

“whatever, do what you want to do.” johnny cheers from the other end of the call, quickly letting out an you won’t be disappointed! before he hangs up, not even letting you say goodbye. as much as you try to hide it, a part of you is happy at the thought of jaehyun wanting to work things out with you.

even if you don’t know what you want just yet, you’ll get yourself ready.

you realize you’re no longer happy when a few days later, jaehyun shows up to your front doorstep, a frown painted on his face.

you almost want to slam the door on him when he speaks. his voice is quiet, “why did you tell johnny you didn’t want to hang out with me?”

as soon as he stops talking, it all clicks in your head. johnny tricked you both. you’ll have to get mad at him later, but for right now, you have to deal with jaehyun who’s pretending he didn’t just ignore you for almost two weeks. you reluctantly let him in, watching as he walks in almost too normally.

no one bothers talking, no one trying to make the first move. you’re staring him down and he tries to ignore the hard stare you’re giving him. while you’re glaring at him, you can see how he looks more tired than usual. the faint lines under his eyes give it away, and when he does finally make eye contact with you, it’s soft, no anger behind his eyes.

you step back, breathing in before speaking, “let’s go talk in my room.”

he sends you a soft smile, not needing you to guide him to your room. he knows the whole layout by now, feeling more like he’s leading you to your own room. he opens the door for you, choosing to let you walk in first. it’s awkward when you have to motion for him to step in, watching him not really knowing what to do.

you move to sit on your bed, and he moves to sit at your desk. it’s not as awkward as it is tense. you don’t know what to say, you didn’t plan on him coming over. his eyes are darting across your room, his eyebrows furrowed as he presumably tries to start the conversation.

“how are you doing?”

you roll your eyes at the simple question, “i’ve been doing fine. i feel like my life’s been a lot calmer since that day.”

he leans forward in his seat, “really? i feel like i’ve lost ten years of my life.”

deserved, you think. you gather all your thoughts before speaking, “i think the days that i spent without thinking about you really changed how i feel. i realized just how much i was entangled in your life. it wasn’t good for me.”

he looks off to the side, taking in your words. you see the hurt that settles in his face, you see how it’s going to be burned into his memory. he smacks his lips, “i think for me it’s the opposite. i realized during this time without you really solidified my feelings. i can’t lie and say that my feelings have changed, because they haven’t.”

you feel anger bubbling up inside you, but you can’t do that today. you take a few breaths, calming yourself down as you focus on what you’re most curious about, “why did you start liking me?”

“i don’t even know. i know it’s shitty of me to realize how much you mean to me after i said no to your confession. i understand why you said no to me.”

“i’m sorry for getting mad so quickly. it was just so out of the blue, i never would’ve expected you to say that.”

you pat the spot on your bed next to you, calling his name softly. he slowly moves to your side, his eyes focused on his hands splayed across his knees. after all this time without you, he wishes he could hold your hand in his, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. it’s been too long without your touch. you took away the only thing that kept him close to you.

“can i ask something?”

he nods, putting all of his focus on you. it feels intense when he does, you haven’t had him this close in a long time. you clear your throat, “this wasn’t all because of jungwoo, right?”

he sighs, his jaw clenching as he thinks of the right words to say. he’s deep in thought, and you almost want to tell him to drop it all together. he decides to speak up, “honestly? seeing you both together kind of made me realize my feelings. i was losing you to him, and i really couldn’t handle it. i’m not trying to ruin whatever you have going on with him, i promise.”

you don’t know what else to say. so much of this could've been prevented if you kept an eye out for yourself. you also wouldn’t want to go back and change what you’ve done. you don’t regret ever being jaehyun’s friend, you don’t regret all the memories you’ve made with him.

“so, this… this is really over then?”

you shrug, “i would think so.”

it’s quiet for a few moments, the both of you letting the thought seep in. “this” has never been defined between the two of you, but you can assume it’s almost everything you do together. what you’re feeling now is close to how you felt when he first rejected you. what’s different now is that you can’t help but feel just a little relieved, ending something that probably should’ve never happened.

in another world, you think you would’ve reciprocated jaehyun’s feelings. it would’ve been easy, pieces easily falling into place as you both fall for each other. it’s almost as if it were supposed to be something that was natural. but jaehyun had given the time for you to move on, and you did. it was too late for him to realize his own feelings.

“we can still be friends if you can handle that.”

he laughs incredulously, “if i can handle that? i’m a grown man, thank you very much.”

“yeah? well i think if i were you, i wouldn’t be able to hold back my feelings,” you tease.

he grumbles, “too soon, you’re too mean.”

jaehyun watches a pretty smile adorn your face, and if it weren’t for the current circumstances, he would tell you how pretty you look. he keeps the thought to himself though, opting to ask, “how about one last drink together as friends who are a little more than friends?”

you hum, pretending to think about it. you watch worry wash over his face, and you do feel bad a little bit. “one more time, just for your sake. you look like you might start crying.”

he groans as you walk away to get some wine for the both of you. you’re by yourself for a few moments as you pour the drinks. you feel awkward in here by yourself, left with thoughts and memories of all the things you’ve done together. all the times you’ve had sex, all the times where he’s felt like your boyfriend, but none of it holds to him being your friend.

you don’t know if you can continue being friends with him.

it would be unfair to jungwoo. you haven’t told him the exact dynamics of how your friendship with jaehyun worked, but you can assume he knows most of it.

you return to the sight of jaehyun looking around your room. he’s been in here too many times to count, and yet seeing him here now, it’s weird. he feels out of place, he feels almost like a stranger in your own apartment. despite the history you have with him, it seemed to fall apart so easily as soon as conflict hit.

he thanks you quietly when you hand him the glass. you take a small sip of your drink, watching jaehyun do the same from the corner of your eye. after the drink, he chooses to speak, “so how are you and jungwoo?’

“that’s how you want to start our small talk?” you splutter out.

“i mean, can i not be interested in my friends' love life?”

well it’s hard when you were directly involved in it. you shrug, taking another small sip before speaking, “i’m… really happy that i’m talking to him. he takes care of me, he’s always asking how i’m doing. it’s nice being with him.”

you can tell jaehyun is trying not to let your words affect him, “are you both… officially dating yet?”

his words make you shy, your facing feeling hot at the idea of dating jungwoo. brushing off his words, you laugh, “no! not yet, at least. i think i’d say yes if he asked me out.”

he nods, his head hanging heavy, hand twirling the wine in his glass. you know what he’s thinking, you don’t need to ask him. you can’t be his, you won’t ever be his. you think that this was never supposed to work out, no matter how hard you tried or how much you think he could’ve loved you. he wasn’t meant for you.

“okay, one more thing.”

he nods, turning his attention back on you.

“did you really mean it back then, like, when you said that you weren’t ready for a relationship?”

“yes, i was scared. i think back then, even though i didn’t realize it, i also had feelings for you. but it was… it just wasn’t the right time for me. even though i liked spending so much time with you, there were things i wanted to figure out first.”

you cock your head to the side, “like?”

he hums in thought for a bit, trying to remember times from so long ago. thinking back, you remember how you felt old, you felt like you were already an adult. but he’s right, there were still things you didn’t know about yourself, and you wonder if dating jaehyun would’ve stopped you from figuring them out.

“i guess… mostly wanting to decide what i wanted to do with my life. now that i’ve somewhat settled, i feel more confident in what i want. even though it came at the worst time, i was so sure that i could see you in my future.”

the confession doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. you can relate to how he feels. for the longest time, you felt that you needed jaehyun in your life. it wasn’t until after he confessed to you that you saw that there’s more to your life than him. you’re thankful for all the time you’ve had with him, but there’s still so much more for you to do.

it’s like this for a few more hours, the sunset bleeding into the night time. you both have a few more drinks, jaehyun eventually turns on music playing on his phone. you feel a lot better now. you only want the best for jaehyun, and you think that this is the best for the both of you.

jaehyun has to leave at some point, one of the last buses back to his place coming soon. you don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave the comfort of your bedroom. there’s a small part of you that’s scared that you’ll never see him here again. you try to remind him that this is what you both need, clear, distinct boundaries.

you walk him to your door, “you’ll text me once you're at your apartment, right?”

he shuffles over, “yeah, i will. johnny will make sure i get there safe.”

you nod, opening the door for him. he walks out, watching you with an unsure look on his face. a part of you wants to let him in, wants to let him give you one last kiss. it’s wrong, your grip on your door getting tighter at the thought. he still has a strong pull on you, your hand wanting to reach for his.

it’s not meant to be.

“goodnight, jaehyun. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“alright, goodnight. i… i’ll be here if you ever need me. i’ll wait.”

you smile, “i know. thank you, get back safe.”

he nods, waving you off before he walks away. you close the door, locking it behind you. it’s quiet now, no soft conversations, no laughing, just the sound of your feet pattering on the floor.

you don’t really feel like crying. you don’t feel like there’s something missing inside you. jaehyun used to be a big part of you, but as time went on, he took up less and less space.

there’s more important things to worry about than someone who couldn’t make time for you. you have time to figure things out now, you have time to figure out what you really want, whether that’s jungwoo or someone else.

you’ve never felt better.

as jaehyun scrolls through instagram, he sees a post from you. it’s been a while since he’s seen you in person, so he’ll take anything he can get. the first few photos are of you, and the next few are pictures of things he assumes you found pretty. the last photo is what makes him pause, a photo of what he can only assume is jungwoo holding your hand.

he checks the comments, some of your friends replying with different emojis, all to tease you with. they all seem to know about your budding relationship with jungwoo. jaehyun’s glad that it’s going well for the both of you. it’s what you deserve after what he put you through.

he hung out with you and johnny the other day. as much as everyone tried to be normal, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he changed the dynamics of your friendship. you and johnny were the same, easily laughing and joking around with each other. it’s not exactly awkward when you and jaehyun talk, but the air around you is certainly different.

it’s what should’ve happened, at the start of it all you both should’ve set rules. jaehyun realizes that he would’ve never gotten to see you in the ways he did. warm lights from his kitchen painting over your skin, or when the light from the moon would shine over your body while he holds you close. he wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

you were all he had, and losing you is something he will always regret. he knows that you’re doing good now, not just with jungwoo. he doesn’t want to come in and ruin what you’ve built up. it doesn’t matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss you, you’re better off without him.

he just wishes he had more time.

a/n: hey people... what did we think of this ending... jaehyun is my friend i do not hate him i like him... anyways i hoped u like this... it took longer than i thought it would but im glad its out HOORAYYY

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @jaehyunful @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @diorcities @hrts4doie @ohmytyong @ecvm5236 @faeryus @riri4andy @rjtulips @missesgirl @shiorebirth @sugaringgcaramel @camomillie @ninicornposts @il02isa @sincerelyneo @perfumejamal @justhgiwo @lovingyoulovinme2 @babyriannie @eunseoksimp @jeonreal @mawnehkah @shoetaroshoe (thank u all omg 🫂❤️)

#nct smut #nct fic #nct 127 smut #nct jaehyun smut #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios

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mayasikeu · 2 months

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Phone sex with jake

Just imagining that it's your ovulation week and your hormones are going crazy to the point where you can’t think about anything else other than sex

It was at the end of your ovulation week when Jake had just arrived in LA for kcon and he facetimed you as soon as he got to his hotel. To your disadvantage Jake had been too busy to meet with you all week so you saw this as your only chance. Even though the time difference was big you told him you would stay up waiting for his call. You were desperate. “Hey baby I miss you so much, I wish you could be here with me”

“Me too, it’s so boring without you here”. The whole week just consisted of you fingering yourself imagining it was Jake’s hand. But your small dainty fingers could never compare to Jake’s. He could literally make you cum multiple times with just his fingers alone.

When he would finger you it would send you into another universe, like your mind would go completely numb. He would shower you with dirty praises that would make your head spin. Jake always wore rings when he fingered you because he knew how much you loved the feeling. The cold metal from the rings on his long fingers brushed against your clit as he aggressively pumped them in and out of you. Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body to the point where you wouldn’t be able to speak properly.

After a while of you and Jake just chatting, your mind couldn’t help but notice how you could see the shape of his cock through his grey sweatpants. You felt so guilty and pervy for noticing that while you both were just having an innocent conversation over the phone but you couldn’t help it. Jake would have been considered an idiot to not have noticed the way you kept looking down at his cock. He would shift in his seat manspreading as leaned back giving you a better view of his lower body.

“You look so sexy right now, why don’t you stand up and twirl for me” You purposely wore his favourite lingerie pyjama set because you knew how much it turned him on seeing you in it. The laced shorts barely covering your ass cheeks and your nipples being clearly visible since you had no bra. “You wore that for me didn’t you?”. You nodded in response. At this point you couldn’t care less about how pathetic you seemed. “Has my baby been that needy without me?” he cooed

“Yes, I need you so bad Jake” you begged him, your eyes filled with desperation and need. Jake loved seeing you like this.

“Now be a good girl and strip for me”. You immediately obeyed him and took off your pyjamas slowly, wanting to tease him. Jake bit his lip enjoying the view of you stripping as he adjusted in his seat again due to his growing boner. “Show me that pretty pussy baby”

You positioned the camera to your lower body giving him a perfect view of that area as you slowly took off your underwear. “Fuck baby” he moaned out as he began to rub his bulge.

“Play with it for me” he demanded, which again you immediately obeyed. You slowly began rubbing yourself in the room that was filled with sounds of your wetness and quiet moans. Jake pulled his pants down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers, the ones you loved. You could see how big his cock was and when he pulled it out the tip was overflowing with precum. He slowly started fisting his cock, moaning with each pump. “Fuck, i wish it was your pussy instead of my hand” he groaned as he leaned back again trying to get more comfortable.

“I’m gonna cum Jake” you whimpered as you began rocking your hips to the sight of him fisting his cock while he told you all the dirty things he’s going to do to you when he gets home. “You can’t cum yet princess” he wanted to edge you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “You're gonna cum for me when I tell you to, understood?”

“Answer me”

“Yes” you could barely speak

“Good girl”

You and Jake were both panting as you both were getting closer and closer. “I’m gonna cum fuck” Jake said. “Cum for me now princess, you can do it” the pet name making you immediately cum without warning. Jake followed you as he came all over his hand, his strokes becoming slower.

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hellsresidentfallenangel · 7 months

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Familiar Faces

Summary: How would Adam and Lute react to seeing a Fallen Angel back in Heaven?

A/N: I know we technically already saw this when Charlie and Vaggie came up to Heaven but this time I want to do it with someone who may have meant a bit more to the both of them.

When Charlie first told you she wanted you to come to Heaven with her you outright laughed in her face. You, a known Fallen Angel, go to Heaven? The idea was just as laughable as it was dumb.

Then Charlie actually took you to Heaven. In the few seconds you thought it was wise to laugh at Vaggie's dismay of being pushed into the weird swirly portal, a tight hand had wrapped itself around your upper arm. With a harsh tug, you were suffering the same fate as Vaggie.

Just like you had many years ago, you were faced with the bright colours of Heaven.

Fortunately, you weren't left alone with Charlie and Vaggie for long as two of the Seraphims came to join you, leading you around Heaven. Of course, in these moments Charlie could hardly contain herself, ready to rush off to explore or point out something that you and Vaggie had seen countless times.

All in all, it was rather peaceful being back in Heaven. Seeing some of the old buildings or community areas that you had spent so many years in was almost refreshing; given the harsh contrast that Hell was compared to all this. You didn't outwardly express any of this though. Keeping your arms crossed or firmly placed on your hips.

But with Heaven's dwindled population, it wasn't hard to run into people you knew. So when the familiar colour pallet of gold, white, grey and black showed up in the corner of your vision, you couldn't help but try and nestle your way in between Charlie and Vaggie to try and slip past their vision.

Alas, your efforts were for nothing.

With a booming voice, Adam yelled to get your attention as well as everyone around you. What you would've done to be in Vaggie's place and simply ignored with nothing but else but a shifty side glance.

"If it isn't my favourite ex-angel!"

Even though all the attention was on you, you couldn't help but try and slip away from the limelight. With a quick hand though, you were pulled into Adam's side in a tight sidehug.

It would only be when you're tightly tapped at Adam's side, his nails digging into your arm while Lute flocked to your other side, staring over at you with a carefully blank expression that Adam would hiss into your ear. "Who let you back in here?"

"Wait, you two know each other?" Charlie would exclaim, her eyes widening slightly with a glimmer of hope residing in them as a plan to get Adam and Lute on the Hazbin Hotel's side came to mind.

It was only when she noticed your deadpan stare, the way Adam's hand may have been gripped a little too tightly around your arm and how Lute seemed to be itching to get closer that perhaps she might have misjudged the relationship you had with the two prior to your fall.

Sera would have to cast Adam a raised brow for the guy to release you, no amount of struggling or shoving on your part goading him to release you.

That wouldn't be the end of it though. Like any good 'friends' seeing someone who had been cast out of Heaven in favour of rotting in Hell, Adam and Lute decide that there is no better way to spend their afternoon other than to follow you, Vaggie and the Princess of Hell around as you attend to business.

On numerous occasions, Adam would try to tug you in one direction or the other, prepared to run off with you whenever everyone's back was either turned on you or was preoccupied with something for the moment.

Each time ended in small little scruffles as you tried to push yourself away from Adam, not above trying to fight the First Man on Holy ground even if it meant being shot out of the sky again.

If he wasn't trying to steal you away from the group, Adam was making loud jokes, sometimes making you the butt of the joke while other times it was someone else. Normally it would be Vaggie but it was more likely you who he was laughing at. Recapping your graceful fall from Heaven or any other blunders he could think of.

Lute wasn't much better on her part.

Unlike Adam, whenever one of the Seraphins looked back to check on what was happening or Charalie and Vaggie got ready to jump in, she would be stood patiently waiting for the tour to continue once Adam's antics were dealt with.

—Except that one time she was caught cheering Adam on as he tried smoothing your head into the ground.

It didn’t even matter if the Seraphins or your friends were looking, Lute decided to make your trip to Heaven just as bad as you’d thought it would be by walking too close for comfort, making comments about previous exterminations that you had taken part in, trying to reminisce on activities you had taken up when in Heaven to try and kill boredom.

That was something that Hell was surprisingly better than Heaven at. There was never a dull day. Even if there was it would only take you a short commute from your hotel room to find either Angel Dust or Alastor for your boredom to be banished, the both of them entertaining enough in their own ways.

By the end of the little tour Heaven was providing Charlie, you were prepared to scream.

Vaggie did nothing but spare you a pitiful glance. At some point further down the line than you, she had been in the same boat, though now she was just glad it wasn’t her that had to deal with the antics of Adam and Lute.

So putting on a brace face, you reminded yourself it was only for the day, maybe only a few more hours. Before you knew it you would be back at the hotel and hiding away in your room, reading to stay there for the rest of the day and only crawl out when an essential was needed.

When that time finally came you pushed past any of the sinners who tried to greet you with a flash of your middle finger as you vanished from their sights, all of them turning to Charlie and Vaggie to find out what had happened.

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ninamodaffari · 3 months

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okay you guys got me started on dishonored (the series) fucking IMMACULATE art direction. I'm going to try and sum it up but I'm honestly better with art than words so I'll try my best.

dishonored is fucking unparaelled when it comes to art direction. from when you first start the game, each level has a distinct style, color, and vibe. dunwall is dominated by cool greys, towering, imposing structures like dark sentinels watching over the land. twisting, rotting trees and an ever-present smog that overtakes the city. dunwall is inky blue darkness.

HOWEVER, from a gameplay perspective, there are visual points of interest still that stops you from getting lost in a wash of blue. dishonored is a master of using lighting and color to lead you to areas that it wants you to go.

for example, in the corner of a window you might see glowing purple lighting. these are void shrines - where the outsider will appear and share knowledge harass you. usually around shrines there are walls of writing, strange twisted words that lead you further into the mystique surrounding what the outsider is and what he *does*.

you might think the game is just awash in dull colors, but its not. one of the most beautiful and striking levels takes place in lady boyle's mansion, and it's INSANE how different it looks, because it's supposed to be a stark contrast. surrounding her mansion are the remains of a dying city destroyed by a plague. within her mansion, however, is decadence and debauchery gone awry.

it's amazing with a game that was made TWELVE YEARS AGO how this still holds up and looks fantastic. this is because they went for a stylized art direction. it's stylized, almost painterly. it looks fantastic. here is some of the amazing character design

(this is from dishonored 2, done by Sergey Kolesov )

LOOK AT THIS ART. IT'S SO FREAKING AMAZING AND THE THING IS THE CHARACTERS LOOK SO CLOSE TO T HIS IN GAME. its a masterpiece. if you haven't played dishonored, please play it. all of them.

#i could go on forever #dishonored #dishonored is fantastic #gorgeous #amazing

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vasyandii · 4 months

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💡RAM & CAM⚒️

Included are my headcanons of AM's Older Brothers, and some explanations of their designs! (I took big inspo with CAM's design from @kibutsulove so please go check out their design as well!) Yes this pertains to VernonAM, No I can't shut up about them.

RAM (Yaroslav Machavariani)

Physically 53, around 6' (182 cm) in height.

Greying hairs, scaring around the cheek area.

Colour palette is blue leaning.

His Emblem is Я (Ya) for the Russian word "I", "I am"

RAM can speak with his mouth, however, his hearing is subdued (Think "Hear No Evil")

Because he can't hear that well in his physical form, he's extremely loud. To the point his jaw almost fell off, hence the scarring.

Perpetual smirk, as if he is scheming something.

Despite his looks, he is not the oldest Mastercomputer.

"MY LITTLE BROTHER FINALLY GOT A GIRLFRIEND!! THANK GOD, I WOULD BE SO EMBARRASSED TO BE RELATED TO A LOSER!"

CAM (Shengli "Samson" Min)

Physically age ambiguous (55), 5'10 (178 cm), still taller than Yankee AM

Monolids/Epicanthic folds, mole near nose

Colour palette is red leaning

His Emblem is 是 (Shi) as in 我是 (Wo Shi); "I am."

CAM is unable to use his mouth to speak, often having difficulty with his mechanical jaw. (Think "Speak No Evil")

He relies on his omnipresence or hand gestures to convey his messages. His hearing is extremely good, unfortunately.

Extremely observant. Sick of AM and RAM's shit, still gets them out of trouble.

The oldest brother, he's so tired, let him take a nap. Please.

"Look at her. Am I crazy, she doesn't look well adjusted. She- she's trying to eat the slug. Okay. Fun. Happy for you two. Fucking freaks."

((their mechanical designs totally aren't political/government commentary COUGH COUGH, if you don't see me in 5 days assume I've been killed and replaced by a body double))

#ihnmaims #ram ihnmaims #cam ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #russian allied mastercomputer #chinese allied mastercomputer #allied mastercomputer #i have no mouth and i must scream #digital art #artwork #original character #art #concept art

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still-a-morosexual-help · 1 year

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honestly tho om lucifer is such a comfort character

you know mammon's my all time all around favourite no contest but like

lucifer just hits different

he's so tired and he's so overworked and he loves his family so much it makes me sick he's willing to kill and die for them at any chance he made the misfits of the celestial realm his family despite being the perfect example of an angel himself he thinks his brothers are adorable he just wants them to have one quiet day

he's such a bastard he's arrogant and prideful and he'll willingly meow like a little kitty cat because his boybestfriend is sad

he's got daddy issues he's terrified he's traumatised his greatest fear is his father he spent years fighting a pointless war and never questioned his father about whether they ever even tried to find a way to end the war without just mindlessly trying to kill people who really aren't that different from them for a reason no one knows he's willing to be given piggyback rides by another high profile man in a public area

he's a dog person he's weak to puppy dog eyes from everyone he cares about he's constantly done with Mephisto's shit he gets jealous because one of his friends complimented their mutual friend's cookies

he's willing to villainize himself in the eyes of his family to keep them safe he's sadistic his first response to being cornered and scared is to kill anyone who's making him feel that way his love language with his brothers is being a little shit to them he's somehow connected to/the starting point of all the issues/trauma his brothers have he has empty nest syndrome even though all his brothers live at home he hasn't realised the extent to which his actions and words have fucked up his brothers and is constantly surprised and devastated by it when he realises

he has a son he pretends is his brother whom he only ever canonically acknowledged as his son twice which led to huge blowout fights one of his younger brothers bullies him into going to the pub with them once a week his son runs a club with his youngest brother dedicated solely to making his life miserable

he's sadistic he genuinely enjoys seeing people suffer he's so polite he'll allow himself to be poisoned by food he knows is bad he bought dinner for a whole restaurant because it was the owner's birthday he wore a silly outfit and worked at a themed restaurant as a favour for a friend he gets visibly more aroused when he's ordered around he insults his brothers but gets upset whenever an outsider does the same

he loves his human so much and he's so annoyed at them he's so frustrated with them he's so angry at them and he's so worried about them so protective of them so incredibly proud of them he has tried to kill them many many times

he's a borderline alcoholic he's immortal he's greying he gets migraines he forgets to eat and he sleeps at his desk he does the mom thing and orders takeout for his children when he goes out to eat without them he likes dad jokes his greatest wish is to visit a factory he likes good socks he's a grumpy old man

he's over 10 million years old he's an eldritch horror he's the personification of the sin of pride he needs glasses to read his childhood friend? ex-boyfriend? kind-of-brother? old coworker? brother in arms? calls him luci

he's a naggy paranoid perfectionist he removed the entire bathroom because one of his brothers forgot to clean it he had to literally be kidnapped to send him on a vacation he ripped out multiple sets of his own wings he doesn't like being seen shirtless he lectured jason voorhees about him not killing efficiently enough

he's a respected and recognised drag queen he believes love is love he's canonically so beautiful but no one ever makes a move on him because the whole realm thinks he's in a committed long term relationship he refuses to believe his best friend is in love with him despite multiple people saying so

he's the type of person you want to please the type of person you want to make proud the type of person you want on your side because you know no matter what he'll always have your back you're safe that as long as he's there everything will be okay the type of person you want to be held by while everything is falling down around you

he's even queer

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moonsaver · 5 months

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Yandere!Alhaitham, stalking(implied), yandere.

Ahaitham was a stranger to you.

One that was getting overly familiar.

He was just one of your roommates' friend; they often brought him with another blonde man named Kaveh. You admit – you were slightly jealous at how gorgeous they both were. But it wasn't soon before their visits became routine and your curiosity became indifference. A few short words and conversations took place between you four from time to time, and nothing else happened. The resounding laughter of your roommate and Kaveh usually didn't make past your closed door.

Alhaitham's curiosity, however, reared it's head for its own investigation.

Perhaps you want to blame your roommate. They couldn't just not resist bringing them over for one day, especially when the chatty blond was busy and couldn't make it. Conversation between them and Alhaitham proved to be more on the blander side. Alhaitham, at that point, simply tags along to see you.

You, who manages to spark up a conversation in the dead silence over the dining table. Monotone, casual voice engaging in a dialogue with him, as your roommate awkwardly leaves, feeling discluded. You don't think much of it; you end the conversation quietly (to his dismay), and take your leave.

It's not often his mind teeters to a person outside of those who he actively reaches out to. Sightings of you are strange – they make him glance up from his chosen reading from time to time, often trailing your actions as you shuffle around the kitchen, or the living room before leaving quietly through the front door or returning to your own room.

Nowadays, Alhaitham can't help it. Visits become so frequent it's as though the duo have their own copies of keys to your shared space. Verbalizing your grievance regarding this to your roommate proves ineffective – they're stubborn, or really, couldn't care less. Alhaitham however, makes use of this. Asking for permission slowly faded into quiet agreement, as your roommate and Kaveh got closer, Alhaitham simply familiarized himself more with the living room, the kitchen, and the more personal areas of your shared space.

It was uncomfortable when you stumbled upon him sitting alone here and there, in your living room or at the dining tabls, especially staying for long hours; you don't know if your roommate's going to be back – should you send him away? Perhaps they'll return and throw a fit if they find out you've been an unwelcoming host? Or even if you went ahead regardless, would he leave? What would you do if he insists?

Most of the time, your train of thought was interrupted by Alhaitham welcoming himself deeper into the space, often coming face to face with you. He shamelessly seeks you out, chattering on about a topic of a research you once offhandedly complained about to your roomie. He follows you everywhere.

At some point, he starts following you outside of your home.

You stay quiet. Is it too awkward to address? He's probably also just technically headed in the same direction. You leave the house and suddenly he has somewhere to be. The walk to the bus or the metro station is quiet. You try and avoid looking anywhere near his way – eye contact with him is fatal. You see him in the grocery stores you never thought he'd be in, malls or any public spaces where you'd constantly catch glimpses of grey tufts; you were paranoid. And you were unsure.

And perhaps Alhaitham is well aware of this. And perhaps he monopolized it. You don't know your roommate's out on dates with his, and welcoming himself into your space with the key they so generously provided him with is proving to be of much help.

Of course.. you can ignore the part where it was only one copy, that belonged to Kaveh. Making another wasn't out of the question.

And it's not soon before you're dreadful enough to push, push, push against that teetering line of uncertainty, a hesitant and familiar voice finally resounding in the kitchen again as you ask him; don't you have somewhere else to be?

He smiles. So, he closes the book with a soft snap, you finally ask.

He intends on stretching out the following conversation for a while, stealing a glance at the clock – 8:27 PM, he notes. Your roommate's on the other side of town. Kaveh's with them. You're here alone. There's only 2 copies of the key between you two that opens the front door. And as for your luck – your roommate has it.

It's late. Why don't we shift this conversation somewhere else? His gaze is unfeeling. You can't tell how fatally it's probed you.

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ravenslvt · 6 months

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

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seungrem · 5 months

Text

lee felix x m!reader

‘Work Husband’ ~*+

summary: Transitioning into a new department can be tough. Luckily, male!reader’s new boss pairs him and Felix together- the two almost immediately having great chemistry. Work-relationships almost always develop into something more, right?

( overview: office AU, soft-top!felix since u guys want it so bad, bottom!reader, smut obviously, protection and all of that, bj + anal, discreet/hidden but in office )

emoji theme:

🪐 ( office AU )

+❄️ ( +18, mdni )

🌱 ( short fic, oneshot - barely 1k words )

☁️ ( = y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Welcome. It’s a pleasure to have you join us here.. and I’m sorry about your former office.”

A large wooden desk with a few tan files sat inbetween ☁️ and his new boss. Shedding beams into the room, the sun’s golden rays illuminated the frosted glass surrounding the two. ☁️ shook his head lightly, him then smiling at the older woman.

“It’s no problem. As long as this department isn’t anything like the other, this’ll feel like a promotion.” ☁️ brushed his hand against his navy blue sweater and sighed. “Thank you for having me.”

“Like you said, this is kind of like a promotion. I expect great things from you.” The boss stood up as a soft knock erupted from outside of the office. A man with long-ish blonde hair walked in and smiled- first at the boss, and then to ☁️.

“This is who you’ll be assisting. Felix will give you written pieces and ask for revisions until he sees that it’s fit to be published. Unfortunately, we are short staffed by choice, so the work load will be a lot. Please keep up with the given tasks and their deadlines. Felix?”

☁️ turned his head back to the man.

“Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Lee Felix and I’ll be taking care of you. I look forward to working with you.”

☁️ simply smiled and spoke a shy “hello,” as he stood up. “I’m ☁️, it’s nice to meet you as well.” He then thanked the boss for her time and followed Felix out of the room.

“Behave, Felix!” The boss shouted as ☁️ stepped out of the room behind the man. He followed Felix down the left side of the large room, stopping at a set of cubicles that sat against a wall of windows. Started from the floor and touching the ceiling, the view displayed a bustling city. The cubicle was light gray and quite large, with a grey laptop located on the desk inside. Felix walked in and pulled out the large cushioned chair, and looked around awkwardly.

“So.. this is where you’ll be spending a majority of your day. Since it’s so spacious there’s only two cubicles located against the wall on this side of the room. My area is directly in front of yours.” He pointed over the cubicle wall. “If you ever need anything, please just walk over or.. just look over it. Sound good?” Felix explained, his voice soft yet sonorous.

☁️ nodded and smiled bashfully. Felix was remarkably good-looking, which was unusual for an office setting such as this one. The man was pretty much ☁️’s type, too, making him even more nervous than he already was.

“Yes. Thank you, Felix.”

Felix smiled and nodded to the man before leaning against the cubicle’s entrance. He dug his hands beside his white button-up and down into his black pant’s pockets, waiting for ☁️ to sit down before responding.

“Of course. I’ll let you get used to the office before I ask you to do work.”

☁️ acknowledged what he said by nodding and smiling.

After Felix left, ☁️ opened the new computer and typed in his passcode information. For some reason, the office wifi wouldn’t connect, though. After trying for another minute, he stood up and peered over the wall to see a sitting felix.

“Felix?” ☁️ asked, his nose just barely peaking over the wall. Felix smiled and stood up to look over the wall as well.

“What’s up, love?” He asked, placing a hand on the edge to support his weight. ☁️ was initially taken aback by the pet name, but ultimately didn’t mind.

“I can’t get onto the wifi for some reason. Is there a different one that you use?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I guess our tech guy forgot to set that up for you. Jisung always forgets.”

☁️ watched a Felix closed his computer and then made his way back over to his cubicle. As a result, the man sat back down and perked his back up to fixed his posture. Felix strolled in after a few seconds and leaned into ☁️’s computer, his body softly brushing against the man’s shoulder. ☁️ couldn’t take his eyes off of Felix’s side profile as he typed into the computer.

“All right, you’re all set.” He cooed, brushing against ☁️ once again. As Felix was about to leave the cubicle, ☁️ shot up and grabbed his hand. Surprised, he stopped and turned around, still holding ☁️’s hand.

“Sorry if this is weird to ask, but..” ☁️ paused and tilted his head. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Oh, no.. not really my type if you know what I mean..”

“Oh okay.. then do you have a significant other- or something?” ☁️ asked.

“No,” Felix smiled and tightened his grip on ☁️’s hand. “but I think I kinda have a crush.”

☁️ knew exactly what he meant and mentally blushed. “Same here. Maybe we could go out sometime?”

“For sure. What’d you have in mind?”

“Would you wanna.. come to my place?”

Felix looked to the side, and then back to ☁️. “We don’t have to wait. Here, follow me.” He said, leading ☁️ into a storage room a few feet away from their work areas. Though the lights were extremely dim as the two hurried in, ☁️ could see the many drawers, bulletin boards, and spare furniture. Felix lightly closed the frosted door and somehow locked it from the inside, him then turning his attention to ☁️. He grabbed ☁️’s hands and held them in his own.

“Do you mind?” Felix asked as he raised one of the man’s hands to his mouth, kissing it. ☁️ shook his head and wrapped his arms around Felix’s neck, Felix reacting by guiding ☁️’s back into the wall behind him. ☁️ pushed Felix’s head forward, allowing the man’s lips to meet his own. Felix’s hands ran down ☁️’s torso, then settling on his hips as ☁️ began french kissing. Felix’s grip on the man’s waist tightened the deeper they kissed, with Felix’s bulge now rubbing against ☁️’s. A few seconds later, Felix pulled away from ☁️- strands of his blonde hair having fallen over his eyes.

“Come over here.” Felix instructed, using a hand to drag ☁️’s wrist over to a small table sitting against the wall. Felix gently pushed ☁️’s shoulder down as he leaned back on the table, leaving ☁️ to fall onto his knees. With a growing bulge right in front of his face, it was only natural for ☁️ to begin unbuttoning the man’s pants.

“Ah.. you’re excited, aren’t you?” Felix teased, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He ran a finger through ☁️’s hair as the man exposed his dick print, ☁️ then pulling the pants down to Felix’s ankles. Felix began unbuttoning his white top as ☁️ stroked the man’s boner through his gray underwear.

“Can I take it out?” ☁️ asked, continuing to caress it. Felix finished unbuttoning his top, displaying sculpted abs much to ☁️’s liking.

“Go ahead.”

☁️ slowly pulled the man’s underwear down, not anticipating getting smacked by his length.

“Oh, sorry.” Felix laughed. ☁️ rolled his eyes and smiled, him then beginning to stroke Felix’s cock, the man softly whimpering as he did so. ☁️ grinned at the reaction, placing Felix’s dick inside of his mouth and slowly throating it. He leisurely bobbed his head up and down as Felix threw his head back, practically moaning out now.

After a few seconds of steady swallowing, Felix quickly grabbed ☁️’s head and yanked it back. His dick fell out of the man’s mouth dripping in saliva.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to finish yet.” Felix said, kneeling down to match ☁️’s eye level. “Can I get some of this too?” He whispered as he got closer to ☁️, him then reaching behind the man and squeezing his ass.

“Oh, do you have a condom?”

Felix reached behind him and magically pulled out a wrapped condom and a tiny bottle.

“Of course.”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows and muttered an “alright.” as he followed Felix’s action of standing up. Felix’s skinny dick was still hard and poking out in front of him. Pulling his own pants and underwear off with quickness, ☁️ placed a hand on Felix’s chest.

“You can sit or lay on the table if you’d like, or you can-”

“You should let me do the work.” ☁️ murmured, softly pushing Felix back. Felix smiled and nodded, sliding back to sit on the table. He rolled the condom over his dick as ☁️ climbed on top of him, the man placing his knees beside each of Felix’s thighs. Waiting for him to pour the liquid onto his dick, ☁️ wrapped an arm around Felix’s neck- the man’s chest inches from Felix’s face.

“Alright, go ahead.” Felix muttered, placing his hands on ☁️’s waist and guiding the man down onto his cock. As his pink tip slipped in, ☁️ moaned out and tightened his grip around Felix’s neck.

☁️ now sat entirely on Felix’s dick, moaning softly as he took his time to undulate on it. The two huffed and whimpered as ☁️ began moving steadily on Felix’s dick, with ☁️’s chest still inches from the man’s mouth.

“That’s good.” Felix whispered, his eyebrows furrowed and his ajar lips producing silent moans. ☁️ felt Felix’s lips on his nipple a second later, him sucking and licking as the man bounced. ☁️ sped his undulating form up as Felix moved his hands down to ☁️‘s ass. Guiding him up and down even faster, ☁️ quickly became overstimulated. His knees buckled and he fell into Felix, who pulled away from the man’s nipple and placed his chin into ☁️’s neck.

“Can you keep going?” Felix hummed into ☁️’s ear, rubbing up and down his waist as he waited for an answer. After another few seconds, ☁️ pulled away from Felix and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, you can keep going.”

Felix nodded, pulling ☁️ into him and wrapping both of his arms around ☁️’s waist. As Felix began thrusting softly into him, the man wrapped both arms around Felix’s neck. Felix grunted as his thrusts picked up in speed, filling the room with the sounds of clapping and ☁️’s whimpers. Both of their moans hummed in each other’s ears, pushing the two to the brink of finishing.

Felix continued shoving the man onto his dick despite feeling ☁️’s knees buckle for a second time. As ☁️ felt his leaking dick brush against Felix’s rough abs, he threw his head back and gasped. He ejaculated, painting Felix’s abs in a glistening white liquid. The man thrusting into him noticed, and became even more turned on, using all of his force to drill into ☁️.

“I-I’m cumming.” Felix gasped. After a few more seconds of harsh and sloppy thrusting, Felix forced ☁️ onto the entirety of his length, filling the boy up with his semen.

The two breathed heavily in front of each other before Felix fell back onto the table, pulling ☁️’s arm as he did so. ☁️ fell on top of him, his energy drained. The man pulled Felix’s dick out of him and slid the condom off, bringing it in front of him so that he could tie it and throw it aside.

“I would’ve lasted longer if you weren’t so cute.” Felix muttered, stroking ☁️’s arm as the two laid still.

“It’s okay, there’s always next time.”

“Yeah.. and I’ll be sure to take you out to dinner beforehand.”

☁️ chuckled at the comment, planting a kiss on Felix’s puckered lips. “I’d like that.”

“I would too, love.”

a/n: writing smut is saurrr boring but i hope u guys like this lil top felix moment. i still think he’s cuter as a bottom lolll :,)) alsoo lowkey im desperately waiting for someone to request an indie movie plot so i can write smth cute, request awayyy!

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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deadhands69 · 19 days

Text

Tomura Shigaraki helps after you get hit by a sex quirk.

This ended up about 4x longer than expected so it's broken into two parts. Here's the first part, more of a precursor to the actual smut. Here's the second part.

Warnings/content/etc: Shigaraki x reader, fem-bodied/no pronouns, minor violence (Shiggy dusts someone), unestablished relationship, discussions of sex and implied future sexual situations, swearing.

MDNI

It’s too beautiful of an early summer evening to stay in so you, Shigaraki, Dabi, and Spinner decide to go for a walk. Even villains need to get out of the house for supplies every once in a while. Hoodies pulled over your heads, you can stay fairly incognito when you need to. Plus, when it’s busy enough out on a night like tonight, no one really pays attention to any one particular person.

About 5 minutes into your walk, the sidewalk widens and a small crowd surrounds a cafe. The busy area. Head down, you walk ahead of the group and move to pass around everyone. Unnoticed. Happy to be in the world.

Then you hear it.

A woman screams from the window one story up and you hear glass shatter as a figure emanating black dust falls onto the sidewalk ahead of you. Looking up at you, he smiles, sending a cold chill down your spine.

Glaring at him, you exclaim “hey-”

BOOM.

He burst into an inky cloud once more, leaving you and everyone else in darkness.

Screaming. Running. Shoving.

Not a big deal. You’re used to being caught up in the chaos, it was part of your job. The thick air was difficult to breathe in though.

And just like that, the dust dissipated leaving nothing to show for the commotion.

And you felt - weird? Is that the word for it?

You adjust your shorts and feel a deep ache. The rub of your underwear sends warmth radiating through your body, leaving you throbbing and empty. Fuck.

Thinking back to the news running in the background at the LOV headquarters that morning, you remember what you heard about some sexist d-list villain’s quirk: overwhelming arousal to the point of insanity. Also something else about it only affecting adult female bodies - which unfortunately includes you and quite a few other people on the street. Maybe you should have paid more attention but it didn’t seem important at the time. Could you do anything about this? There’s no time to think about it right now, revenge first.

You’d remember his perverted face but he was nowhere to be seen. Must have run. Looking around, you see Spinner talking to a girl - she looks nice. Dabi, always the opportunist, is already leaving with two girls on his arms. Tomura, standing by you looking just as confused as everyone else.

Accessing your surroundings further, you see where he went.

If you were trying to escape, you’d run down the alley behind the dumpsters. It was dimly lit. A much better hiding place than the busy sidewalk with all the streetlights. Heroes would show up any minute now.

Quickly, you sprint across the street, using one arm to launch yourself over the trash. A shadow of a human is visible ahead of you, you were correct. He begins to run when he sees you but you already have the momentum. Out of options, he disappears into a small stairwell.

Cornered, you stand in front of him and -

Wait. No. You try again. And again. Your quirk isn’t working. What the fuck.

His creepy face breaks into a laugh “Oh, that’s part of it. Before chasing someone down a dark alleyway, shouldn’t you at least know all of what their quirk does?”

Everything goes black and you’re once again left coughing. He activated his quirk again??

You feel someone push you out of the way. As the black cloud disappears into grey dust, Tomura Shigaraki looks over his shoulder at you. You know exactly what happened.

A wave of dizziness hits you when you stand and you feel a rush of heat through your body once more.

You see him do this all the time. Is this somehow hotter than usual? Or is it just the effects of the quirk? Both?

“You got hit twice?” he asks, slightly scolding.

“My - my quirk won’t work.”

A voice down the alleyway echoes between the buildings. Time’s up. The two of you leave quickly, opting to walk through the park to avoid streets that were certain to be full of heroes now.

“May cause dizziness, loss of mental clarity, and extreme arousal” Shigaraki read from his phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like a bad prescription commercial” you laugh, still unsure how to feel.

It felt better having him here though. You were used to walking home together. The league would usually split off in their own directions and more often than not, you’d somehow end up with Shigaraki. It feels nice. Familiar. He was usually much more quiet though.

“It looks like his quirk is unregistered, so there’s not a lot here. Maybe some news articles will have more.” Shigaraki mumbles into his hair before continuing his research. “According to this, it gets neutralized by...” he trails off, his face reddening.

“What fixes it?” you ask, already having an idea of what the answer is.

“Sex.” he says, wide eyes quickly glancing from under his hair at your reaction. “Can’t I just do it myself?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. This other article has more on that. Oh, definitely not. There’s a whole psych ward of people who tried. It’s pretty fucked up, want to see?” “No, I’ll see that soon enough.” you mumble to yourself.

You sigh and pick up the pace. Unsure why you’re walking so fast or where you’re going, it’s not like you’re about to spend your last sane moments begging some random to fuck you. You wouldn’t let yourself be that desperate. Even if you did, you’re a villain and you know your personality can come across cold to strangers - it probably wouldn’t work even if you did try.

You continue what feels like a death march to nowhere.

Without warning, the world shifts and the dizziness worsens, forcing you to lean into a cherry blossom tree before sliding your weight to the ground. Staring up at the puffy pink branches above, it seems nice. If this is the end, so be it. You could do without the overwhelming horniness but it could be worse. You watch as each cluster of flowers splits in two and spins like a kaleidoscope.

Two fingers tapping your shoulder pull you back to reality. Bringing your eyes back down, you see a sky blue outline with vivid red eyes seated in front of you. Blinking, Shigaraki comes into focus.

“I could help you, you know, if you want it.” He looks mildly annoyed, focusing hard on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your ears.

In a daze, you try to process what you’ve heard. “Like…sex?”

“Yeah.” he rolls his eyes, toying with a blade of grass.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Every once in a while, you’d be out doing league things when you caught him at the right angle and couldn’t help but stare. Or when he brushed past you in the hallway, moving close enough for your heart to feel like it would jump out of your throat. Sometimes, you even thought you saw him staring back but pushed those thoughts aside. He was always busy and seemed to care more about world destruction and video games than real human interaction. Maybe he was just being nice. He does a lot for the league, you’re sure he’d miss your help but is that enough to-

“Hey!” he waves you out of your thoughts. “It’s getting late, y/n. Do you want my help or not?” He sounds irritated but looks flustered. Eyes still to the ground, you watch the grass he’d been playing with decay between his fingers. Before you can answer, he added “I can try to make it fast for you but I also get if you don’t want me to touch you.”

“Oh.” He must have taken your slow reaction for rejection. “It’s not like that, I’m just - trying to figure this out. Yeah. I’d love your help.” you say before realizing how much you really mean it.

“Okay, yeah. Well, you better get off the ground then and we can go home.” he says trying to hide nervousness under a gruff front.

You press yourself slowly up the tree and make a single step before stumbling. “Dizzy. And like really out of it. Fuck.” you mumble to yourself. You want to curl up on the ground but his arm steadies you and you lean most of your weight into him. He starts walking again, basically carrying you.

It had been a long time since anyone had actually touched you, plus getting hit by a sex quirk two times made you really notice his touch. His toned arms through his sweatshirt, holding you as you made your way back. You looked up into the corner of his neck. His jaw. His chapped but full lips. You fought the urge to kiss him.

Is this actually happening?

pt 2 here

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x smut #shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #my hero academia smut #tomura shigaraki x you #bnha smut #league of villains x reader

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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 month

Text

01| The Grey Area

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. Warnings: emotional and physical cheating, forbidden love affair, reader is in government, cm level violence, r is a bitch at first, hotch is a jerk, based on olivia pope and fitzgerald grant Words: 3.8K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: is this based on scandal by shonda rhimes? yes. why? bc that was peak television. making this a series bc i need to learn how to make things other than long fics (be proud of me).

1989

For as long as you could remember, life was slow. Everything was black and white: your surroundings, your activities, your beliefs.

And then you met Aaron Hotchner, and you started seeing things in colour.

"I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

You barely looked up at the person, just shaking your head and continuing to twirl your pen on your desk. He sat down right after.

You didn't expect him to talk to you. In fact, you were sure your disinterest was written all over your face in bold red letters.

"I'm Aaron. Aaron Hotchner." He held his hand out; you only saw it because he held it over your desk, not because you actually looked in his direction.

You stared at his hand plainly before looking up to the front of the class where the professor had just stood up. "And I'm not interested," you said. Presumptuous of you, maybe, but this was Georgetown, and it was your second year. Everybody was competition, and nobody actually wanted to be your friend unless they were looking for something a little more.

It was like you could hear his frown. "I— we can't be friends?"

Finally, out of just pure exasperation, you looked at him, and boy were you taken aback. Aaron Hotchner, as he so formally introduced himself, had dark, dark brown hair, almost black, and a jawline that wasn't too sharp nor too round. His brown eyes looked at you expectantly, confusion swimming through them. Briefly, you thought he was perfect, but that wouldn't change your stance.

Despite your short-lived awe, you deadpanned, "No, we can't."

Aaron went to open his mouth, but then the professor started speaking and it cut him right off. You looked toward the front and didn't back at him once, listening intently. You were determined to succeed above all things, and no boy would get in the way of that.

Your first lecture of the semester went fine after that. You packed up your things at the end and you were gone before Aaron could try again. You went to one more class then got ready for work without another thought of him.

During nights, you were a bartender at this place near the campus. It wasn't just college kids; it was also frequented by businessmen and other big spenders who tipped well so long as you smiled and laughed at their jokes.

The excessive flirting wasn't ideal, but the job paid the bills, and since you were doing this all by yourself, that was exactly what you needed.

You rarely saw people you knew. There were regulars, and every once in a while you might've seen a kid from one of your classes, but it wasn't something you expected often.

You certainly didn't expect to see the hot guy from Advanced Legal Research.

"Hi there, what can I getcha?" You weren't looking at the customer, busy cleaning a glass and simultaneously passing someone their drink while you spoke to them.

"Hey, you're the girl from my LAW-J 301 course"

You paused at the person's voice, both at their enthusiasm and familiarity, and looked up. When you did, you couldn't help the groan that left you. "Seriously? You, again?" Each word was enunciated slowly, accurately demonstrating your annoyance. However, you got back to what you were doing, taking your eyes off him. "What, are you stalking me, Hopscotch?"

"It's Hotchner."

This time, your sigh was accompanied by a pointed eye roll. "Duuuude." You looked back up. "I do not care. Now, what do you want?"

He snorted. "Do you talk to all your customers this way?"

You flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Just the ones that can't take a hint." He opened his mouth for a sharp rebuttal no doubt, but you redirected the conversation. "Your order, Hopscotch. Or else you're gonna have to kick rocks."

He acquiesced like it was such a hardship you were asking of him, like you weren't in a bar that he came to specifically to order a drink. "Fine. Whiskey, neat."

That, you could help him with. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured some into a glass for him, all the while making conversation. He wasn't special; you did this with every customer. "What are you doing here?" When you got no response, you glanced back up to see a confused expression on his face. You elaborated, "Doesn't seem like your scene." You would've said no offense, but who were you kidding? You were already abrasive to begin with.

But he didn't look offended. If anything, he looked curious. "How so?"

You slid his drink across the counter, cocking your head at him as if telling him it was stupid to even ask. "You introduced yourself with your first and last name, extended your hand for me to shake, then just now, you referred to our class with the course code." You raised a brow then. "A little formal, don't you think?"

Now he looked a little offended. "Formal? I don't think so. I'm a little old fashioned at most."

For the second time that day, you deadpanned. "You're at the bar in a suit and tie. You couldn't have made it any more obvious that you don't do this often."

He got a little red then. You think that, if he could've, he would've loosened his tie, but he just picked up his drink, taking a swig. You'd give him a little credit, though; at least he looked like he could take his liquor. "Fine," he admitted, "my friends dragged me out."

"Ah," you chuckled, "common occurrence here at GWU. You'll get used to it soon, freshie."

He furrowed his brows. "How'd you know I was a first-year?"

You grinned. "You just told me, Hopscotch."

He groaned, making you stifle a laugh. No, you wouldn't laugh at him; that'd make it seem like his presence was growing on you when it wasn't.

You didn't need new friends, and you certainly didn't need suit-and-tie-wearing, formal Aaron Hotchner.

But he stayed there. He stayed there and talked you as you served other customers, asking you to refill his drink every now and then. You wondered where his friends were, but by the time closing came 'round, you assumed they were long gone.

He talked to you all night, you realized.

And you didn't totally hate it.

Aaron visited you at work the next day, too. That's when you told him your name. Then you started talking to him in class. Then, before you knew it, you exchanged numbers and he was visiting you at work nearly every day.

But you were right in your earlier reservations. You and Aaron Hotchner couldn't be friends.

You just learned that too late.

2005

"Tallie, tell Gretchen that I need the files on Henderson's case by the end of the day, please."

You walked with your assistant at your side, heels clicking against the floor as you went through all the day's administrative business. Every day, Tallie went over your schedule with you as soon as you entered the building. Time was of the essence in your job, and you had none of it to waste.

"Yes, ma'am, and— if I may—"

"Oh, and contact the President's Chief of Staff. I need to meet with him by the end of the day to discuss the recent terrorist attack in London again. We need to communicate with the British government without overstepping."

"Done, and—"

"And could you please get Rob Burton on the line for me?" You turned down the hall that led to your office. "He said he has an inquiry for me."

"Well, ma'am, um—" You had just reached your office when Tallie stopped, sighing. You looked back at her, raising a brow. Sheepishly, she pointed ahead of you. "There's that."

Your brows knitted together. You turned, following her gaze to see a dark-haired man standing in your waiting room, eyes on his watch. As if he felt your presence, he looked up, and as soon as your eyes locked, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Tallie cut off your thought process. "I kept telling him he didn't have an appointment, but he said you knew him and would let him in, that it's urgent."

You let out a sigh of your own, muttering under your breath, "Somehow, I don't doubt that." It had to be urgent if Aaron Hotchner was at your office. You glanced back at Tallie, giving her a tense smile. "Thank you, Tallie. We'll raincheck that phone call with Mr. Burton?"

She nodded, giving a "Yes, ma'am," before she walked past the man in your waiting room to her desk.

Like old times, you couldn't hold back another sigh, but you got your exasperation under control before you walked up to him, if not just to be professional and keep up appearances.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, a faux smile on your face. "It's... nice to see you." It was like the words stung coming out of your mouth, and that was because they weren't true. If he was half as good of a profiler as you thought he was, then he'd know that.

If he knew you as well as he thought he did, then he should've known that regardless.

You didn't bother waiting for his greeting; you didn't care for it. "Let's talk in my office." Not a question.

He complied, following you into your office and shutting the door on the way in. With your back still turned to him, you momentarily closed your eyes, willing yourself to have the strength to sit through whatever it was he had to tell you.

When you had it, you turned back around, dropping all the pleasantries now that you were away from prying eyes. "What is it that's so important you couldn't say over the phone?"

He didn't answer. Deep down, you both knew it was because he could've. He didn't need to be here, but instead of agreeing with you, he nodded to the two chairs in front of your desk. "You're not going to offer me a seat?"

You scoffed. "If I did, would you take it?" You're met with silence, another answer in and of itself. It'd been six years, yet you could still read Hotch's tells like a children's book. He didn't like to say anything when he knew you were right.

You took that moment to examine him. He looked the same, just as you left him. Maybe a bit more worn, a bit more tired, and a bit more cold, but weren't you all?

Briefly, you wondered what he was thinking about you.

He got to the point, as he always did. "I have a suspect for the murders of 12 women in D.C. spanning over the past six months," he told you. "His name is Eric Clark. He's the founder and CEO of a new tech start-up here; they're calling him the new Zuckerberg." The sarcasm in his voice when he said that last bit was evident, shining through his monotonous persona.

You were aware of the murders he spoke of, and you were aware of who Eric Clark was. He was invited to some state dinner you just went to. But you didn't say this. Instead, you shrugged like it didn't matter to you and asked him, "So why are you telling me?"

If your nonchalance bothered him, he didn't voice it. He simply explained, "I need a warrant." A warrant, he said, like that sentence stood alone. What he was realling saying was, he needed a warrant, and he needed you to get it for him. More than that, he expected you to get it for him.

That forced a chuckle out of you, even though you didn't feel any humour at all. So that was why he was here; six years go by without any contact, but now that he needed something, here he was.

You felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Hotch needing something and claiming that you were the only one who could give it to him.

"You need a warrant," you echoed, splaying your hands out in front of you. "So go take that up with a judge."

You saw a sudden crack in his calm composure. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, so slightly you wouldn't have noticed it if you didn't know what to look for.

But you knew what to look for.

"Come on, Y/N." He said your name like you were just old friends, like this stop by your office was a normal occurence. "Everyone knows you have pull in this city."

You did have pull in this city. In fact, you had pull in just about every city in America; being the U.S. Attorney General gave you that kind of power.

So yes, you had pull, and now Hotch wanted you to pull some strings for him as if you owed him a favour, as if you owed him anything.

You didn't say this, but you were sure that your next words said enough for you. "Where's Gideon? Normally, he's the one to come knocking on my door when the BAU needs something." You found it highly unlikely that he'd ever send Hotch, of all people, on his behalf.

Hotch pursed his lips. "He's on leave."

You made a clicking sound of realization, but it was more mocking than anything since you already gathered as much. That meant he was unit chief now, and that was why he was here. So that's what it took? you thought. All it took was a promotion, obligation, and now he was here.

He was here, checking his watch in your waiting room, marching into your office and shutting the door, clenching his jaw and pursing his lips like he was the one with the right to be mad.

You'd give it to him: Aaron Hotchner sure as hell had guts.

You circled back to the original topic. "Yeah, Hotch, that's not happening." He went to cut you off, but you stopped him by raising a hand. Your were firm as you asserted, "If you're here with me instead of with a judge, that means you have insubstantial evidence. So how about, instead of ambushing me and wasting my precious time, you go back to the drawing board?" It wasn't a suggestion as much as it was an insult.

His jaw tensed, his eyes hardening as he stared at you. "I am sorry to waste your precious time, but precious lives are at stake." Condescending as ever.

"I undersand that, but you clearly have no probable cause." Or did you forget what that was? you wanted to add, but you kept that part to yourself.

You thought, if he clenched his jaw any harder, it just might break. "I have a profile—"

"Which clearly isn't enough—"

"You of all people should understand the importance of a profile, Y/N."

You took a sharp breath through your nose. It was low of him to say that, and it was also such a profiler of him to say it, mostly because he knew it'd get you.

You weren't always the Attorney General.

Perhaps this is why you agreed. "Fine. I'll go talk to a judge for you."

He sighed, "Thank you." He said it without looking at you, then he was opening your door and walking out, and you nearly thanked him for it.

Six years had gone by.

Yet you wouldn't have been able to tell with the way your heart was racing.

You went on with your day after Hotch left, going through paperwork and dropping by the White House. You had a meeting with the President that day, the President of the United States, the most important person in the whole damn country. That was little old you that did that.

You weren't the same girl he remembered, not that girl from Georgetown who rolled her eyes at every one of his corny jokes, and he wasn't the same guy who'd sit and wait for you the by the bar, either. He was the unit chief now. And you were the Attorney General.

Things were different now.

Or maybe they weren't.

Because Aaron Hotchner came striding into your office just later that night.

Your door flew open, Aaron walking in thereafter with a stone cold frown and determination etched onto his face. It wasn't like the Aaron you knew to frown so much, but that wasn't what you were focused on.

You immediately shot up from your chair and rounded your desk, baffled by his behaviour. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're—"

You didn't get to finish your sentence. Before you could berate him, Aaron's hand was on the back of your head and his lips were slamming into yours. Slamming was the right word. This was fervent, almost violent, like he wanted to bruise you, like he wanted to permanently mold his lips into yours.

Your eyes went wide. You should've pushed him away—you really should have. But it was like you weren't thinking. Like you were on auto-pilot, your hands automatically went to his hair, your lips moving in unison with his.

This was muscle memory. God, how could you have ever forgotten what this felt like? Like ecstasy, and butterflies, and all good things in the world. Kissing him felt like everything all at once.

But everything meant that it came with all the bad in the world, too.

Your senses came back to you as you pushed him away, stumbling backward. You were sure you would've fallen, had your desk not been right behind you. You were heaving, and he was no different.

Fuck. What did you just do?

Your eyes darted to the door, alarm flashing through them. "Tallie—"

He finished your thought, assuring you, "She's gone. I sent her home."

Relief flooded your body. She wasn't here, she didn't see anything. That was good. But then what he said actually hit you. Your eyes narrowed into slits. "You did what?" He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort, but you kept going. "You sent my assistant home?"

"Yes."

You scoffed. He sent your assistant home, and he was just admitting it proudly like it was nothing. Maybe nothing was different after all if Aaron was still here, barging into your life like he owned it, like he owned you.

And perhaps he did.

"You can't— you can't just—"

"I can't what?" he cut you off then took a step closer. "I can't come see you?" Another step. "We used to see each other all the time."

You were already cornered, right against your desk. "That was before," you responded. "Before—" the rest of your sentence got caught in your throat. You had glanced down momentarily, catching sight of his hand in the process. There, something glinted in the light. A golden band.

A wedding ring.

Your chest tightened, your voice getting smaller. "Before that." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it was impossible not to notice the crack in your voice.

You didn't know how you didn't feel the ring when he had his hand on your head.

Confused, Aaron followed your line of sight, right down to his hand. When he realized what you were referring to, he sighed, "Y/N, it's not what you think—"

A humourless chuckle left you. "It never is, is it?" You could count the number of times he'd said that to you. "God, I can't believe it." You chuckled again before your laugh faded into something angrier. No, not angrier. You were furious.

You didn't know if there was even a word in the English language that could describe how furious you were.

"You—" you took a deep breath, stopping yourself from yelling. "You're doing this to me— again?"

"Y/N—"

You slapped his hands away when he tried to put his hands on your arms. You didn't want to feel that fucking ring touch your skin. "Again?!" you seethed. "What, two times wasn't fucking enough for you? You had to go and do this a third time—"

"Please, just—"

You refused to let him get a word out. "No! I don't need any more of your excuses, Hotch!" Lord knew that if you heard them, you might just believe them.

You nearly did the first time.

To think that he had just been in your office hours earlier, acting like he didn't know you, like he didn't break you down just to build you back up and do it all over again.

He could've at least given you the courtesy of leaving you alone, but it appeared that he couldn't even do that. Still, he was defending himself, false conviction lacing through his voice. "Haley and I are separated—"

"Separated?" That forced another chuckle out of you. "Sure, and I'm the Pope."

His glare at you hardened, like he was mad at you "I'm being serious."

Another laugh. He couldn't figure out why the hell you were laughing.

"Haley, haley, haley." Your voice raised. "It's always about fucking Haley." Even when he was with you.

Especially when he was with you.

His jaw locked. "We're not together right now."

You snapped, "Tell that to the fucking ring on your finger, asshole."

It was laughable, really. You were the Attorney General of the United States of America. You sat in one of the highest offices of the land. Yet Aaron Hotchner still had the ability to turn you into putty in his hands.

The Attorney General didn't play second fiddle to anyone.

But you'd always be second to Haley Brooks.

"Get out, Hotchner."

"What?" He had the audacity to look hurt, confused. You didn't understand what there was to be confused about.

You managed to wriggle yourself out of the space where you were stuck between him and your desk, walking to your door and nearly yanking it open, holding it for him wordlessly.

He scoffed. "Y/N, come on—"

You shut him down. "No. I did what you asked earlier. I got you your warrant, therefore we are done. Now get out."

You didn't meet his eyes but you felt them burning into you with the same heat that'd make an unsub crack. It was the same heat that'd make you crack, too, which was precisely why you refused to look at him.

After what felt like a lifetime of staring at you, his footsteps sounded. You didn't look up until you watched his shoes pass you. Immediately, you closed the door, locking it.

Your hand fell around the door handle, your forehead resting against the door. Briefly, you wondered what the sensation in your eyes was, until you realized it was tears.

You hadn't cried in so long.

But whenever Aaron Hotchner came around, tears seemed inevitable.

taglist: @c-losur3

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scarletttries · 8 months

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Soft Adrian Chase/ Vigilante Headcanons (Peacemaker Request)

Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante (Peacemaker) x GN! Reader

Rating: Fluff

Author's Note: I'm not watching anything new and exciting at the minute, so I'm visiting some favourite characters for inspiration, and of course Adrian Chase is where I'd start :)

Soft Adrian Chase/ Vigilante Headcanons:

- This man is completely incapable of playing it cool. It doesn't matter if you meet him as Adrian or Vigilante, the minute his eyes met yours he would turn into a babbling mess, desperately trying to keep your attention, capture your favour, and best of all make you smile.

- It'd be hard to tell exactly how much of his behaviour was flirting and how much was just his sweet, if not a little intense, dedication to friendship. He would go out of his way to meet you after your classes or work, always 'just happening to be in the neighbourhood' and walking the same direction you are. When you ask if the flowers he's holding just happen to be for you, you can get to watch him squirm and falter as he pretends he was on his way to a funeral that got cancelled and so you 'can have them if you want?'

- Despite his obvious dedication and infatuation, you would have to be the one to ask Adrian on a real date, the thought of you feeling the same way he does is frankly too far outside the realm of possibility for him to consider until you confess your own feelings first. Which of course have developed through weeks of his being the sweetest and most attentive man you've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

- Dates with Adrian are pretty low key - lots of pizza and movies at home, walks in the park on sunny days, and running errands together that somehow become a lot more fun when there's someone beside you doing his best to make a joke out of everything. Gradually Adrian's apartment stops feeling like home to him unless you're there too, and one night he slips you a key laced on a BFF keychain that you know he treats like a sacred vow.

- You find Adrian's a surprisingly good listener to whatever's on your mind. He's spent a lot of his life feeling lonely and misunderstood, so any chance he can take to make you feel like someone is seeing the real you and accepting it 100% is a chance he feels privileged to take. Over time he opens up to you too, about his family and childhood and all the strange and winding paths that lead him to be Vigilante as well as Adrian Chase. You know there are some moral grey areas where Adrian has stepped further over the line that you would have liked, but somehow when he's staring up at you through his thick glasses, telling you every thought he has as they occur to him, you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt - if he's such a bad guy, why is he such an angel to you.

- Adrian's favourite thing in the world is when you come meet him after his shifts at his day job, the euphoria of having someone waiting for him to be free never fading no matter how long you're together. He'll make a big show of pointing you out to all his doubtful colleagues, feeling proud and safe as he runs out the door and over to you, scoping you up in his arms and telling you every day just how much he missed you.

- Adrian's place is pretty basic when you first start visiting - he's got all the necessary furniture but no soft or personal touches that make the place his own. One day you decide to gift him a soft teal blanket that inexplicably makes you think of him. Another time you buy him a couple of extra mugs so your morning coffees can match. Slowly Adrian watches his house become a home, begging you to spend a Friday night scouring the local thrift stores with him for more little pieces, hoping that the more you help him decorate, the less time you'll want to spend away from his apartment in the first place.

- Vigilante keeps some strange hours, and can't always keep in touch as much as he'd like to when he's out on patrol. The two of you would come up with your own code to keep close though; a special knock that only the two of you know for when either of you get home, Adrian sending a merman emoji every two hours without fail to let you know he's still safe, and always getting home before you wake up in the morning so you never have to wake up in an empty bed without him.

- The little life that you and Adrian build together would feel like a safe harbour in the stormy waters of his fight against crime and isolation, your company the softest and cosiest presence he never imagined he'd be able to find, or feel deserving of.

#writing #fanfiction #requests #one shot #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase smut #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase imagines #adrian chase #vigilante fluff #vigilante imagines #vigilante x reader #peacemaker vigilante #vigilante #peacemaker headcanons

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winedarkthoughts · 3 months

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house of addams (6)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 5.5k

— 🍄 summary: desperate times call for morally grey measures.

— ☕ content warnings: stalking (but it's mutual??), taking photos without consent (also mutual), slight lore dump, mentions of death/decomposition/missing persons

— 🕸️ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who continues to share their thoughts i love y'all so much!!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 6: don't stalk, investigate

october 19, 2004

The trees surrounding the university are starting to brown at the edges. Fall has begun its descent.

The click of the camera shutter has become white noise to you. Through the viewfinder, you follow the motion of the mop of black hair.

You've found that that's how he starts almost all of his mornings: messily, sleepily. More often than not, his hair is just-rolled-out-of-bed fluffy, the lower half of his face covered with a black mask so you can only see his cat-like eyes.

He looks good today, wearing a loose white button-up and silver jewelry. He approaches the university with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, still clearly half-asleep.

Yoongi is not a morning person, you've learned. You know because you've been watching him.

Listen, you never claimed to be a saint. And yes, maybe half the reason that you're a damn good private investigator is because you're willing (and perfectly capable) of doing the things that others would rather not.

So be it. You've witnessed others commit far worse evils than the one you're currently undertaking.

Long story short, your mental blockade with the case (and whatever the fuck happened at the lake) may or may not have caused you to look into some of the strange characters frequenting Farrow's End. Starting with the shy, antisocial botanist.

The fact that he supposedly lived in the Addams house (according to the commentary from the college students) wasn't the thing that made you suspicious, it was the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. Pretended to know absolutely nothing about it, to boot.

As a human being, you can respect someone keeping their secrets. As a private investigator, your job is to dig up any secrets that prove relevant to your investigation.

Half of you wants to believe that he's nothing but a good guy. You can admit that you like him, that you relate to his aura as the token "weirdo." But the cynical part of you, it whispers in your ear that he shouldn't be trusted.

No one should. Your job has taught you that much.

Therefore, you have to exhaust each point of view until you find out who's guilty, and who's less guilty. Because pure innocence is impractical.

And after what you saw (or think you saw) at the lake, you're going to have to gear your research towards less "scientific" topics. And try to avoid the woods at all costs. For the time being, at least.

On most days, Yoongi begins his days early, and mostly on-campus. It didn't take long to witness him being transported by the same black Mercedes that you saw outside the cafe, the one supposedly belonging to one of the mysterious Jungs.

Though Yoongi never enters the car in heavily populated areas. He usually walks a short distance to a more private spot, and then the car pulls up like clockwork.

You can never get a good look at the driver, thanks to the tinted windows.

So far, the only suspicious thing about the botanist is the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. He goes to class, goes to his labs, gets coffee, goes home, with very little in-between.

Well, that plus spending a large amount of his time on campus with one specific chemist. And it doesn't take much longer to realize that he lives at the Addams house too.

Jimin, unlike Yoongi, is often late. He gets dropped off by the same sleek car, a short distance away from his destination, then he power walks to wherever he's going, fluffing and preening himself along the way.

Whether it's a hand brushing through his hair, or a knuckle pushing up the bridge of his glasses (which he never leaves the house without), or him adjusting the collar of his shirt, he's almost always fixing himself.

Sometimes, you get the impression that he isn't comfortable in his own skin.

He has a few other signatures: those heeled boots, pants that are almost always too tight for your liking, glasses (either tinted or completely dark), and always a mask covering his mouth. That, or sometimes an oversized scarf pulled up to just under his nose when it's particularly chilly outside, the wind rustling his hair and it's oddly shifting color.

You've taken to wearing one of your smaller cameras around your neck at all times, just in case you run into anything suspicious and need to snap a picture.

The morning mist has deepened into a constant drizzle most mornings, and that leather jacket you bought at Magic Shop has come in particularly handy. The garment is warm and cozy, and it always gives you a feeling of comfort whenever you wear it.

Fine, so maybe following Yoongi and Jimin didn't yield the results you wanted, though you'll admit it was fun. Still, something is telling you that there's something suspicious about that house and those who reside in it.

So you move on to another lead: Kim Taehyung.

He rarely leaves the house, you've found. So you have to conclude that he lives there as well as works there. When he does leave, it's on official business. Either to go to the police station to pick up documents or out of town to examine a body.

He doesn't ride in the Mercedes, though. Rather, he drives a classic black hearse. Again, peak dedication to the aesthetic, which you can appreciate.

And fine, maybe you snapped a few pictures of him on the rare times you caught him out of the house, but it's all for the sake of the investigation.

At first, you were quite hesitant to get too close to the house on the hill, with its looming trees and black birds hovering all about the roof.

But one day, when you creep up the path, the front gate opens on its own to welcome you. You were planning on scraping along the outside of the gate, peering into the yard through the iron bars. You weren't expecting it to actually open for you.

A gust of wind surges through the air, pulling you towards the house. The rustle of the trees practically whispers come closer.

It takes you a little bit aback, but you don't show it. Just in case someone is watching. In fact, you barely react to it, simply sidestepping the gate entrance and continuing along the path as if you were on a morning walk.

You walk along the entire perimeter of the gated yard, which is much, much larger than you anticipated. There are a number of gardens, a small hedge maze, a swamp even, and at the very edge of the property, a graveyard.

The tombstones are dotted throughout the wooded grove, a thick layer of ivy covering the ground like a burial shroud, and an air of calm hangs about the place.

But it isn't until you circle back to the other side of the house that you see something you truly weren't expecting: Jin, your favorite barista, strolling through the garden with a cup and saucer in his hands.

Wearing a turtleneck under a black coat, his hair blowing picturesquely in the chill wind, he meanders past the crumbling stone statues and trickling fountains.

You quickly duck behind a tree, reaching into your jacket to grab the small binoculars that you typically carry when you're in the..."observation" phase of the investigation. No, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this sort of thing.

Jin leisurely walks over the cobblestone pathway, sipping from his cup with a satisfied expression. He'll run a hand through his hair or lean against one of the stone garden walls, looking over his shoulder every once in a while.

And maybe it's just a hunch, but you get the sense that he knows that he's being watched. The weird thing is that he doesn't seem bothered by the fact at all. In fact, it almost looks like he's...posing.

An itch at the back of your neck. A glance back at Jin tells you that he's not looking at you, nor has he realized that you're there. But still, now you feel eyes on you.

You look around but find nothing but white-barked trees. And maybe if you looked a little closer you would've noticed that the knots in said trees look a little too much like eyes, open and alert.

Even if you had noticed such a thing, your conscience would tell you that obviously that's not the case. Trees can't watch people.

You'd be wrong, of course, but how could you have known that then?

october 23, 2004

He only ever works nights. The graveyard shift, to be specific. His shift always starts after the sun has set, and it ends just before it rises again.

Normally, you'd split your time between the cafe and the bookshop, but recently you've dedicated almost the entirety of your days to watching the barista and learning his habits. And in that time, you've hardly seen him eat.

In all the time you've spent watching him combined, the only things you've seen him eat include: a handful of olives, a few slices of bread and cheese, and the occasional spoonful of honey. Coffee and the offhand glass of red wine (which he pours into a teacup with a charming wink when he catches you watching him) is all you ever see him drink.

The only time he leaves the Addams house, besides to go to work, is on Saturday mornings when the Farmer's Market takes up the town square.

Sporting a checkered coat with the collar turned up to shield the lower half of his face, sunglasses (even though it's utterly cloudy), and an umbrella held over his head (even though it's not even drizzling), Jin scours the aisles, scrutinizing each booth's wares to find only the freshest and best quality produce, meats, and bread. He also procures some fancy cheese and preserves, his tastes expensive and well-refined.

The only other time you see him deviate from his routine is to visit the nearest hospital one afternoon. You're expecting him to enter into the waiting room, but he circles around the back, waiting by a STAFF ONLY door.

That same tickle from somewhere in your brain, the one that makes your eyes a little blurry. You take a moment to refocus them, and then you see the door crack open.

The person behind the door hands Jin an object that he quickly conceals in his coat, and the interaction is too quick for you to see what exactly it is.

But not quick enough for you to miss taking a picture. Because you've learned that it's always best to prioritize the camera before your eyes.

You take it to the dark room that same day. And the film reveals that the object appears to be a plain white box. Your guess is that it's a thermal container, the ones used to transport samples or the like.

It's a bit embarrassing to admit that it takes another day to put two and two together.

You're sitting in the cafe, skimming through the files of the five missing persons, when Jin approaches your booth and silently places a pastry on the table.

It's another one of his habits, you've noticed. Whenever you're in the cafe and have gone a long time without ordering any food, he'll subtly bring you something without a word, and you're usually too focused on your research to notice until some time has passed and it's too late to reject the offer.

You've told him several times that though the gesture is appreciated, he doesn't need to provide you with any freebies just because you're in here all the time. But he just brushes you off and claims that he needs a taste tester for his new recipes.

You let it slide after telling yourself that he probably does the same to a number of other customers given his charming nature (though in all the time you've observed him he's never done it for any other patron, but that you conveniently ignore).

This time it's a little cake, topped with a strawberry and absolutely smothered in fresh cream. When you cut into it, red jam spills from the inside of the cake like blood from a wound.

Then it finally clicks.

...Blood.

Like a slideshow in fast motion, all of the little details spring back into the forefront of your mind. The time when you noticed his shirtsleeve riding up, revealing a faded scar distinctly resembling a bite mark on the inside of his wrist. The time you noticed him drinking from a to-go coffee cup, but with a ring of red surrounding the opening in the lid.

And at the hospital, a thermal container used to transport samples such as blood bags, or even human organs.

Fuck.

You push the dessert away at the realization, scrambling to gather your things and leave the cafe as quickly as possible.

Of course, that means you miss the concerned and slightly disappointed look on Jin's face as he watches you go.

october 24, 2004

You don't know what makes you more of an idiot, the fact that you're actually close to believing that Jin is some sort of blood-sucking creature of the night, or the fact that it took you this long to consider the fact based on all the warning signs.

Unfortunately, nothing is impossible. And though none of your investigations so far have pointed to something so overtly "supernatural," you have to entertain the possibility.

Because it's possible that something about it could trace back to one or more of the victims, since clearly this case has proven to be far from normal.

Though the internet is a great resource, currently all you can find is blog posts, and you'd prefer not to cite those when it comes to professional matters. So you turn to local folklore, urban legends, and the security of the written word.

When you enter the bookshop the next day, you realize just how broad of a topic it is. There are hundreds, even thousands of mythical creatures across different cultures. It's going to take a long time to factor out one with the right features and track it's roots.

Then you remember the man behind the counter. Namjoon is currently staring at the mass of papers on his desk, looking confused and frustrated.

"What's all that?" you ask as you approach the counter.

"My accounts. Balancing my checkbook," he replies without looking up from the mess.

"Ah," you say in understanding, in pity.

A pause.

"Want a distraction?" you finally ask, and his head whips up almost instantly.

"Dear God, yes."

You chuckle, moving to lean against the desk.

"You're a writer, right?"

"Yes," he answers with a nod.

"What kind of things do you write?"

"Mostly research papers, some articles here and there, a few field guides."

Hmm, so he's more of a scholar, then. Interesting.

"In what area of study?"

Namjoon's mouth twitches like he's trying to find the right words.

"Folklore," he finally answers, but obviously there's a little more to it.

Perfect. You bite back the urge to rock on your toes with excitement.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

He smiles at that, dimples and all, like nothing would delight him more.

"Of course, anything you want," he answers, voice curling around the edges.

And you don't know it, but he means it sincerely. He would tell you anything and everything about him and his little family if you would only ask.

Any of them would, really. Technically, none of them have ever lied to you, they just haven't share all the information.

And if Namjoon is being honest, all of them are quite eager for you to get a little more invasive and figure them out for yourself.

"What do you know about mythological creatures that feed on life energy?"

You didn't mean for it to come out so specific, so incriminating. But you're getting a little tired of questions without a ghost of an answer.

His eyebrows raise a bit.

"To be honest with you, my knowledge is limited mainly to the folklore of this region," he admits, sounding apologetic.

Even more perfect. You try not to give away too much of your excitement, despite the fact that every time you encounter him he only seems to get better and better.

"Pray tell," you urge, leaning forward slightly with open ears.

A little bashful expression crosses his face as he settles deeper in his chair, all thoughts of taxes abruptly thrust aside.

"Well, vampiric creatures are quite common across folklore in many cultures. They're usually associated with outbreaks of disease, and vampire hunts are mostly accompanied with epidemics..."

You let him talk for as long as he wants, listening eagerly and only looking away to scribble a few notes from time to time. It's clear that he's passionate about what he studies, speaking about it like a lover would.

He tells you that even the word "vampire" is shrouded in mystery, as linguists do not know the precise etymological origin. Apparently, the folklore of this region is steeped in Slavic roots, so that's what he focuses on to narrow it down for you.

From the Old East Slavic language, the term "vampire" hails from the word "upir," which is speculated to translate as "someone who bites" or "the thing at the feast/sacrifice," though the word has no definite origin.

Namjoon tells you that scholars agree that the term was used as a stand-in, since they were too afraid to say the creature's true name.

"An upir needs to feed on life essence to survive. In literature, this is usually represented by drinking blood, since it represents life," Namjoon explains.

"Usually?"

He shrugs.

"The "opir" in Ukraine consumes large amounts of fish as their source of sustenance, preferences vary across cultures."

"You speak of it like they're real," you say with a chuckle, watching closely for his reaction.

Another shrug, this one more uncomfortable.

"To the Slavs, they were. The universal belief in supernatural beings was common. Unseen entities were part of the way they understood the world," he says.

"Hmm," you mumble, scanning him up and down. You try not to delight in the way he squirms slightly under your scrutiny.

"Most of the traits attributed to vampires these days are based on myths, or downright misunderstandings," Namjoon blurts out. "Like how the outbreak of rabies in Europe led to the belief that the upir are afraid of light, which is ridiculous. Many of the symptoms of rabies, which is spread through biting, coincide with the supposed traits of vampires, like the fear of light and altered sleep patterns."

He says it all like he's slightly annoyed.

"Or how they assumed that the upir are undead because during decomposition, built up pressure can push the blood into a corpse's mouth," he continues.

"So the upir aren't undead at all?" you probe.

"No, it's just a misconception," Namjoon replies like he's in the throes of a heated debate.

He seems to notice, since the next moment he's clearing his throat awkwardly and slumping in his seat.

There's a moment of silence as you jot down some more notes.

"They're not evil," he blurts out like he can't help it, and the look on his face implores you to believe him.

You look up at him.

"Across the centuries, they've always been used as the scapegoat for things humans can't understand," he adds softly.

Hmm, yes that seems to be a recurrent theme in human history.

You close your notebook and straighten up from leaning on the desk.

"Very interesting. Thank you, Namjoon," you say and mean it.

He smiles and nods as if to say of course, but after your back is turned, his face falls a bit, wondering if he let a little too much slip.

"Too much? In my opinion, you didn't tell her enough," Jimin quips.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but he's mainly focused on Jin. The older man only smiles at him, pressing a comforting hand to Namjoon's cheek.

"Don't worry, love. I don't mind at all," he says. Because yes, he too is eager for you to realize just what they all are.

"I just don't want her to think we're the ones behind all this," Namjoon admits.

"If she's as smart as she appears, then she'll figure that out for herself soon enough," Hoseok replies, slowly circling the room with his arms crossed.

He approaches the elegant leather couch that Namjoon and Jin are occupying.

"Joonie," he says, running a hand down the younger man's neck.

"I don't think it would hurt to drop her a few more hints, hm?" And everyone notices the smirk on Hoseok's face.

"I'm tired of waitiiiiing," Jimin whines.

"She's still a skeptic, Minie," Yoongi supplies from where he's watering the plants against the window. "She needs to be eased in."

Jimin just rolls his eyes.

"We could just kidnap her," he suggests.

"No." The reply comes instantly from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi simultaneously.

Jimin laughs high and bright.

"Come now, Jimin," Hoseok says with a sharp smile of his own. "Everyone knows it's more fun when they consent to it first."

october 25, 2004

The next time you enter the bookshop, Namjoon immediately mentions that he put together a little collection of texts for you to look over, saying they might be interesting to you. Maybe even aid in the investigation.

You thank him earnestly. And no, your face doesn't heat up at the fact that someone has gone out of their way to make your life easier.

When you slip into your usual nook, you notice that one of the drawers in the desk is adorned with a little pink ribbon around the handle, almost like it's gift-wrapped. And when you open it, you see several books, articles, and newspaper clippings, all of which seem very promising.

Something stirs in your stomach at the sight, but it's quickly set aside as you lock in and dive headfirst into the new research endeavor.

There's the notice for each of the missing persons, all the mentions of them so far in the newspapers, including one article from a publisher you've never heard of.

With the headline simple reading DISAPPEARED, the short snippet describes each missing person and the details of their last eyewitness account. The strange thing is that the article includes far more details than the big-name publishers, making you wonder why you haven't heard of it before.

The Periscope Press. You don't recall seeing it in any of the corner stores around town, but you do recall some of the people you interviewed mentioning details from "the newspaper" that you hadn't heard previously. Maybe this is the publisher they were referring to.

When you ask Namjoon about it though, he is surprisingly unhelpful. He claims that he can't remember where he came across the article, saying that he often picks up stray newspapers for wrapping and packing purposes for the shop.

Well, you suppose you'll have to save it for later then.

Also among the pile of papers in the drawer, there's a short blurb announcing the opening of the Kim Morgue and Crematorium. Taking a closer look at the date tells you that Taehyung's practice has actually been passed down through nearly three generations.

Technically, Taehyung is actually Taehyung III, taking the same name as his father and grandfather and great-grandfather before him.

But it's the photo you stumble upon that really stalls your breath.

A portrait, faded and yellowing, dated almost seventy-five years ago. The subject is a man dressed in a brown suit and tie, his hair dark and curly, except it looks exactly like him. From the Roman slant of his nose, down to the way he positions his shoulders, it looks almost indistinguishable from the Taehyung of today. The family resemblance is apparently very strong.

And again, it's a little embarrassing how long it takes you to reach the conclusion that to others, especially to the supernaturally-inclined, might seem obvious.

But you've already mentioned that you're a bit of a skeptic.

october 28, 2004

You fear that you may be going a bit crazy.

The dreams are getting worse. They've escalated from simple images and sounds to corporeal sensations. You feel the water so sharply, the cold, the current, even the vibrations. You can see hands reaching towards you, and sometimes you are compelled to reach back. Sometimes you swear you wake up smelling of seawater.

And the itchy feeling of being watched has only gotten stronger. You feel as though you're always looking over your shoulder, always listening for following footsteps.

In the past few days, you've used your research as an effective distraction.

You've found that the Kim family has run the morgue out of the Addams house for almost as long as the Jung family has owned it, Taehyung hailing from a long line of coroners and forensic pathologists rooted in Farrow's End.

With a little digging, you discovered that the Jungs have been business tycoons for decades, buying and selling and trading their vast number of industries to generate a near endless stream of income that they then hand down to their children and children's children.

Unfortunately, most of the knowledge on the Jung family is circulated through the townsfolk, so you have to ask around a bit to get a more solid basis.

The current owner of the Addams house is one Jung Hoseok. Young, beautiful, and filthy rich, according to those you spoke with on the streets. But, apparently he spent most of his youth in a mental hospital. Not only a mental hospital, a high-security facility for the criminally insane.

Now, you're not sure how much of that you believe, but you still have to entertain the possibility.

And one day, you even catch sight of him. A small crowd tends to gather whenever the black Mercedes pulls into town, curious eyes prying into the tinted windows.

You're lingering outside the bookshop one afternoon, making sure you didn't leave anything behind after a four-hour-long research session, when the car rolls through the streets like a slinky black cat.

Whispers immediately fill the air, causing you to look up from your bag, which is bursting at the seams these days from all the papers you have to carry around.

The car stops at the curb in front of the cafe, the driver soon killing the engine. Then, the driver's side door opens, and a black-booted foot steps onto the sidewalk.

The man is handsome, you have to admit, with long black hair that curls at the nape of his neck. His face is sharp and angular, with a softly heart-shaped mouth and surprisingly bright eyes.

He's dressed in pressed pants and jacket, thin and elegant. The man walks into the cafe and picks up a to-go order, gets back into his car, and drives away without so much as a glance at all the people who have stopped to stare at him.

You being one of them, but you're fairly certain that you're the only one who takes a few pictures.

But it wasn't until yesterday that you started to really feel like you were losing your marbles.

As you're asking around town, you breach the subject of the town's forensic pathologist. Everyone you speak to has nothing but good things to say about the young coroner, except for the fact that he isn't as young as you thought he was.

You ask a woman you struck up a conversation with outside the grocery store about the Kim family, and she says that Taehyung did a fantastic job taking care of her nephew for his funeral.

You agree, mentioning your admiration for how educated he is for someone so young.

That's when the woman's face turns puzzled. "Young?" she says, raising an eyebrow. She goes on to say that the most recent Kim Taehyung has been running the morgue for the last twenty years.

"Taehyung III?" you ask. "Thin, dark eyes, looks a bit like a Roman statue?"

"Yes, that's the one. Took over the family business after his father died. But no children, I hear he's training a young apprentice that will likely take over when he retires."

You mention that surely Taehyung has time to have children, but that same confused expression crosses her face.

"Isn't he nearly seventy though?"

A squirmy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You awkwardly brush off the woman, apologizing for the confusion.

You ask almost every other passerby you see on the street that evening about the town coroner, and they all say the same thing. A kind man, very good at his job, and most definitely in his late sixties.

They all insist that there hasn't been a young Kim in the business since Taehyung was a trainee nearly thirty years prior.

So you do a little more digging, and turns out it's true. If you'd have looked a little closer at the dates on all of Taehyung's degrees and certificates, you'd find that he acquired them all between fifteen and twenty-five years ago.

You're tailing him the next morning. You got lucky, today being one of the rare days when he leaves the Addams house to go into town.

He steps out of the hearse in leather shoes and a sweater vest under his trenchcoat. You suppose he dresses like he's older, from the way he tucks in his shirt and cuffs his pants, but he also sports a crossbody bag over his shoulder that others would most likely consider feminine, but he pulls it off effortlessly.

The clouds are letting down a light rain, leaving dewdrops on your jacket and making Taehyung's hair appear just a bit fluffier.

There's that same streak of gray from his hairline. The only indicator that he possibly isn't an attractive man in his late twenties/early thirties.

But that's exactly what you're looking at. Not an older man with aged skin and silver hair, rather more like a bronze god with a mop of black curls. And the only sign of age from knowledge or experience is deep in his eyes.

You begin to follow him down the street, sneaking pictures occasionally, curious what would happen if you were to show said pictures to others. Would they still see an old man? Or would they see the young one you've been seeing from the beginning?

You get the odd sensation that you're being watched, but from a source you can't name, since you're fairly certain Taehyung hasn't noticed you.

It's as you're nearing the end of the sidewalk, slipping in-between a cluster of people, that he suddenly stops dead in his tracks.

You stop too, a cold chill latching onto your spine. He stands there for a moment, perfectly still.

Then, he turns over his shoulder and looks right at you.

There haven't been many times in your career where you're genuinely shocked speechless. And even fewer when your target is not only fully aware of the fact that you're trailing them, but apparently isn't bothered in the slightest by it.

Because then a smirk is creeping onto his face. Those tiger eyes turn a shade darker, and he nods his head slightly as if to greet you.

He knew you were watching him, they all did.

The ice under your skin only intensifies when you hear the click of a camera shutter from behind you.

Whipping around, you see Jung Hoseok standing just a few feet away, a camera held up to his face and the brim of his hat tilted down, but you know it's him.

And the lens is pointed at you.

What's strange is that no one else seems to notice him. Every other time you've seen him in town, everyone stops to stare, but now they slide around him like he isn't even there, their eyes looking right through him.

Something weird is definitely going on.

You dissolve back into the crowd like a ghost.

october 29, 2004

A letter appears on your doorstep. The stationary is soft and expensive-looking, with your name scrawled on the front in curling script. With no return address.

It's enclosed with a red wax seal, stamped with the image of a crow.

You debate on whether or not to open it for approximately three minutes.

Dearest _______,

We cordially invite you to the Addams House for dinner, dancing, and drinks on October 30 at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Please bring your case notes for discussion.

Dress code: semi-formal.

Fondly,

Jung Hoseok

The back of the paper reads:

How do you accept this invitation?

➳ With enthusiasm

➳ With excitement

You think about it for about thirty seconds. Circling "with enthusiasm," you slip the paper back into the envelope and set it back outside where you found it.

It's gone the next morning.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear any of your thoughts! 👉👈

#bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts series #bts mystery #bts x fem!reader #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts poly au #bts poly x reader #bts fic

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