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#it's only brought on by massive amounts of stupidity i swear
brewed-pangolin · 9 months
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What's the point?
Why are we here?
If I left, would it change anything?
Probably not.
Existential crisis?
No.
Just me trying to figure out why some moron is driving slow in the left lane and steadily moving me towards vehicular madness and violence.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years
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He’s so baby girl I swear- this is purely random Vash stuff
Vash never fails to make his affection known, whether platonic or otherwise, so it’s not so out of the ordinary for moments when he’s feeling a little mischievous and decided to sneak up on you -somehow with those heavy arse boots of his- and this can go one of two ways:
A) cage you with his arms and blow raspberries into your neck
Or
B) initiate a tickle war that utilises the town that you were temporarily staying at to act as an massive game hide and seek from the other person trying to tickle you.
It’s childish and stupid but you could never say no to someone with as someone with as big of an heart as Vash did. You swore he was too good for anybody even you but you don’t dare to say so within his presence as you didn’t wish to see his face full with dishearten. Ever. It didn’t look right on Vash.
Also after your ‘truces’ you spent the rest of your day with cheap but good as shit pizza and snuggles. (I’m so fucking lonely)
Speaking of snuggles, I’d like to think that Vash clings onto you very much like a koala bear in his sleep. Going so far as to whine when you manage to tangle yourself free from his stronghold; which only works out for you 50% of the time because there was nothing that brought you more peace then being in Vash’s arms.
They made you feel safe, protected, comforted and most of all, warm. The moment you were caged again this chest, in little to no time you were already drifting off to slumber land.
The same can be said for when Vash wished to be held against your chest. It quite comedic to see him cuddled up closely to you. His blonde hair tickling just under your chin but it was all worth to when hearing him sigh tiredly and nuzzled his head into the junction of your neck, his grip on your waist tightening briefly before relaxing as you run the fingers of one hand across his forearm whilst the other played with the tresses of his hair, nails barely scratching at his scalp.
You swore you heard him make the sound equivalent of a cats purr at the base of his throat.
You called him babygirl pretty boy once and the shocking amounts of shades of red he turned that day became the highlight of your life.
Dates with Vash would be so inexplicably…Vash and no that’s not a bad thing. Given the fact that he’s a wanted man with a sixty million bounty on his head, no place of work would take the risk and have him on board if they knew what’s good for them.
So instead of the stereotypical date night, you both would share the view of the starry night sky up on the rooftops with a scratchy blanket thrown over your shoulders. It was an perfectly imperfect date, much like the perfectly imperfect man sat next to you grinning ear to ear like an excited child.
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Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 7 | S.R
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Not my gif
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Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N - sorry it has been so long since I updated this, I have not have the impetus to write this fic but I am trying to restart it. Massive thank you to @reidselle for encouraging me to start writing this again and for reading chapters and discussing ideas with me, you are an angel 🖤
Chapter Summary - Spencer’s still reeling from the aftermath of his drunken mistake. With Luke’s words playing on his mind, he starts to realise his feelings towards his broken marriage aren’t as black and white as he thought.
Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.
Warnings - mentions of affairs, Spencer questions everything, swearing.
WC - 5.1k
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Chapter 7 - All At Once
And all at once the crowd begins to sing,
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.
Maybe you want her, maybe you need her,
Maybe you started to compare to someone not there. 
The weekend's events had taken so much out of Spencer he didn’t have a chance to call you and apologise for his drunken behaviour. 
In fact, if he was perfectly honest, with everything else going on he’d completely pushed it to the back of his mind. 
On Sunday he spent the day at the mall with the girls in an attempt to cheer Daisy up. 
Spencer loathed shopping. He only went shopping when he absolutely had to. Malls were too busy for his liking and most things were overpriced. But Daisy and Lily loved to shop, mostly because it wasn’t their hard earned money they were spending. 
He spent the day traipsing after them, lugging bags full of their hauls around while they ran from shop to shop excitedly. 
He practically brought Daisy a whole new wardrobe while Lily damn near put the toy store out of business. 
They ate pretzels in the food court while Spencer rested his aching arms from being their designated bag carrier. 
Lily fell asleep on the car ride home surrounded by all her new toys while Daisy excitedly looked over her new clothes. 
He spent hundreds of dollars trying to make up for the way Maeve had hurt her. He even let the girls talk him into buying an even bigger, plusher and more expensive bed for a dog he hated who never slept in his own bed anyway. 
By the time they made it home he was exhausted. He was too tired to cook so he ordered pizza which they ate in the living room while they rewatched Encanto for what had to be the fiftieth time. 
When he put them to bed they were both singing We Don’t Talk About Bruno, which Spencer also had stuck in his head when he crawled into his own bed. 
He also found himself humming it absent-mindedly in the shower the next morning, mentally cursing his girls for making him sit through that movie again. 
It was still whirring its way around his brain while he made the girls breakfast. 
He drove them to school after breakfast and dropped Taco off at the kennel and it was only after he was finally alone, his thoughts fell back to his monumentally stupid drunken mistake. 
Checking his watch and seeing he had time before he had to be on campus he made a pit stop at the florists. 
It was a good job he had time to spare because he spent an unfathomable amount of time staring at a wide variety of flowers in various colours.
He must have looked utterly lost as a young girl soon came over and asked if he needed help. 
Yes, he most certainly did. 
“I uh…I need something that says I’m sorry.” He toyed awkwardly with the strap of his satchel. 
The girl gave him a slightly playful smile. 
“You wouldn’t believe how often we get people in here looking for the exact same thing.” 
“What would you recommend?” 
“Well, lilies are great for apologising as they can express a new chapter. But roses are really romantic. White orchids are also good as they represent sincerity. And blue hyacinths look stunning in an apology bouquet.” She motioned around the various flowers she was describing while Spencer stared wide eyed in confusion. 
“Uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “All of them. Just put all of them in a bouquet. A huge one. It doesn’t matter what it costs.” 
“Sure.” She looked a little startled by his choice, most guys just went for whatever was cheapest. 
She admired his decision. 
Spencer tapped his foot in the ground while the girl went about fashioning a giant bouquet of whites and blues and reds and yellows. 
She tied them all off in a big red ribbon and looked proud by her creation. 
Admittedly it did look beautiful and Spencer knew next to nothing about flower arranging. 
He paid two hundred dollars for the privilege and thanked the young girl before hurrying out of the store barely able to see over the large array. 
He quickly stopped at a coffee house and ordered an extra large cinnamon latte which was your favourite. 
The flowers took up the whole front seat of the car and the smell was overwhelming so he had to drive with the windows open. 
He felt heads turning and eyebrows furrowed into frowns as he got out of his car with the huge bouquet. It was like a large flashing beacon that he’d fucked up. 
He tried to ignore all the eyes on him as he waited for you outside the psychology building, flowers in one hand, coffee in the other. 
The weather was desperately trying to warm up and was slowly succeeding and the morning sun beating down on him made sweat gather at his temples. 
The nerves didn’t help. 
You couldn’t have looked any less amused when you spotted him, only just able to see him over the almost comically large bunch of flowers. 
If he wasn’t standing right outside the building you needed access to, you would have walked any other direction to avoid him. 
You clenched your jaw tightly and hugged your purse close to your body as you approached him. 
“I’m sorry.” He spoke the second you were in earshot. “I am so, so sorry. I was drunk, not that that’s an excuse but I was. I had a bad day and I was a fucking idiot. I am so, so sorry Y/N.” 
You didn’t say anything. Not a word. Honestly you didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t either be fuck you or go to hell. 
He proffered the flowers towards you. 
“I’m really, really sorry.” He pouted a little.
He did look apologetic, almost pathetically so and there was a part of you that felt sorry for him. 
Not a big enough part to forgive him though. 
You took the flowers from his hand and Spencer momentarily believed things were going to be ok. 
But then you dropped the bouquet on the floor and stamped heavily on them with your heeled boot.
You didn’t stop there. 
You took the coffee out of his hand, removed the lid and poured the scalding liquid all over the crushed pile of flowers.
Spencer’s face fell.
“Oh come on, that was two hundred dollars worth of flowers.” He groaned, shoulders slumping. 
“You think coffee and flowers are going to make up for what you did?” You spat at him. 
“Not entirely. But I thought it might be a start.” He shrugged meekly, toying with his satchel. 
“Well it isn’t.” You stomped on the flowers again. “You were a world class asshole, Spencer. You do not get to show up at my apartment drunk in the middle of night and try to force me into bed! And the things you said to me…I am not a fling. I am not looking to be a casual hook up and if that’s all you want then you should find someone else.” 
“Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to-“
“Go to hell, Doctor Reid.” You cut him off, stamping on the flowers one more time for good measure. “Respectfully, go to hell.” 
He watched you storm past him inside the building, knowing nothing he could say was going to make this better. 
He’d really fucked this one up. And he had no idea how to fix it.
***
He left a cinnamon latte for you every single day for the next week in Monroe’s classroom. 
He left post it notes on your car that told you how sorry he was. 
He tried at every available opportunity to tell you to your face how sorry he was but every time you caught a glimpse of him, you would turn and walk in the opposite direction. 
He didn’t blame you. But he wished you would give him a chance to explain. 
Not that there was much to explain. He was drunk and he’d been forceful. He’d said horrible things to you. 
An explanation wasn’t really warranted. 
But that didn’t mean he was going to give up. He wasn’t giving you up without a fight. 
It didn’t matter that the two of you had only been on one date, you were all he could think about. You’d left a lasting impression in his heart and he wasn’t letting you just walk away. 
But he knew he couldn’t keep pushing you. You had to want to talk to him. If he kept trying to force you forgive him, he would end up pushing you away. 
He had to give it time and hope that you would come to forgive him on your own. 
In lieu of making things up with you, he had made up with Luke, even if slightly begrudgingly. 
They’d talked on the phone for the best part of a whole evening after the girls were asleep. Luke apologised for the way things had come out. He hadn’t meant them quite as they sounded 
Spencer in turn apologised for reacting the way he had, even though he still felt he was completely justified. 
Luke surprised him somewhat when he asked him, “did you ever really deal with Maeve’s affair?” 
“What do you mean?” Spencer frowned, putting his feet up on his desk and leaning back in his chair. 
“When you talk about it, you always talk about the effect it had on your kids but never how it affected you.” Luke was in full on profiler mode. Spencer had heard that voice countless times. 
“The fact that it affected my kids, affected me.” Spencer’s frown deepened. 
“I know you say it was a marriage of convenience but you were together a long time, Reid. You must have had some kind of feelings for her. It must have hurt.” Luke’s tone was soft yet held a hind of accusation. 
“Not especially.” Spencer shrugged. 
“Spencer,” Luke’s timbre shifted. “The woman you spent a large portion of your life with cheated on you. Your house is still like a goddamn shrine to the life you used to have. And you’ve never gotten over your anger towards her. I think that’s because she hurt you more than you want to admit. You like to pretend you didn’t love her and that you’re unaffected by what happened because you think it’s easier to deal with if you pretend it doesn’t hurt. But sometimes, pain needs to be felt.” 
“Have you ever thought about being a therapist?” Spencer rolled his eyes and sat up in the chair. “I’m fine Luke. I’m angry because she tore my family apart. I’m angry because my kids now only get to see their mother twice a month. I’m angry because I had to reevaluate my whole life after she left. 
But I’m not hurt, I’m not heartbroken. And my house is not a shrine. I work and when I’m not working I’m taking care of my daughters and now some stupid dog too. I’ve been meaning to call Morgan to help me renovate it. I just haven’t had time.” 
“If you insist.” Luke sighed. “I won’t keep pushing it. But just know I’m here if you ever need to talk.” 
“I know. Thanks. But I really am fine.” Spencer stood up and stretched his back. “I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah no worries. Talk soon.” Luke replied and then hung up. 
Spencer kept his phone in his hand and typed out a quick text to you, almost identical to the ones he’d sent you every night this week. 
📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I’m still so sorry. I miss you. Please talk to me. Goodnight, beautiful. 
He checked in on the girls who were both sleeping soundly before having a quick shower and crawling into his own bed. 
And once again, he dreamt of you. 
***
It was probably for the best that you weren’t talking to him and that he hadn’t made plans with you for his child free weekend because he didn’t get a child free weekend. 
He picked Lily and Daisy up from school on Friday and drove them to Maeve’s only for Daisy to refuse to get out of the car. 
“Pumpkin, it’s your weekend with your mom, you have to go.” Spencer turned in his seat to face her. 
“No.” She spoke stubbornly. “I don’t want to see her.”
“You can’t stay mad at her forever.” Spencer leaned over the centre console and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“Yes I can.” She huffed. 
“Why don’t you want to see mommy?” Lily spoke up from the backseat. 
“Because I hate her.” Daisy stomped her foot on the floor. 
“Daisy, please don’t say that in front of your sister.” 
“Why? It’s true.” 
Spencer sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 
“What about if Taco comes to mommy’s with you?” It would be doing him a favour too. 
“Yes! Let’s go get Taco!” Lily beamed. 
“No!” Daisy raised her voice. “I’m not going in there and you can’t make me!” 
She was right, he couldn’t. 
So in the end Lily had stayed at Maeve’s and Daisy had come home with Spencer. 
It was strange just having one of the girls, it wasn’t often the two were apart. It was almost like the days before Lily was born. 
He cooked dinner for the two of them and they ate ice cream for dessert. 
Daisy sat in Spencer’s office with him, laying on the floor with Taco while he graded papers. 
Usually Spencer liked to work alone, the kids rarely came in his office. But he found the sounds of Daisy cooing over the dog relaxing and every now and again when he heard her giggle over the mutt it made his heart swell in his chest. 
“Are you having fun there, pumpkin?” He asked her with an amused smile as he scrawled some notes on one of his students papers.
“Yeah, Taco is the best.” She giggled, giving Taco a belly scratch which he adored. “And it’s nice and quiet, like before Lily was born.” 
Spencer’s pen dropped from his hand as he looked at the back of his daughter's head where she laid on her front on the floor, her thick dark hair tied up on the back of her head. 
“What?” He frowned a little, thinking he must have misunderstood her. 
She rolled over onto her back and propped herself up on her one good arm. 
“I miss it sometimes. Before Lily was born and it was just you, me and mom. Did mom have an affair because of Lily?” She asked curiously. 
Spencer tried to hide his shock, knowing his daughter could read his features. 
He pushed himself up from his chair and rounded the desk, coming over to where Daisy and Taco laid. 
He lowered himself carefully to the floor, grimacing a little as an ache spread through the old injury in his leg. 
He sat next to her, stretching his legs out across the dark carpet. 
“What your mom did was neither of your faults. You know that, don’t you?” 
Daisy shrugged. 
“Why did you have Lily? I miss being an only child.” She changed the subject. 
“She’s your sister, don’t say that, please.” 
“We were happy before Lily.” Daisy shrugged again, crossing her legs and pulling Taco into her lap. 
“And we were happy after Lily too.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she instinctively leaned into her fathers body. 
“Do you think mom would have cheated on you if you didn’t have Lily?” 
“I don’t know, pumpkin.” He sighed, pulling her closer. “But Lily isn’t the reason she cheated. And neither are you. I guess…I guess I just couldn’t make her happy.” 
“It’s not that I don’t love Lily.” Daisy tugged at Taco’s ear. “I just miss having all of your love.” 
Spencer felt his heart tear in half. He moved his hand from around her shoulder and cupped her jaw gently, guiding her to look at him. 
“Daisy,” he spoke seriously. “Just because I love your sister, it didn’t for a second make me love you any less, ok? You’re my baby girl, the first time I held you in my arms I felt like I could breathe properly for the first time in my life. The first time you looked at me, I finally knew the reason I was put on this Earth. And that was to love you and be your father. Please never think I could love you any less. You are my whole world ok, pumpkin?”
He felt choked up by the end of his speech and he noticed Daisy had tears in her eyes. 
She was quick to sit back and wipe her eyes on her sleeve. 
“God, mushy much dad?” She scoffed and Spencer chucked. 
He leaned in and placed another kiss at her temple. 
“Love you too, pumpkin.” He laughed against her skin. 
***
Spencer found Luke’s words were taking up too much space in his brain. 
When he awoke Saturday morning he laid in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and just enjoying a moment of peace before Daisy woke up. 
Although it wasn’t all that peaceful.
He was ruminating on Luke’s implications of him living in a shrine. 
It wasn’t as though Spencer meant to do that. He really hadn’t had the time to even think about redecorating. 
Ok, maybe that wasn’t true. He had thought about it, quite often in fact. But there was always some kind of blocker between the thought and the action. For whatever reason, he’d never gotten over that hurdle of actually making a change. 
But it wasn’t because he was clinging to his old life. He didn’t pine over his broken marriage, he didn’t wish for Maeve to see sense and come home. 
But maybe there was a small chance that the reason he’d held off for so long was partly due to the fact that once he changed the house, there was no going back. 
If he decorated it was effectively shattering his dreams of the future he’d planned even though, really, those dreams had been destroyed over a year ago. 
Had he really been grasping at his old life so hard and not even realised? 
Something had to change. 
After breakfast he and Daisy went to the hardware store and he let her pick out a new paint for the living room. 
It wasn’t much but it was a start. It was something to prove he wasn’t living in a shrine to his ex-wife. 
Initially she’d chosen a gawdy bright green shade but thankfully Spencer had talked her down to a much more eye pleasing sage.  
The two of them spent the day painting the room, well Spencer did most of it while Daisy kept getting distracted by Taco. And Daisy did only have one good arm, which she kept reminding him. 
But by the time he was finished he felt accomplished. The new colour was much more his style than the buttermilk yellow Maeve had painted the walls when they moved in. 
The only room he’d really aided in decorating was his office with its dark walls, leather desk chair and dark oak desk and bookshelves. 
He’d still be working at the BAU when they moved in and as such wasn’t around much to help make decorating decisions. 
He’d never disliked the way she’d designed the house but maybe it never quite felt like home as it should have. 
The sage green walls felt more cosy. It was reminiscent of his old apartment, the apartment he’d loved so much. He felt comfortable with a darker aesthetic, which was probably strange but to Spencer it felt more homely. 
Spencer always felt more at ease in darkness, he decided not to dwell too long on that thought and what that meant about his mental state. 
He should call Morgan and have him gut this place and start again from scratch. But he wasn’t quite ready to take that step. And not because he was pining over his old life. 
He didn’t know why. But not everything needed to have a reason. 
Once the painting was done and feeling much more satisfied with his living situation, he cooked dinner for the two of them and after he let Daisy choose a movie which he fell asleep halfway through. 
The closing credits woke him and he rubbed his eyes before focusing on Daisy who had her smartphone pointing at him. 
“What are you doing?” He grumbled, feeling the weight of the dog was laying on his chest. 
“Taking pictures.” She giggled. 
“Why?” He shuffled up the couch a little. 
“You look funny.” She snapped one more picture before her dad got mad. 
“How do I look funny?” He scooted the dog off of him and sat up properly, rubbing his eyes again. 
“See for yourself.” She handed him her phone and he stared at the photograph of his sleeping form, mangy dog sleeping soundly on him. 
But that’s not what he was looking at. 
“For the love of god!” He groaned, jumping up and dashing to the mirror by the door. 
“The paint must still have been wet.” Daisy giggled again. 
Spencer had two very distinctive sage coloured doggy paw prints on his face and many more covering his shirt. 
He glanced around and saw a spot on the wall near the TV where the idiotic mutt had put his front paws in the wet paint. 
There was a trail of the sage prints in the carpet from the wall to the couch. 
“This is why I didn’t want a freaking dog.” Spencer huffed as he made his way to the kitchen to clean his face. “What time is it?” 
“Uh…eight?” Daisy sounded unsure of herself. 
“Which means it’s actually later than that and you don’t want to tell me because you don’t want to go to bed.” He chuckled, wiping his face with some kitchen paper. 
“No.” Daisy whined. “Not true.” 
“You know I’m wearing a watch, right?” As he said this he glanced at it and saw it was a little after ten. “Bedtime missy.” 
“Boo!” Daisy sulked. 
He finished up cleaning his face, thankful the paint seemed to come off easily and came back through to the living room where his stubborn daughter sat vigil on the couch. 
“Come on, pumpkin. I can read to you if you like? We haven’t done that in a while.” 
She pulled a face like she was contemplating this for a moment or two. 
“Can Taco come to bed with me?” 
“Sure, why not. It’s not like I’ve brought him two dog beds or anything.” He sighed. 
Daisy happily picked up the little dog and carried him upstairs where she set him on her bed. 
Spencer sat with him while she went through to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. 
He tucked her in and Taco curled up by her side. 
Spencer slotted himself on the small part of the empty mattress that was left and Daisy handed him a book. 
He read to her until she was sound asleep, snoring a little. She got that from her mother. 
He kissed her forehead and switched off the light before creeping from the room. 
He thought about having a drink but he was still ashamed of his actions the last time he drank so he decided against it. 
He pulled out his phone as he flopped to the couch and sent you a text. 
📲 Y/N Y/L/N: I really am so sorry. Please can we talk? I miss your voice. Goodnight, beautiful. 
Spencer stared at the freshly painted wall and the paw prints left in it, still having Luke’s words swirling around his brain. 
He didn’t love Maeve. He wasn’t heartbroken over her infidelity. He didn’t need to deal with what she’d done because he hadn’t affected him. Had it? 
Somehow he found himself on his feet and moving books aside on the bookshelf that shielded his gun safe. 
He hadn’t actually kept a gun in it for years, not since he left the bureau. But old habits die hard. 
He entered the combination and opened the thick metal door. His hand shook a little as he pulled out the photo album kept hidden inside. 
It was white once but was dirtied from fingerprints over the years. It was a little scuffed around the edges but that was probably from him stuffing it inside the safe that was just a little too small for it. 
Spencer didn’t know why he kept in there. He supposed it was because he didn’t want the kids stumbling across it and having to look at it before he was ready, before he had the capacity to take this particular trip down memory lane. 
He hadn’t even thought about the album in the year since he’d put it in there. He’d physically locked it away whilst mentally locking away the memories that went with the photographs. 
He took it back over to the couch and tentatively flipped to the first page. 
The first photograph depicted an unusually sunny fall day outside of DC city hall. Spencer wore a suit from his closet and Maeve wore a simple white summer dress, her pregnant belly very noticeable with the slim fitting nature of the dress. 
They both smiled brightly while Morgan snapped the photograph of them showing off their matching gold wedding bands, Spencer’s free hand cupping her stomach that housed baby Daisy. 
He saw no doubts in his eyes, no hint that he was only marrying this woman because he’d gotten her pregnant. He looked genuinely elated to be married. He didn’t remember ever feeling that happy. 
On the next page was a series of photos with the backdrop of a hospital room. 
Images of Spencer fussing over Maeve while she was in labour, a slightly fretful look on his features. 
There was a photo of Maeve with the newborn on her chest, seconds after she was born and Daisy was held by her mother for the first time. 
Another of Spencer in the worn leather chair next to the bed with the tiny seven pound baby cradled in his arms as tears streamed down his cheeks. 
There were a couple more of the three of them together in the hospital room and as they left the hospital the following day, Spencer and Maeve held hands while his free one carried Daisy in her rocker. 
The look on Spencer’s face in each one could only be described as pure bliss. 
There were pictures of Daisy with each member of her new family, with her Aunties Emily, JJ and Penelope and her Uncles Derek and Aaron and grandpa Dave. 
There were photographs from a few weeks later when they’d travelled to Vegas so Diana could meet her granddaughter. 
Diana’s smile when she held Daisy for the first time was the brightest he’d ever seen on his mother. She’d been lucid that day, thank god, and had cried and cooed over the gorgeous little bundle her son had created. 
Other photographs of Daisy’s first steps, her first time on the potty, her first Christmas and birthdays littered the pages. 
Birthday cakes and presents wrapped for a child too young to understand what they were. 
Gaudy Christmas jumpers set against the backdrop of an overly decorated tree. Paper hats from crackers adorned on heads. A small child overstimulated by a holiday she couldn’t comprehend. 
And in every single one he and Maeve looked so happy. The images showed them sharing loving looks, exchanging soft touches. 
If the photos didn’t exist, Spencer wouldn’t have believed it. His memories didn’t allow him to recall the joyful moments, only the hurt and the anger. 
Even as he looked at them he struggled to remember ever feeling the way the man in the photographs looked. 
The further into the album he got showed Maeve’s belly growing for the second time and more hospital photographs with Lily featuring Aunty Tara, and Uncles Luke and Matt. 
More holiday photos lined the pages, this time with Daisy helping her sister open her presents. 
Lots of photos of the two girls together riddled the pages. Daisy holding Lily’s hand while she learnt to walk, Daisy reading to her little sister. Daisy cuddling her new little sister and beaming proudly. 
They looked like the perfect family, smiling for the camera. But what was hiding beneath? Were they ever really happy at all? 
About a year after Lily’s birth, the photographs just stopped. The empty pages at the end of the album taunted Spencer. 
They just stopped. Ended with no warning. It was as though all the happy, smiling faces of the pages before had died. 
Maybe they had. 
Tensions had been high between him and Maeve after Spencer gave up the BAU. He resented Maeve and to a certain extent his beautiful daughter, for having to give up a job he adored. 
He was frustrated and exhausted all the time. He was making less money at Georgetown, which didn’t matter so much in the present as he had a substantial amount of savings, but not enough to send two kids to college. His future problems crossed over into his present day. 
It took its toll on Spencer. He went to work, came home and doted on his daughters and barely said two words to Maeve. 
He had a quick temper. His exhaustion manifested in anger and when he did talk to Maeve it was usually to argue with her about something. 
He’d been distant, far away even when he was at home, and she’d been lonely. So she met Bobby who made her feel wanted. 
Could he blame her for that? Was Luke right? He hadn’t been attentive to his wife and so she’d sought comfort elsewhere. Was it his fault she’d strayed? Had he pushed her to it? 
He flipped the album back to the first page to their wedding photo. Was he to blame in all of this? 
He was so wrapped up in his self pity, the knock at the door startled him. 
He frowned to himself as he pushed himself to his feet and padded over to the door. 
Who was knocking at his house so late at night? 
He unlocked the door and cautiously it opened a fraction so he could see who was on the other side before he committed to opening it. 
His frown only deepened when he looked into a familiar pair of eyes staring back at him from the dark. 
He opened the door fully and braced himself against the door jamb. 
“Y/N,” he swallowed. “What are you doing here?” 
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icequeenlila · 1 year
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A Son for a Son
After Neteyam's death, Lo'ak keeps praying to Eywa to take his life for his brother's. He knows his efforts are in vain, until one night he is heard. A life for a life. A son for a son. Only it is so much more than that. Or: A Lo'ak centered fic that also brings back Neteyam. It's basically how everyone would react to Lo'ak's sacrifice. There's gonna be a happy ending, but first everyone must suffer. (We live for the Angst!)
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Chapter 1: Yes, Sir
Life went on and Lo’ak kept telling himself that it should have been him. The bullet should have hit him. He should have been the one to die.
But he didn't.
And the very thought of that, kept him awake at night.
It's been months. Neteyam had long been sent back to Eywa. His mother was still visiting Spirit Tree every day. She tried so hard but her grief was strong and visible to all of the kids.
His father kept himself occupied, helping out around the village or taking Tuk on trips through the water to get her mind off her brother's loss for a while.
Kiri often wandered off alone, exploring the island, connecting with nature. Most times she wouldn't even want Spider to join her. She wasn't allowed to connect to Spirit Tree. She knew it could kill her, but it meant she would never be able to visit Neteyam like their parents did. Kiri and their father had a huge fight about it, before she had to swear to stay away from it. She wasn't even allowed to enter the cove of the ancestors. They didn't talk for days after that.
Lo’ak never went there with his parents. He didn't dare to. He blamed himself, and he knew his father did too.
“You've done enough.”
His father's voice still haunted him. Lo’ak didn't even dare to look him in the eye anymore. He was too ashamed.
Still, he went to visit Spirit Tree. He did it late at night, after making sure he was alone there. But he wouldn't seek out Neteyam. He was afraid to face his brother, even in the afterlife. Scared to hear the very words, he kept repeating inside his head again and again and again, out of Neteyam's mouth: "It's your fault."
So, instead of seeking out Neteyam, Lo’ak prayed to Eywa.
“Take me”, he told her inside his mind. “Take my life and give him back!”
He knew it was pointless. Eywa couldn't make them switch places. It was not her way. Lo’ak knew that.
But it was the only thing that somehow gave him the smallest amount of peace. At least he tried. He knew it was in vain, but at least he tried to bring his brother back. To pay for the damage he's caused.
Lo’ak kept coming to the cove whenever he found the opportunity to do so. He lay on his mat, pretending to sleep until late in the night, waiting for his family to fall asleep. He would make sure they wouldn't wake up to notice his absence, slipping out of their marui and right into the water as to not be seen by anybody.
This kept on for months. And nothing ever happened. Of course, it didn't.
But this small spark of stupid hope, as impossible as it seemed, was the one thing that kept Lo’ak from collapsing under this massive guilt he felt.
Neteyam was gone. He was gone and he would never return to his family, and Lo’ak knew that. But he would pay for the rest of his life. He would keep praying to Eywa and it would kill him time and time again.
He would spend his life praying to take his brother's place.
“I won't connect to it, I promise!”, Kiri said, her eyes big and her ears twitching. “Just please let me go. Everyone is going to Spirit Tree.” She looked at her father with a mixed expression. Her eyes were pleading, but her mouth was curved in a stoic way. She looked almost desperate.
Lo’ak sat at the fire place, helping his mother with the food. He watched the both of them out the corner of his eye.
His father's tail flicked in annoyance. “Kiri, I told you it's too dangerous”, he half growled. His shoulders were hunched but drawn tight, his jaw stiff and visible underneath blue skin.
Kiri brought up her hands, balling them into fists while groaning in frustration. “But I said, I promise not to connect myself!” She was actually screaming now, her eyes drawn to slits and her teeth bare. “I just want to be there! I want to feel somewhat close to him!” Her eyes were filling with tears now, her tail flicking around in frustration.
“Dad, please”, she pleaded, the tears winning over now, her hands falling and arms wrapping around herself.
Lo’ak felt a sting inside his chest at the sight of his sister.
Your fault, his father's voice flashed through his head. He hissed quietly at himself, biting the inside of his cheek to calm down.
His mother noticed, mustering his face in silence.
She was silent all the time now.
Another flash of guilt run through Lo’ak as he realized he'd upset his mum. He flicked a quick look at her, before narrowing his ears and lowering his head, concentrating on cutting the fruit she had given him.
Your fault, he hissed inside his mind. Keep it together!
He felt a warm hand caressing his neck, startling him. He looked up again to find his mother looking at him with a tired smile on her lips.
She smiled at him in a try of comfort. Guilt flaring up again. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve her affection, the way she looked at him. Warm. Lovingly. But he also couldn't bring himself to pull away.
His mother's hand wandered over his temple, towards the strands of hair that were always hanging into his face. With gentle fingers, she brushed them behind his ear, her thumb running softly over his cheekbone like she'd done when he'd been still a child.
Lo’ak bit himself again to fight the tingle he suddenly felt in his eyes. He felt so undeserving of her affection, but still he craved it like air underwater.
“Kiri, please”, his father's voice caught his attention again. “I only want to keep you safe.”
“But-“
“Ma Jake”, his mother finally spoke, her voice soft. Weak almost.
Both of them shut up immediately. In fact, his mother had grown so silent that they were all shocked to hear her speak.
“Yes”, his father replied, his eyes big and awaiting her words.
“We should let Kiri go”, she said, her hand slipping from Lo’ak's cheek. He looked down at the fruit again, fighting the coldness that suddenly spread inside him.
He heard his father's sigh. “You know what happened last time.”
“I said, I won't do it again!”
His mum stood up, leaving Lo’ak's side. Leaving him alone.
Shut up, he told himself.
“She misses her brother, Jake.” He watched his mother reaching out for his father's shoulder. “She promised to stay away. Put some trust into your daughter.”
Jake's lips pressed into a tight line, but his mate's voice alone was enough to make him reconsider his point.
Kiri noticed the conflict on her father's face, her ears twitching in excitement, her eyes jumping between her parents.
“Jake.” Neytiri reached for his cheek.
Lo’ak averted his eyes immediately, crossing gaze with his sister who wrinkled her nose in mild disgust. It actually caused him to grin a bit, and Kiri returned it, hiding her smile behind five fingers.
“Let her go”, their mother continued. “She is with Lo’ak and the others.” There was a small pause, his father still seemed skeptic. “Jake, let her mourn her brother.”
The smile vanished from both of the siblings faces. Kiri slung her arms around herself again, and Lo’ak lowered his head, pretending to cut the already shredded fruit.
There was a tired sigh coming from his father. “Good”, he said reluctantly. “You can go, Kiri.”
“Thank you!” It practically burst out of her. “Get up, skxawng!”, she called at Lo’ak. “Let's go!”
She was out the door in no time, leaving Lo’ak alone with his parents.
His father blinked in confusion, not having anticipated for his daughter to bolt like that.
Lo’ak stood up, keeping his head down. He tried to slip past his parents, without looking at them, which is why he nearly jumped when he got held back by a strong hand around his arm.
“Hey, wait a second”, his father said, gently pulling on him
Lo’ak let himself be dragged back, keeping his eyes on the floor. He felt his heart beat faster in his chest and he tried to fight it with the breathing technique he'd learned from Tsireya. He focused on his center and took deep but quiet breaths from there.
It wasn't like he was afraid of his father, it was just … Lo’ak didn't know.
Every time he looked at his dad it was like shame and guilt constricted his lungs.
“Look at me, Lo’ak”, his father demanded.
Lo’ak took one last deep breath and forced himself to face his father. He looked up at him, meeting his dad's eyes. He wasn't scared of him but this sting in his chest felt a hell of a lot like fear.
“I want you to look after your sisters”, Jake said, his voice calm but full of authority.
“Yes, Sir”, Lo’ak answered, fighting against the urge to look away.
There was no anger in his father's eyes, there never really was. But Lo’ak thought he could see disappointment in them. He could be imagining that though.
But who wouldn't be disappointed in a son like him?
Usually it would have been Neteyam to get the task of looking after his younger siblings. Lo’ak couldn't fill the whole his brother had left.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself!
“Don't stay out too long”, his father continued, his fingers still wrapped around his son's arm.
“Yes, Sir”, Lo’ak repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. It took him everything to hold his father's gaze.
His dad let go of him, his eyes studying his son's face. For a moment Lo’ak thought to see worry in them. Worry for him.
He looked away.
“Can I go now?”
His father hesitated, like there was something else he wanted to say. But in the end, he didn't.
“Yes”, he said, taking a step back. “Be safe.”
“Yes, Sir”, Lo’ak said one last time before turning around.
He left without looking back.
Jake watched his son walk away. Lo’ak's shoulders were hunched, his eyes on the ground. His tail hung lifeless from the small of his back.
Jake kept his eyes on his son until he saw him disappear behind a marui. He was still lost in thought, staring into midair when he felt Neytiri reach out for him from behind.
“You are too hard on him”, she said, her voice calm, weak almost. His wife had lost a lot of her fire since they've lost Neteyam.
Jake let out a heavy sigh, turning to face her. “I know”, he said, meeting her eyes. “I just don't know how to talk to him.” He took her hand and she immediately stepped closer. “Or what to tell him.”
Neytiri looked up to him with tired eyes. She took his hand in both of hers. “Lo’ak blames himself for …” She paused, her hands gripping tight. Jake pressed back to give her strength.
His mate gave him a sad smile before continuing.
“He blames himself for Neteyam's death”, she finally said.
“I know”, Jake said.
And he did. He remembered the broken look on Lo’ak's face, the tremble in his voice.
“You've done enough.”
Jake had regretted those words as soon as they had slipped. He'd just lost his son. He didn't want to lose another. It had all happened so fast, and he hadn't even been allowed to grieve.
It wasn't an excuse, Jake knew that. He'd tried to talk to his son, but Lo’ak seemed so far away.
“You need to talk to him”, Neytiri repeated his own thoughts, her voice still soft. But in her eyes Jake saw some of her old fire. “He needs you, Jake. He needs to hear from you that it was not his fault.”
She put both her hands over his heart, fixing him with big, wake eyes. “Because your word matters most to him.”
Jake felt his chest tighten at her words. Deep down, he knew she was right. That's what made it all so much worse.
Neytiri didn't know about the words he uttered that fatefull night.
Her eyes pierced right into him. He loved her so damn much.
“I'll talk to him when they return”, he said, putting a hand over broth of hers. “I promise I will, and I'll try my best.”
He could see her ears twitch in a pleased way, and she gave him another tired smile. “Good”, she said.
Jake wondered if he would ever see her smile as vibrantly as before. Back when their life still had been good, before they had to leave their home behind. He wondered if he would see her happy again. Her and the kids.
After giving Neytiri his promise, he offered to help with the food. A smirk flashed over her face. It was brief but it was there.
“You can hunt, Jake Sully”, she said, turning for the fire place. “But you cannot cook.”
He actually laughed at that, following her to sit down next to her at the fire. “That's because my teacher never taught me right.”
Her eyes grew big at that, her pupils widening and her mouth falling open in offense. She swatted at him, more playful than vicious.
Jake ducked, chuckling at her attack. And his heart bloomed when he heard her giggling.
“Skxawng”, she said, a smile on her lips.
“You love me like that.”
He ended up listening to her lecture on how to fold seaweed around fish the correct way. He listened intently, happy to see his wife in a lighter mood for the moment.
In the back of his mind, Jake kept thinking about what he was going to tell his son once he returned. He knew he had to apologize for his words, and he would. He would.
But how was he supposed to explain himself, without making Lo’ak hurt even more?
Maybe he didn't need to. What use was an explanation for his behavior? Lo’ak didn't need that. All he needed was to hear Jake's apology and the reassurance that his brother's death wasn't his fault.
Or at least Jake hoped so.
He kept forming sentences inside his head, scratching them again and starting over. All while trying to keep that small smile on Neytiri's face.
Little did he know, that his efforts would be in vain.
Lo'ak wouldn't come back home.
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Have a nice week!✨
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vintagemulti · 2 years
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unbreakable
pairings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader
desc: there’s a reason wedding vows include “til death do us part”. want to find out why?
warnings: smoking, gun violence, swearing, harrow (hes a warning in himself), major character death, violence, injury, torture, reader is a killer
a/n: this one took a bit longer than the others but … you’ll see why. pls pls pls like and REBLOG!! reblogs do far more for writers than likes, so pls do it! also i should probably say i don’t normally proofread my fics, so if there’s any typos just use context clues or common sense lol. writers are human too🤷🏻‍♀️
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the air outside was far colder than indoors, but the heat of an egyptian evening was still much warmer than an average day in london.
you lit your cigarette, watching the people in front of you. they partied, not seeming to even notice the absence of their host. their host, who as you turned to look back inside the house, seemed to be speaking to your husband - the tension in marc’s jaw making it apparent that his temper was shortening.
blowing the smoke out of your mouth, you rolled your eyes. whatever anton was saying, marc would be angry about it for days. whatever peace you had created could be shattered if you didn’t stay on his good side.
you brought your hand to your temple, massaging the skin between your eyebrows. you could feel the heat of the lit cigarette on your forehead, but you didn’t even care if it began to burn you.
every part of you had known it would be a bad idea to come here. not wanting to admit it - prioritising layla’s safety (and your own, by extension) over some uncomfortable feelings - had most likely done more damage to the already strained marriage.
fuck, you thought. fuck anton, fuck his stupid face and fuck his massive house. you and marc had been on a good run, the possibility of a healed marriage actually being within reach for one.
but no. anton - ever the possessive one - just had to get a dig in there. you wished you could hear what he was saying, assess the damage before it was done. even from down here, you could see marc’s clenched fists - the few scratches that were still awkwardly placed on his knuckles reopening and springing red.
“those aren’t good for you, you know.” a voice spoke from behind you.
a voice you recognised. could it be? surely not. you spun on your heel, the red shirt catching your eye before anything else. it was him.
you swallowed. “what do you want?”
“i’m sorry,” harrow said. “this won’t be pleasant for you.”
a hand grabbed you from behind, forcing you backwards with so much force you dropped the cigarette that was between your fingers.
you were an idiot. you were unarmed, taken from behind, and a few glasses of champagne down. fuck, fuck, fuck. there was no was you could overpower the person behind you - they were strong, so strong you thought even their grip could break your bones.
so you did the only thing you though to do. scream. it was a technique taught to you by your old boss - that when in doubt and unable to fight back, scream as loud as you possible could.
the scream cut through the air, louder than the music from the party. you hoped and prayed it would be loud enough for marc to hear.
harrow didn’t seem to like the amount of noise you were making, scowling at you. his frown was the last thing you saw before he raised his cane, whacking you over the head with one of the crocodile busts.
the world went black.
-
your eyes took a few blinks to adjust to the darkness of the room, the space only being illuminated by a few candles in each corner. without having to ask, you knew where you were. well - not specifically, but you knew you were inside a pyramid.
the pouding in your head was disorientating, room spinning around you for a few seconds. a ringing formed in your ears, silencing the footsteps approaching.
against the duct tape over your mouth, your breathing was hot and erratic, coming out in short spurts rather than deep breaths.
“i do apologise for the pain,” harrow spoke. “but sometimes it in necessary.”
you glared up at him, writing against the restraints on your wrists and ankles. the wooden chair creaked and groaned, tipping slightly with every movement.
“i really wouldn’t.” he mumbled.
you tried to sneer a “why” at him, but it came out as more of a muffled groan - somehow, he still seemed to understand your question.
“because you will only hurt yourself more.” harrow waved his hand as if to dismiss you.
biting back a laugh, your eyes scanned over the man. he was wearing the same as before, red shirt and matching slacks. he balanced himself on his cane, one of the crocodile heads splattered with blood - your blood.
“but i suppose,” his eyes met yours. “a mercenary doesn’t care much for pain, not when they dish it out on a regular basis.”
you swallowed. something about his tone rang off the alarm bells in your gut, unsettling you and making the hair on the back of your neck rise.
it was only now that you thought of marc and steven and layla. would they be running around cairo, trying to find you? or would they be sat with mogart, oblivious that you were even gone? you prayed it would be the first option.
“do you know where we are?” harrow asked.
you shook your head.
“we are inside the resting place of one of ammit’s most famed avatars, can you guess who?”
mumbling a sarcastic comment against the duct tape, harrow seemed to remember the barrier was there. he walked over to you, ripping the tape off with such force you thought it might have taken the top layer of your skin off.
“go fuck yourself.” you spat at him.
harrow raised his hand to you, slapping your cheek. you didn’t flinch - his hit wasn’t particularly strong.
“you’d be smart to respect me, y/n spector. or should i say, y/n grant? which do you prefer.”
“it doesn’t matter, he’ll kill you either way.” the words came less of a threat and more of a promise.
it made him laugh, a devilish, soft chuckle. “if saying that makes you feel better, then be my guest.”
a beat of silence passed; “why am i here?” you asked.
“well,” harrow breathed. “you are the easiest way to get to marc spector, unfortunately for you. i believe you have information that could help the both of us.”
instead of biting back your scoff, you let it come this time. “you want me to sell out my fucking husband?”
harrow looked at you for a moment. “he isn’t much of a husband, is he?”
you bit the inside of your cheek. “the answer is no. no, i will not rat out marc for you.”
“so you do know something,” he raised an eyebrow. “see, you’re already telling me things.”
letting your head drop between your shoulders and feeling hot blood run down your face, you resigned to silence.
“what i need to know is simple,” harrow explained. “i need you to tell me where to find ammit’s ushabti.”
you felt a laugh crawl up your throat, pulling at your vocal chords and scratch past your lips. “go fuck yourself.”
he hit you again - harder this time. you were unlucky enough to accidentally bite down on your lip, teeth sinking into the skin as his palm hit your cheek.
the blood was hot and metallic in your mouth, the flavour dancing on your tongue and filling up your mouth. you felt the liquid run down your chin, dripping onto your cargos.
harrow lifted your head, his grip strong enough to bruise. “you cannot say i didn’t give you a chance. i amen’t able to promise you that my friends are so keen on talking.”
he let your head fall, another few sets of footsteps approaching. you didn’t even bother to look up, just squeezed your eyes closed until shapes formed behind your eyelids. if you looked hard enough you could see marc again, swirling in the darkness. there was steven, too, face appearing amidst the shapes and colours.
you hoped they’d find you. really - you did. over the last few years your pain tolerance had deteriorated, after all you hadn’t needed it. your work hadn’t got less dangerous, not really, but you’d gotten better. better aim, better stamina, better at getting out of situations before you were even in them.
but now there was no way out of the pain. you understood completely what harrow meant by ‘not too keen on talking’. unfortunately, marc’s version of not talking was far different from what you assumed these people had in mind.
the footsteps approached you, your head still hanging between your shoulders. one set came in front of you, another behind you. seconds passed.
a hand pulled your hair from behind, hoisting your head up with a burning in your scalp. opening your eyes, you saw a man in front of you - one you recognised from coming to steven’s flat a few weeks ago.
“you may not want to tell us,” his irish accent was thick, hanging in the air. “but you will.”
something punched you in the gut, completely taking the wind out of you. the stinging came quickly, leaving you unsure if a rib had been broken or not.
this was going to be a long night.
-
marc was just as frantic as you’d have expected, him and steven switching at least a few times a minute - something that only happened when both of them were extremely stressed.
it has taken them a few hours to work out where harrow had taken you, but during that time steven had proved that yes - he actually would move the heavens for you.
turning back the night sky by thousands of years was no easy feat, it turned out, steven collapsing as soon at the sky was in the right place. it came with sacrifices, too, the gods making good on their promise to turn khonshu to stone if he changed the sky once more.
but that didn’t matter, now now. layla’s foot almost hit the floor as she drove through the sand, pyramids only now coming into view.
“he better not have touched her,” marc grumbled. “i’ll kill him.”
“you’ll kill him?” steven asked. “i’ll bloody dissect him.”
“she’ll be fine, boys. y/n’s stronger than either of us know.” layla said in attempt to soothe them.
but even she wasn’t calm, fingers tapping against the wheel and her blinking becoming rapid. she could say all she wanted, but as time ticked on she couldn’t pretend that the chances of you remaining unharmed weren’t slimming.
“i know she’s strong, but he’s dangerous. and deranged.” marc snapped, electing to stare out of the window.
he couldn’t act like it wasn’t taking a toll on him, switching in and out of consciousness every few seconds. he was tired, stressed, angry, but above all terrified for you. much like layla, as much as he wanted to pretend that harrow wouldn’t have laid a finger on you, he knew deep down that using violence was the easiest way to get what you wanted.
now, he thought, they were truly fucked. not only did layla have people chasing her, but the entire concept of harrow had slipped his mind for a minute. he had forgotten how much of a threat you two had coming for you, that layla wasn’t the only person needing to look over her shoulder.
he was an idiot - he was sure of it. if he had went with you, not been so angry with mogart, if he hadn’t let you go by yourself - fuck, if he hadn’t dragged you into all this mess, forced you to stay home and let your injury heal. it was all his fault. you were gone, probably being tortured, and it was all his fault. all of this was his fault, his fault-
steven blinked. the landscape of the egyptian desert seeming strangely beautiful, even in the darkness - the sand rising up and down to form what looked like waves.
“how far away are we?” he asked, turning to look at layla.
“not far,” she said. “a few hours, at most. she’ll be ok.”
-
everything hurt. every part of your body was screaming in pain, crying out for a break.
you were sure you had at least three broken ribs now, along with a broken nose and new gashes to add to the collection of scars.
the black, long sleeve t-shirt you had been wearing was littered in holes, having either ripped from force or the edge of a blade. your skin was covered in cuts, blood feeling like it covered your entire body.
hours must have passed, you thought. almost the whole night, surely? if there was any windows, you’d have guaranteed that the sun would be rising.
what a funny thought right now. the sun, rising on you and your husband. you almost felt the head on your skin, and steven sitting next to you. why you imagined steven you weren’t sure, but even after being away from him for a few hours, the longing for him had settled into your stomach.
you missed his arms, his smell, his touch, his smile, his hair - everything. you would have done anything to feel steven’s soft, gentle touches right now.
soft, gentle touches that were greatly contrasted to the hits you were taking right now.
you felt another blow to your abdomen, this time being hardened by the toe of a boot. the pain didn’t even feel real anymore, just adding to the many bruises you could already feel developing.
“why are you so loyal to him?” a voice spoke from behind you for the first time.
if you had the strength to turn around, you would have.
“he’s hardly the worlds greatest husband.”
your eyelids felt heavy, head falling back, limp against your shoulders. the world turned upside down, but the space behind you was almost identical to the rest of the room.
“i mean,” the woman spoke. “he’s probably hurt you more than we have.”
using all your energy to scoff, you let your eyes close. maybe this was a new tactic to get you to speak.
“why does he do that?” she pushed herself off of the wall she was leaning against. “injure you, and leave the other one to clean you up?”
she walked round to in front of you, but you didn’t move - never mind acknowledge that she was speaking at all.
“your husband is sick, y/n.”
that made you move - pulling your head up to face her. “shut your mouth.”
“what? you know i’m right. he’s ill, his head is all messed up.”
you spat on the floor, seeing blood combined in the liquid. “you’re one to talk about messed up.”
“maybe,” she nodded. “but i don’t talk to myself in mirrors and speak in a random british accent when i feel like it.”
if you could have hit her, you would have. she was so painfully uneducated - as well as a bitch.
“you know it too, deep down.”
“know what?” you sneered.
“that you married a broken man - a broken man with a fractured mind.”
“my husband,” you pulled against the ropes again, pain of irritating the burn even further stinging in your wrists. “is not fucking broken, or sick, or fractured. he’s a human being.”
before she could retort, another set of footsteps approached, sound of crushing glass and tapping cane coming with them. you knew who it was before he walked through into the room.
“leave us,” harrow spoke, the two people instantly scurrying away. it made you laugh lightly - how completely devoted to him they were.
“i hear you still haven’t budged.”
“nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “i told you i wasn’t going to.”
harrow hummed, walking slowly around you. “you defend this information so much from us, it’s as if you don’t keep things from other people.”
“meaning?” you mumbled.
“does marc know why he almost died that night? the night he became a slave to khonshu.”
you swallowed, hot blood running down your throat. “he doesn’t need to know.”
“he doesn’t need to know?” harrow repeated. “or does he not deserve to know?”
“of course he does,” you snapped, hissing at a sudden pain in your chest. “but he doesn’t need to know.”
“no, i get it, i get it. what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”
silence fell upon the two of you for a few seconds, before you spoke; “why did you come back?”
“i’ve realised you are of no help to us, y/n spector.”
“no help?” you raised an eyebrow, but relaxed it after feeling the stinging in your forehead. “did you seriously think i would tell you fucking anything?”
“perhaps not,” harrow sighed. “but i thought your husband would have took the bait.”
you already knew why harrow had brought you here, the intention of leading marc straight to you being as clear as day. there was nothing you could do to prevent him from coming, though, only hoping when he did arrive he would be prepared to fight.
a cold metal against your forehead made you open your eyes, being met with a gun straight between your eyebrows.
you let out a small laugh. “you’re seriously going to kill me?”
no part of you expected him to pull that trigger, why would he? you could have been killed a hundred times over by now, harrow could have allowed his men to beat you to death, but no. you had something he needed to know and you were convinced he would do anything to get you to tell him.
maybe it’s a good thing, that you didn’t expect to die. perhaps it’s nice that your last thoughts were not of fear or regret - but of calmness. sureness in yourself, that you were two steps ahead.
but no. despite everything you were so sure of - everything you would have bet your life’s savings on, arthur harrow pulled the trigger.
you didn’t even know you had died, it happened to quickly. you didn’t hear the bang, because by that time, your brain was in a million little pieces on the floor.
“this may persuade your husband to tell me himself.” harrow said to your corpse.
he walked away, crunching of glass following in his step, leaving you in the room. you had fallen back in the chair, body laying on the stone floor.
blood seeping into the stone, your lifeless eyes stared into nothing, smile still half etched onto your face.
strange. you were so utterly convinced he wasn’t going to kill you. oh well, now the real fun could start - afterlife, here you came. and the funniest part? regardless of what harrow thought, you had no fucking idea where ammits ushabti was - you just pretended you did in attempt to keep your life.
564 notes · View notes
chanluster · 4 years
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10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}
oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words
“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”
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s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.
w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again
p l a y l i s t > > here!
a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3
t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan​ @minaamhh @leescrt
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“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”
Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.
“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face. 
You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”
“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”
You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”
“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”
You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”
Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.
“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”
Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.
Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation. 
Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy. 
“Hyunjin.”
Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!
“It’s...it’s not you.”
You put your hand on your heart. 
“It’s me.”
Oh, Jesus.
Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 
Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit. 
Face it, ____. You’re done for.
A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.” 
He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”
You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”
That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?” 
Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?” 
Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”
“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.” 
You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”
When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.
“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.
Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.
You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.
Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs. 
Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.
It was partly you as well.
Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.
CHRIS THE PISS :
bitch have you done it?
CHRIS THE PISS :
helloooooo??
CHRIS THE PISS :
hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 
CHRIS THE PISS :
or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo
You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination. 
Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.
CHRIS THE PISS :
i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!
CHRIS THE PISS :
unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK
CHRIS THE PISS :
haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u 
YOU :
chan i will kill u :)
CHRIS THE PISS :
hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair
CHRIS THE PISS :
that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 
YOU:
omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming
CHRIS THE PISS :
PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC
Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.
Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.
With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.
“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”
You cursed at the man who welcomed you.
“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”
You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible. 
He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”
Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”
After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”
Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”
Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”
“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”
“No, we’re getting Indian.”
You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?” 
The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”
He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels. 
Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue. 
Chan himself used this system  — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.
The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.
“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”
“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”
You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”
“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head. 
“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.
The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”
“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”
“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”
Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”
“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.
There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.
“____?” 
“No, you’re not having any of mine.”
Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”
“Shoot.”
“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”
You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”
Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.” 
Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”
The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”
Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”
Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”
“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”
You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”
A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”
“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”
“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!” 
The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”
“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”
This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”
A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”
“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”
Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.
Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.
One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.
This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?
Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?
Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”
The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”
“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”
It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”
You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”
Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”
Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”
“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”
The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face. 
What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?
“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”
Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”
You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”
A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”
The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names. 
Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.
“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”
The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”
Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”
When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.
“Oh my God.”
His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.
“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”
Your mouth dropped.
Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration. 
It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you’re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”
He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”
Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.
“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”
“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”
You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched. 
You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.
The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.
Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.
Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.
Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.
The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.
You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.
The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.  
It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs. 
You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass. 
A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”
You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.
But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.
Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.
At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.
You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist. 
Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.
You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.
“Let’s do it, Chan.”
His hand went limp in your hold.
For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.
“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go. 
Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.
With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.
“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”
“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.
“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”
The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.
There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.
Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..
This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.
“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”
You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”
But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled. 
When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.
You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours. 
His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth. 
You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not. 
The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of. 
He had all the time in the world for this.
The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust. 
You wanted this as much as he did. 
His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.
Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel. 
Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…
Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.
“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him. 
You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”
Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.
Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit. 
Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.
“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”
The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.
Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.
He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”
Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on. 
His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing. 
His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.
It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve. 
Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.
“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.
The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.
Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.
Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.
You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.
Just like your best friend promised.
“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you. 
In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs. 
The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.
“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”
His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more. 
“Good girl.”
And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.
You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.
The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious. 
A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation. 
Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.
And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.
“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”
Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation. 
This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.
He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth. 
Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin. 
Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.
You blinked. 
Imagine what he could have done with his dick.
“____?”
Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”
Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”
Pride washed over his features. “Good.”
You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.
Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”
The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”
But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest. 
His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”
Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.
His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.
Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.
Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants. 
“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.
You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes. 
He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers. 
Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big. 
“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him. 
“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost. 
Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.
He read your every plea. 
Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.
Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.
“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron. 
Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.
Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.
His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you. 
“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.
Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 
Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.
When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds. 
His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you. 
You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence. 
It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.  
Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe. 
“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”
His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.
Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were. 
You and Chan were the only noise in the room — however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter. 
At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.
An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.
Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.
You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”
Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?” 
Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”
His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”
Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”
You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”
Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”
You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 
“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”
With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms. 
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YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.
It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets. 
Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.
“Oh my God.”
Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.
Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before. 
Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.
You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.
There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension. 
Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.
CHRIS THE PISS: 
just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?
CHRIS THE PISS:
cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 
You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.
YOU:
i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 
CHRIS THE PISS:
oh damn
CHRIS THE PISS:
i PARALYSED u??
CHRIS THE PISS:
why am i so powerful 
“This asshole,” you muttered. 
YOU:
STFUU COCKY MF
CHRIS THE PISS: 
It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair
YOU:
?!?!?!?!!?!
CHRIS THE PISS:
but tell me 
CHRIS THE PISS:
how good was it
This had you pausing. 
CHRIS THE PISS:
outta ten
Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.
All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.
But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.
A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.
Again, the situation here was different.
So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation. 
YOU:
2/10 :)
You waited for his text.
However, you did not receive it.
Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness. 
Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.
“Now I know you’re lying!”
Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”
“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”
You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant. 
It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”
“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”
God, you could almost feel your nose growing.
Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”
You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.
“Shut up, Chan.”
“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”
“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.
“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”
“A Hyunjin?”
“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”
That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”
You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”
Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”
His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”
The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.
He did change your life.
Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?
“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”
Hopefully tonight.
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FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.
And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.
Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.
Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress. 
These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.
Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.
Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.
Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.
“Jisung!”
The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats. 
You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.
“Boo!”
A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung. 
“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”
“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”
“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”
“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”
“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began. 
Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.
“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”
If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”
“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”
Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future. 
Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.” 
The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”
You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.
Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.
The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.
The joy was not returned. 
“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over. 
He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”
“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances. 
Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”
You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”
“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”
He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”
Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”
You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”
You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.” 
Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”
“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank. 
You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”
He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”
“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?
Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”
You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”
“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”
Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.” 
You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?
Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”
He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more. 
“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.
After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”
“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”
“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?” 
Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”
He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.
Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.
Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”
Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”
He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”
You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.
Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”
You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful. 
He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.
“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”
He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.
“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”
A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.” 
You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”
“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”
“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.
“Permission to punch him in the face?” 
“You might have to put a hold to that.” 
“Fuck.”
Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”
You played with his curls. “How angry?”
He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”
That certainly made you do a double take. 
9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.
Of course, because you were his closest friend.
“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”
Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.
Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 
“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.
 Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”
You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”
Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”
“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”
Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.
“Come here, then,” he guttered.
The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go. 
On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.
It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.
Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal. 
“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement. 
Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered. 
Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.
Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly. 
“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?” 
Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free. 
The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 
You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams. 
“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”
Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.
A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.
You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.
Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.
Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat. 
“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”
You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.
When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.
“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”
Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.
Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.
The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing. 
Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable. 
After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”
Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.
“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”
You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”
Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches. 
“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table. 
You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.
And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head. 
There was absolutely no way you were going to that party. 
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OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.
You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.
Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves. 
While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him. 
Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. 
You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.
And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.
“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”
“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied. 
He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”
You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.
“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”
The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.
His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication. 
You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon. 
Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back. 
Why did you even come here? 
You instantly soured at the thought.
Still, you could not help pondering further.
You should have stayed home. With him.
You groaned out loud.
It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him. 
Then were you feeling miserable?
Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.
That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings. 
Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child. 
You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration. 
He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears. 
You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.” 
“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”
Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”
It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”
His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.” 
Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer. 
Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 
It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.
“Oh my God!”
Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.
“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.
“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”
Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.
“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”
You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”
A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”
Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”
He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”
This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.
“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?” 
“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”
“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.” 
Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.
“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 
There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.
Were you really just friends? 
You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again. 
But...to be more?
Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.
“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.” 
Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms. 
You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual. 
But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.
There was a reason he rated it 9/10.
Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.
Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.
Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.
You turned the knob.
Your best friend.
Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.
Right?
“Back so soon?” 
Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.
“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?” 
He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”
“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”
“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”
You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.
Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.
I know Chan practically adores you.
The memory brought chills all over you again. 
Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.
“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you. 
Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”
Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”
That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”
“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter. 
“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand. 
You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”
Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?” 
“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”
“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”
“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”
“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”
“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”
“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”
“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”
You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”
Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.” 
His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.
“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”
You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare. 
“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”
A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.
Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”
You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”
“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”
“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”
“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!” 
The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!
“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”
“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!
“I like you!”
“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!” 
The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you. 
I like you too.
Well, shit. There it was.
The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him. 
Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.
You had finally told him of your feelings. 
A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin. 
Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?” 
God, you were such a bitch.
Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.
Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.
His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear. 
Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor. 
In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face. 
“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed. 
The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!” 
You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal. 
Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”
Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud. 
You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day. 
“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”
Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his. 
When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.
You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing. 
Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.
“Cum for me, baby.”
That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability. 
However, even with all of that, you still wanted more. 
And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire. 
All for him. All. For him.
Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.
“I will completely ruin you, ____.”
He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut. 
Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago. 
Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy. 
Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem. 
“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.
You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.
You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”
It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets. 
That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it. 
“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”
He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this. 
Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers. 
“Please, Chan. Please.”
Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight. 
The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world. 
“Donghyuck!”
The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you. 
“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely. 
You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.
As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.
But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer. 
Bang Chan, your very best friend. 
When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.
You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.
He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.
“Cum for me, ____.”
The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets. 
A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.
For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.
You decided to break the silence first. 
“I’m sorry for saying his name.”
Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again? 
Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness. 
“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”
“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”
His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers. 
You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”
Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration. 
“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.
Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.
“Chan!”
You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.
The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”
“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”
“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”
You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.
“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”
Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”
“Yeah?”
When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.
“Chan?”
“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”
You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”
“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”
“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.
Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.
He parted his mouth. 
“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”
You blinked. 
Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”
“Yes.”
Your best friend paused. 
Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 
“What?”
You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”
For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”
You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!” 
Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”
“Shoot.”
“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”
You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.
And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.
So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.
“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”
Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips. 
When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.
“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”
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bratkook · 4 years
Text
girls like you. (m) kth
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‘swear to god she's a blessing and a curse, should’ve learned from you’
pairing. taehyung x reader genre. smut, some plot (not really) word count. 26k warnings. three separate smut scenes: masturbation in a public bathroom, handjob, exhibitionism on a bus, tae creeps on oc’s nudes, brief mentions of oc being a sex worker, dirty talk, messy sex, praising, grinding, pussy job, cum swallowing, overstimulation, forced orgasms, oral (m. receiving), fingering, begging, use of sex toys (hitachi), color system, use of safe word (yellow not red), crying, edging, choking, cockwarming, oc is very much straight forward and ‘in charge’ but def not a dom summary. girls like you were the ones he desired from afar. girls like you weren’t the girls you take home to mother. girls like you knew the power they had over a boy like him and fuck, did he love it. note. this is a reupload of an older story that i took down to be re-edited. it’s essentially pure filth with some plot and it’s mostly an excuse to write something where Taehyung is a little submissive compared to the reader. also 100% inspired by the song girls like u by blackbear. please let me know your thoughts on this thank u ilysm !!
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The daily commute from his home to university was always long and boring to put it simply. The monotonous routine was something he could do with his eyes closed. It started the same every morning, waking up with sleep still heavy on his lids, grabbing a quick bite to eat from the convenience store by the bus stop, and waiting in the differing degrees of weather until the hunk of metal creeped up the street. 
There was one plus to dragging himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of five am in order to catch the bus on time—really why did he ever think choosing morning classes was the way to go—regardless, the blessing came in the form of a near empty bus the second he stepped on.
Considering he was one of the first stops for this route, he’s lucky enough to always snag a seat. It's the same seat every time and he’s almost positive the regular riders knew this by now. Snagging a seat meant he could tuck his headphones in, rest his head against the window of the bus and pretend the way his head bounced back from the potholes wasn’t killing the last remaining brain cells he had.
What difference would a few brain cells be in the grand scheme of things? He couldn’t care less, always more focused on whatever was on his phone. The brightness was dimmed to an appropriate setting to not burn his dry eyes, strands of hair covering his face as he looked down at his lap, fingers scrolling robotically through his instagram feed and then switching over to his twitter.
It must have been a sign from god that made instagram crash that morning, causing an influx of annoying ‘is instagram down for anyone else or just me’ tweets that made him roll his eyes and choose to lock his phone and lift his head up from its permanent downcast position. He was getting a mean case of tech neck anyways, rolling his head and shoulders to release the awkward tension lingering in his muscles.
That’s when he noticed the eyes staring right at him. Had he looked up more often he would have known that those exact eyes had been watching him intently for weeks now, sitting and hoping he would eventually look up. He’s half expecting you to look away, embarrassed by being caught blatantly staring at him but instead, you tilted your head slightly and gave him a sly smirk, almost as if you’re taunting him to look away. And that’s exactly what he does, his eyes darting away and apparently his whole head wanted to follow, ramming against the window with a nice whack.
Great. Good going man.
He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, refusing to look up because he could just picture you laughing at him. Hell, maybe you were recording him with the purpose to post once instagram decided to get it’s shit together. With that in mind, it didn’t take much debating before he decided that repetitive tweets were more entertaining than making eye contact with you again, unlocking his phone and beginning the endless scrolling once more.
The long ride allowed him to eventually push his embarrassment aside, eyes lazily skimming the words on his screen, not digesting anything he’s reading. It’s not until the bus jolted forward at his stop that he took a chance and looked over at you quickly, noticing you were already up by the front, waltzing out of the doors before he could even get himself up from his seat.
A double take out the window confirmed that he was in fact at the university bus stop, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket and hurrying off the bus before the driver could get annoyed at his slow pace. 
Your silhouette was slowly disappearing through the crowd of other students and he had to snap out of his small daze once he lost you entirely, shrugging his shoulders at the odd encounter before making his way towards his first class of the morning.
His university is pretty large, the amount of students here bordering on absurd and it’s the main reason he chose to take the bus to school instead of driving because the parking lot is literally hell on earth. With all that said, he still couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen you before this morning. Had you always taken that bus with him? Also, how long had you been staring at him? Maybe it was just today, but fuck, did that mean he had something weird on his face...or maybe his hair looked jacked up in order for you to just stare.
“You good?” The sound of Jungkook brought him out of the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, coming to a screeching halt and settling back into the dust as he came back to reality. Once his eyes finally focused back in, he realized he’s been staring at some random girl a few seats down with a zombie like expression. No wonder she was now giving him a bizarre look.
“Fuck.” Too embarrassed to even attempt to apologize to his classmate, he averted his eyes and looked to his left where Jungkook sat, a concerned expression on his face as he took a giant bite out of his oversized breakfast burrito. “I’m good.”
Jungkook gave him a once over, narrowing his eyes as he chewed his food, a bit of egg lingering by his lip. “Bullshit.”
The look of disgust on Taehyung’s face was very evident, so Jungkook could only smile before taking yet another massive bite out of his burrito, making an absolute show of chewing the meal. 
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook laughed, blowing his friend a kiss before properly chewing and taking a gulp of his water. “You sure you’re good Tae? You were staring into the fucking abyss or something earlier.”
From first glance he definitely looked like he was really thinking about some deep rooted issues. His body had been slightly hunched over his desk, eyes zoned out on that poor girl but his mind was elsewhere. An array of emotions had played out on his face, features contorted into different forms of distress as he had a mental conversation with himself. So when Jungkook walked in and saw him in that state he just had to make sure he was alright.
“I’m fine, just had a weird morning is all.”
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The next morning started off the same as always. Taehyung only had two morning classes today so he stayed in his sweats and hoodie, stopping by the convenience store to grab something to eat before getting to his bus stop. 
It was routine: his feet dragging along the sidewalk and coming to a halt beside the bench, mind still heavy with sleep, until a flash of a memory pops in so quickly it made him wince. 
That’s when he was reminded about you. 
You had left his mind after his first class yesterday, the stress of assignments taking over the part of his brain that was curious–and a little embarrassed–about your interaction. All that occupied his day was finishing that essay for his biology class, facetiming Jimin who needed help deciding between shirts before his date, and now the kimbap he currently had in his hand. 
But as he sat at the bench waiting for the bus, the only thing repeating in his mind was him smacking his face against the glass so hard his brain rattled, and unfortunately, his breakfast didn’t seem as appetizing anymore.
When the familiar hunk of metal pulled up in front of him he couldn’t help the small feeling of nerves bubbling up in his stomach. He felt a little stupid, how one situation was making him overthink little things when for all he knew you’ve been riding the same bus for months.
He shuffled down the aisle after swiping his bus card, head staring at the floor because he was a little scared to look up and see you on the bus already. Thankfully his usual seat was unoccupied—the last row at the back right next to the right window—so he made a beeline right towards it. 
Crinkling from his pockets filled the quiet bus as he finally settled into his seat, setting his backpack onto the floor right between his legs. Moving slowly in order to not draw attention, his hand reached in and pulled out the kimbap from his pocket, peeling it open and taking a bite off the corner. His eyes took a peek up, cautiously drifting over the few passengers on the bus with him and noticing that you weren’t on the bus yet.
Okay, my stop is before hers.
Taehyung’s body instantly relaxed into his seat, a small sigh leaving his lips. The creeping feeling of embarrassment faded away now, allowing him to fish his phone out of his pocket as he enjoyed his breakfast, fingers tapping as he scrolled and liked the occasional picture on instagram.
Considering it was a Wednesday morning all social media was pretty dead, so once he got to the end of everything, he locked his phone and just stared at the scenery blending together. 
Before he could fully zone out, something made his nerves light up. A small burning sensation coming from his left and he had an inkling of what it could be. Carefully, he lifted his head away from against the window and let his eyes travel over to where he just knew you were sitting.
Yup. There you were. A few seats closer than last time, sat in one of the single seats facing the aisles, staring right at him. His eyes trailed down from yours and couldn’t help but stare at the small bit of cleavage you had showing in your low cut shirt. A gold charm was resting between your boobs, cursive letters spelling out what he could only assume was a nickname. 
He only realized he was blatantly staring at your tits when the sudden movement of your hand coming up brought him out of his stupid fuckboy trance.
To be honest, he was expecting you to move your hand to lift your shirt up or flip him off, he wasn’t expecting you to tug your shirt down a bit further and lean over, placing your chin on the hand that was resting on your crossed leg. His wide eyes drifted up to your lips, seeing the gloss shining off of them, showcasing the little smirk you had on.
You were taunting him, seeing if he would look away this time or not, and surprisingly he hadn’t. He wasn’t looking at your boobs now though, his eyes were zoned in on your lips and the occasional pink bubble you would blow with your gum.
Deciding to take it a small step further, you leaned back a tiny bit and let your fingertips graze the top of your chest while maintaining your gaze on him. That was when his eyes shot down to your chest once more, seeing the heart outline tattoo on your pinky before quickly looking around the bus at the other riders who weren’t paying you any attention. 
When he finally got the courage to look directly at your eyes you just gave him a wink before leaning all the way back in your seat and deciding you were done with whatever the hell that was, leaving Taehyung sitting in his seat, slightly sexually frustrated and a little confused at how something so simple could rile him up.
When the bus jolted to a stop in front of the university you hopped up from your seat and headed off to your class with a hop in your step, satisfied with your little game. Taehyung could simply watch with a dumbfounded expression, immediately standing up from his seat and awkwardly holding his bag in front of him to try to hide his junk as discreetly as he could. 
This was embarrassing. Why was every encounter he’d had with you this far ended in him feeling embarrassed and you feeling accomplished?
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Little did he know that’s how the majority of your encounters would go. The bus ride to school was now the leading cause of his blue balls and the highlight of your rather boring morning. He had now started to see you around school more often, whether that was because he was now looking out for you or purely coincidental, he wasn’t sure but he was certain you were taunting him. Especially with the outfits you would wear. They weren’t vastly inappropriate, but it seemed like every pair of shorts got a little shorter and every skirt a little tighter.
Obviously he knew he probably wasn’t the only dude who was on your radar, so it was a little self centered to assume you were doing this just to him, but it was definitely affecting him to the extent of his friends asking him what the hell was on his mind.
“Honestly dude, what’s your deal?”
“Hm?” he questioned, one hand on the lid of his coffee cup while his eyes stared at the table they were currently sitting around in the nearby coffee shop. Taehyung had been zoned out the entire time his friends had been talking about the upcoming party at Seokjin’s fraternity later this week. His mind just kept repeating the scene that unfolded on the bus earlier that morning with you, a skirt that was too short, and the way you let him catch a glance of your underwear when you accidentally opened your legs too wide when you went to cross them over.
“Like, what porn are you watching that constantly has you in a daze?”
“Yeah, send us a link or something!”
Taehyung frowned at his friends' comments, although they weren’t really too far off. He might not be thinking about porn exactly, but his thoughts were far from pure regarding you.
Jungkook was cackling obnoxiously as the rest of his friends cracked jokes about Taehyung being a porn addict, and honestly it was a shocker they hadn’t been asked to leave from the sheer volume coming from the group. Add the vulgar topic of porn to the mix and it was only a matter of minutes before the cute barista who had a huge crush on Yoongi would come over and shyly ask them to keep it down.
“Shut up,” Tae grumbled out, hand abandoning his coffee cup and aggressively rubbing his eyes. It was almost like he was trying to scrub the thought of you out of his mind like a dirty stain on his clothes.
Namjoon was the one who suddenly gasped like a child finding change on the floor. “Fuck, it’s not porn is it?”
That caused a couple of confused grunts to come from around him, choruses of ‘well if not porn then what’ and ‘no way don’t you see the difference in buffness between his arms he’s totally addicted to some weird shit.’
Taehyung sat up a little straighter, a small look of curiosity on his face as he glanced at Namjoon. Yes, his friend was the genius of the group in every sense of the word but he couldn’t have possibly figured it ou— “Who’s the girl you’ve been literally fantasizing over for weeks?”
Fuck.
Whoops and hollers were the next sound of choice from his immature friends, Hoseok going as far as violently shaking his shoulder while everyone teased him and that’s when Eunha finally walked over very timidly.  
“Hey Yoongi.”
Yoongi glanced up at the sound of his name, his smile growing a little softer when he noticed who it was coming from. Everyone knew she had a crush on him—including Yoongi himself—so they always tried to be as nice as possible to her. “Hey Eunha.”
She tucked a piece of her short hair behind her ear, her eyes drifting to everyone around the table before landing back on Yoongi. “Sorry, my boss is just saying you guys are being a little too loud and I don’t want him to kick you guys out so,” she pressed her palms together gently. “Could you guys just bring it down a tiny bit?”
“Shit, yeah. Sorry about that. We’ll keep it down, thanks babe.” A small blush tinted her cheeks at the pet name and she was only able to mumble out a meek okay before she scurried off with a giant smile on her face.
All of them watched her round the corner and slip into the employee only backroom, smiles on all of their faces until the door swung shut, and then they were back to all eyes on Taehyung. 
“So, who is she?” They all inched in a little closer at Jimin’s question, acting like fucking vultures, desperate for any bit of gossip Tae was willing to spill. They couldn’t be blamed though, they had witnessed their usual charismatic friend go from flirting with random girls and throwing jokes here and there to basically sitting in class in a weird zombie-like trance. But those were only the days where he had morning classes, so they just needed to find the connection between it all.
“Just some girl I ride the bus with to school.”
There was a beat of silence before Yoongi spoke up. “Okay, so ask her out?”
Now how was he supposed to come out and say that you and him had never really spoken, and he didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know his, and the only interactions you’ve had were very sexual in nature, but you’ve also never physically touched each other? He was stuck, only able to chew on his lips in thought, but luckily his friends took that as a cue to encourage him.
“Yeah man, ask her out or something! Especially if she’s got you this strung up.”
He wanted to laugh, really he did, but he also realized that he really didn’t have anything to lose when it came to approaching you. If he approached you and it didn’t go in his favor then he could just move on with his life. Pretty simple right?
That was how he found himself bolting up the second you did the next morning on the bus, standing a few feet behind you as the bus pulled up to the stop. You had chosen to simply stare at him every now and then during this particular morning, extremely PG compared to the other rides, so he thankfully didn’t have the majority of his blood rushing to his dick today. Because of this, he was hopeful he could actually say some words to you that didn’t make him seem like an asshole.
You stepped off the bus quickly, your heeled booties clicking against the steps and landing on the concrete smoothly, whereas his vans thumped the whole way down with a lot less grace in his haste, but he was able to catch up to you nonetheless.
He didn’t want to shout out your name because well, he didn’t actually know your full name aside from the cute charmed necklace you constantly wore, and what better way to garner more creepy points than to make it clear he stared at your tits. So he chose to jog up to you and place a hand on your shoulder, making your body come to a halt, but it was almost like you were expecting it with the half smile that graced your face.
“Hey, what’s your deal?”
Nice first words Taehyung.
You raised a brow at his remark, arms coming to cross under your chest as you watched him with clear amusement on your features. “My deal?” Your voice had him pausing momentarily, he was half expecting it to sound high and sweet but there was a slight edge to it, the sound a little lower in tone than he had mentally imagined.
“Uh yeah.” He let go of your shoulder and chose to fidget with the black beanie on his head instead, his palms going clammy. “You’ve been staring at me for weeks on the bus.”
You were staring at him intently, watching how nervous he was to even speak to you, not an ounce of shame on your face at being called out. The fact that he was even talking to you had caught you off guard. You weren’t really expecting him to ever say anything at this point since most men would have pounced for a chance to get a word in after the first time they had caught you staring at them.
“Does that bug you?”
“No!” He instantly shouted out, hands outstretched almost as if he was scared of offending you. “I just wanted to know why you…stare?”
You nodded along, your lips turning up at the corners slyly, tongue gently running along the bottom of your teeth as you smiled. “You’re nice to stare at.” His eyes widened at that and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that moment. Why did he seem like he was so out of his element? 
“And,” you started as you pulled a slip of paper and a pen out of your small side bag, quickly jotting something down before folding it in half. “I’ve just been thinking about how cute you’d look between my thighs for the past couple of weeks, so message me whenever you want.” You reached down and picked up the hand that was resting by his side, your fingers opening his palm and sliding the paper into it before closing it and just walking away without a second glance.
How could you just waltz away as if you hadn’t made him combust internally, calling him cute while slipping in a filthy thought. You hadn’t even cared to get his name before you admitted to wanting to sleep with him, and if this were a frat party and Taehyung was absolutely wasted that’s exactly how he would approach a girl too, but being on the receiving end made him a little unsure of himself.
The tiny folded paper in his palm was spread apart and that’s when he finally learned your actual name, along with your number which was written beside it in black ink and finished off with a heart.
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He never got the courage to text you.
Well, not until he saw you on the bus the following morning with a damn lollipop in between your lips. The way you slowly trailed it up towards your lips was just asking for dirty thought to cross his mind. 
That was exactly your reason for doing it though, this was like a game for you, he just didn’t realize it and that’s what enticed you to continue it, torturing him slightly since he had failed to reach out to you.
You let the green lollipop rest on your tongue momentarily before gliding it down and letting the tip of your tongue circle around it, seeing his eyes widen slightly at the provocative action.
Taehyung looked around at the lingering passengers to see if anyone was watching whatever this was going down but there was no audience, there never seemed to be one. The only passengers were gathered towards the front, all engrossed in their books or phones so they don’t see the way you swirl your tongue around the candy.
You clearly had the art of seduction down by how quickly he could feel his pants tightening but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued on your mouth, the way you were enjoying that stupid sucker was way too sexual and it didn’t help that your eyes were piercing into him. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. With how fixated his eyes were you could tell what thoughts were floating in his mind, especially by the way he shifted in his seat.
Taehyung was currently hating his life with all he had in him for wearing sweats, gray sweats to top it off. Those are surely going to show the nice outline of his half hard dick when he gets up.
He really should look away from you but every time he tried, flashes of you between his legs would entice him to keep staring. There has never been a moment where he felt more like a pervert than right now and he almost felt ashamed to be watching you. Almost.
This was just fun for you, you weren’t dwelling on this as much as Taehyung was. You only ever thought of him when you woke up for class and wondered how you were going to subtly torture him on the commute to school. You wanted to see how far you could take it before he reacted differently, whether that be him approaching you in person once more or finally shooting you a text.
Would he ever make a move on you? It was hard to tell considering he never reached out and what man would turn down an invite for casual sex if he was semi interested. Would he ever tell you to stop? You obviously would, but the way he denied being bothered by you giving him attention just led you to believe he was very much into it.
The subtle shift in his seat also showed you how much he was into the little show you had for him. He had pulled his phone out, tapping on a new message with your name being typed in.
Why are you doing this– he quickly deleted that, the little line flashing as it waited for the next words to be typed out.
Do you enjoy giving me random boners this early– nope delete that too.
The feeling of the bus coming to a stop made him lift his gaze from his phone and back to you, a small wink was shot in his direction before you were standing up and walking your way towards the front of the bus, your lollipop making your cheek bulge out as you let it rest on the side of your mouth. Taehyung just watched you standing there, one hand gripping the metal railing above you as the bus approached the stop. You gave one last glance over your shoulder to see if he had moved before you stepped off the bus, taking the sucker out of your mouth and giving him a wicked smirk before popping it back in and sauntering off to your first class of the day.
Taehyung once again had a boner pressing against the fabric of his pants and he couldn’t help the groan that left him because dammit, this was happening too often. He was tired of having to daydream about nasty shit to get it to go away while you just pranced off satisfied with how you left him.
He hesitated in his seat for a moment, debating whether he should hop off and head back home so he could calmly deal with the current situation in his pants or if he could suck it up and actually focus enough during his first class.
The bus driver looked at his rear mirror and gave him an irritated look, and with that his decision was made for him. Well a compromise actually, he wouldn’t be able to focus in class when all he was thinking about was your lips around his cock and the fact that you admitted to wanting to fuck him, but he also couldn’t leave school entirely because he had a test his next class and the bus ride back to his house and back to school was too troublesome to bother with.
So he was currently headed to the boys restroom in the building his first class was in, a little more pep in his step because he was finally going to fix one of the problems you caused. Did he feel a little shame in him? Yes. He did. But he was currently blocking that out entirely. All he was thinking about was how great the feeling of his hand around his dick was going to be, and that alone was enough to get him to walk just a little bit faster.
He entered the building and climbed up the stairs two at a time, clearly in a hurry but who could blame him. Luckily most classes were currently in session and if someone didn’t have a class they were usually lounging outside or getting coffee nearby so he knew the bathroom would be free of people, proven right when he swung the door open and saw no one inside.
Taehyung walked to the stall the furthest away from the door and deemed it worthy enough before stepping in and locking it behind him. He took a deep breath as he stared at the wall in front of him, having somewhat of a mental debate. Had he really gotten to this point where he had to resort to jacking off in a bathroom stall?
He let one of his palms rub down his face for a moment, but only a moment because he had a problem to fix and right now his throbbing dick was way more important than his morals. So he shrugged off his backpack and hung it behind him on the hook and slid his sweats down along with his boxers, the material bunching together around his thighs.
Taehyung shut his eyes, not being able to stare at the porcelain toilet in front of him as he wrapped his hand around his cock, the feeling making a shudder run up his back. A gentle tug started his motions, his shoulders dropping from finally feeling some sort of relief after the show you had put on for him. The way your pink lips were wet from sucking on your candy made it easy to picture you between his legs, your lips coated in saliva from giving him what he’s sure would be the best blowjob of his life, chin messy as you stuck your tongue out for him.
He could almost feel his hands in between your hair, tugging on your strands as you picked up the pace, so he mimicked it himself, stopping momentarily to spit into his palm to make the glide a little smoother. 
Fuck, he really should have texted you, maybe then he wouldn’t be doing something as filthy as this. Maybe—no he definitely would know what this would feel like in real life, but his hand would just have to do.
A groan left his mouth as he tugged on his cock faster now, eyes squeezing shut as he pictured you sucking on the tip of it, your eyes looking up at him in the same piercing way they always did. He’d like to think that you’d deepthroat him, or tease him, maybe even edge him because you definitely liked to torture him. His mind was flipping through a million and one scenarios as his pace sped up, now hunched over the toilet, the hand that wasn’t pushing him over the edge of an orgasm pressed against the wall in front of him.
His hips started thrusting into his hand, joining in on the motion, a whine felt at the back of his throat begging to come out because of how desperate he felt for his release. The pent up frustration he had for himself, and how badly he wanted to fuck you, paired up with his thumb focusing on his tip every time he stroked up brought him to his orgasm. A choked groan left his mouth as his hips stuttered, his hand continuing to stroke himself rather quickly as ribbons of white shot into the toilet. His groans turned into soft whines as he kept up the pace, the tingles he felt on his dick from the oversensitivity felt too good for him to stop, he was way too desperate for this and it was disappointing that it was over. It wasn’t until his hips and stomach continued to twitch that he finally pulled his hand away from his softening dick.
Taehyung leaned his back against the door, feeling the material of his backpack against him as he slumped down. His forehead was sweaty and his chest was heaving from his orgasm but he was content with himself now, mind no longer whirling with thoughts of you and that damn lollipop. He grabbed toilet paper and cleaned himself up before wiping down the toilet seat as clean as he could and flushing the evidence down the toilet.
He secured the strings to his sweatpants once again and stepped out of the stall, standing a little taller, glancing from side to side and letting out a breath of relief that no one was occupying the urinals or stalls. After washing his hands he stepped back out into the halls of his university and headed down the stairs to go sit in the quad to wait for his next class.
You were going to be the death of him. How was it that you had this much power over him and were so unaffected by it? He needed to do something about this, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Taehyung ignored the notifications on his screen from his friends and opened up a new message, typing in your name before staring at the blank thread waiting to be filled.
Taehyung 9:40am : I hope you’re happy with the problem you gave me.
Was that the best message to send? Probably not, but he wasn’t letting himself think about it too much before the spark of courage left him so he tapped send and immediately backed out of the message, choosing to pretend to occupy his mind by reading the texts he got from Jungkook. The typical ‘are you dead’ texts he would send him if he ever missed class, along with a random text from Namjoon asking if he’d made a move on the mystery girl yet.
Taehyung jumped so hard his phone almost fell out of his grasp when it buzzed with a new text from you. His fingers couldn’t move fast enough to open the notification but his smile dropped instantly when he saw your response.
Y/N  9:51am : Who is this?
How should he respond to this? Were you joking? 
His lips were pursed as he stared at his screen, waiting to see the three little dots indicating that you were still typing, maybe saying it was a joke but they never popped up so Taehyung decided to be rational and realize that he literally never gave you his name.
Taehyung 9:53am : It’s Taehyung.
Stupid. You wouldn’t know who that was so he went back and started typing another response only stopping when another one of your messages popped up.
Y/N 9:54am :???
Taehyung 9:55am : Boy on bus
He left the messages open, staring at the screen and grinning to himself when he saw the notification pop up under his text, letting him know you had read the message. But when you never replied as the minutes went on, he started to feel a little dejected, so he locked his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket as he tried to go about the rest of his day.
Taehyung liked to think he was a very easy going guy, someone who doesn’t let little things get to him, but that was just him lying to himself. He was relatively chill about 70 percent of the time, but that remaining 30 percent? Oh boy, that was the over thinking, over analyzing, Taehyung.
“Are you okay?” Solji, the girl who sat next to him in his environmental science class asked him. They hardly ever spoke unless they were exchanging notes for upcoming quizzes, but with the way his face currently looked she just had to make sure he wasn’t going through something serious. She tried once more but when he didn’t answer she just shrugged and decided it wasn’t her business.
He had his brows furrowed so deeply there was a small little indent in between them, his eyes focused on the corner of his desk while his mind was trying to think of every reason you hadn’t responded. You could have lost your phone, or better yet maybe somebody had snatched it from you the very second you had read his message. Or maybe, your phone—or his—glitched and you never got the message at all.
Little did he know you were currently sitting in your economics class, tucked away in the back corner with your phone in your hand as the professor lectured with the projector screen on in the dark room. You were purposely ignoring Taehyung’s message, turning your read receipts on just to torture him further.
He had finally messaged you and unfortunately it was not with a invitation to fuck. It did however paint a smile on your face because you knew he was very affected by you from the message he sent.
All you wanted was for him to be more forward. You knew he had jacked off at school, he had to, so why couldn’t he just go ahead and say that. Spice shit up a little and talk about what he was thinking about when he did it. It’s the little things really.
You clicked back onto his thread in your messages, choosing now to respond to him. Your fingernails lightly clicked on your screen as you typed out a response and snickered before hitting send.
Y/N  11:37am : Oh? okay.
Taehyung felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and his heart stopped, eyes widening to the point where poor Solji was once again concerned about his well being. She was gonna ask him one more time if he was okay but his sudden movement had her flinching back and avoiding eye contact as he shoved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Oh fuck she responded. He thought to himself as he unlocked his phone to see the notification, he opened the thread and read the message, scrolling up and back down almost as if he was trying to refresh the page for more of the message to load because there was no way in fucking hell that’s all you sent him.
But it was. That much was made very clear after a few minutes passed and you didn’t send anything else.
It was almost like Taehyung’s mind was on autopilot. He had finished his test minutes prior, so he shoved his pencil and extra scantron into his backpack before he stood up and practically stomped his way out of the classroom.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the mystery that was you. It would be very easy for him to just text back and get to know you but this was the 30 percent, over thinking, over analyzing, not chill Taehyung, and that was just not the way he did things.
Not chill Taehyung decided it was appropriate to bail out on his current class as well as bail out on the plans his friends had all made after classes. He decided it was perfectly fine to hop his merry self onto the bus and head on home. The plan was not very thought out, at all, but as he rode the bus home he just knew he would have to do some lurking to find something about you. 
While he was doing that driving his mind into the gutter, you were leaving your current class, heading out to meet your friends for a late lunch.
You had your phone held in your hand, almost hoping Taehyung would text back with something a little exciting, but he didn’t. That was fine by you though, he was right in assuming he wasn’t the only guy on your radar and although something about him made you want to pounce on him, if he wasn’t going to act on it then you weren’t going to dwell on it.
“Alright girls so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Hani spoke up, rubbing her hands together evilly.
“Be a child of god and go to sleep on time because I have a test the following day.” A chorus of boos followed all around, Sunmi even going as far as tossing a crumpled up napkin at Chungha who only rolled her eyes.
“C’mon Chungha. Just come out for a little bit,” you pleaded, grabbing her hands in yours and giving her the saddest puppy eyes you could muster.
“Ahh, no! You always do this Y/N!” she whined, throwing her head back in frustration. “But fine, only for two hours and I can’t get wasted.”
The three of you cheered obnoxiously, knowing very well that she would end up as trashed as all of you were, but that was a problem for tomorrow night. A problem for tonight however just occurred in the form of a notification on your phone.
You stared at it curiously, it was a notification from your blog that you used on occasion so you opened it up and smirked at what you discovered.
Not chill Taehyung had obviously gone home and did his lurking on you. Nowadays it really wasn’t hard to find anything on anyone considering how open people were on their socials so Taehyung was able to find your instagram with ease, especially now that he had your phone number.
He had scrolled through your feed carefully, seeing group photos with your girlfriends at parties, and an abundance of slightly suggestive selfies. There was one thing that was clear, you definitely had confidence in your body and he admired that.
Instagram only showed him a glimpse of your life and it wasn’t enough for him. Considering Taehyung had an account for every social media made, he knew you probably did too. So he took to a generic search, and even a reverse image search because he was so desperate it was pathetic. But it worked, because one certain photo you had uploaded on your instagram of you in a bikini with your face cut off was also uploaded onto a blog online.
At first glance he assumed it was just a generic porn blog that had reposted your photo, but upon further scrolling he noticed all the photos on there were of the same girl. You. 
His first instinct was to exit out of the site and act like he never found it, feeling slightly creepy at what his lurking had uncovered. But the curiosity was eating him alive, so he continued to scroll, seeing simple photos of you in lingerie; never revealing your face or anything else besides your ass and boobs. Along with that were some questions you would answer and with that he gathered that you had quite a bit of fans online.
There was one photo in particular that really caught his attention. The image was a little low quality, showing you with a black heart choker on and a stringy caged bralette that let your boobs pop out, your fingers slicked with something he could only imagine as they pinched your pebbled nipples. The heart outline tattoo on your pinky is what confirmed that it was in fact you in that photo, and that was enough for him to click the heart button on the bottom right to save into his likes for later.
What he didn’t know was that you checked your activity quite often. He also didn’t know that his blog, unlike yours, was not anonymous and had a stupid selfie of him as the icon.
So as he sat in his room and jerked off while thinking about you for the second time that day, you sat in the restaurant and giggled to yourself a little every time he liked a new photo, letting you know exactly what he was up to.
“Are you on that money pile blog of yours again?” Sunmi asked as she chewed on a chunk of butter soaked bread.
“Yes,” you responded simply, taking a sip of your drink and smiling when your friends cheered you on.
“How much have you made with it?” Hani asked curiously, pulling her shirt's neckline out to inspect her boobs. 
You thought about it for a moment; you started that blog to help you pay for school and have some left over for yourself and with luck on your side, it took off pretty quickly. While you did post provocative pictures online, they were all pretty timid in nature, so it was only a matter of time before you started getting messages of people interested in purchasing personal pictures or videos.
There were quite a few older men willing to send you hundreds of dollars for simple photos or videos, but the majority of your buyers were people around your age who chose to purchase access to your private account for a monthly fee. It was always funny to you how some of these people went to your school and either had no idea it was you, or chose to pretend they didn’t know you.
“Enough to pay off my tuition this semester and put some away.”
Chungha nodded to herself, thinking it was impressive. “Get your coin girl.”
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The following morning Taehyung hopped onto the bus with a feeling of guilt settling into the pit of his stomach, a nasty churning sensation that had plagued him in his sleep. It made him forgo his usual kimbap breakfast, afraid he’d hurl it up the second he made eye contact with you on this ride and the last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment to add to the list. 
He shouldn’t have touched himself to those photos that you hadn’t sent to him exclusively, and he definitely shouldn’t have saved them in his likes. Sure they were on a public domain, but still, it made him feel wrong.
He slid into his seat of choice and shoved his earbuds in, drowning out the small hum that filled the vehicle. Taehyung was so focused on trying to fry out the memory of your boobs from his mind by blasting music that he hadn’t noticed the bus stop and the sound of chunky platforms making their way up the aisle.
You sat down a few rows closer than normal, analyzing him for a moment; his dark hair was covering his eyes partially, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his grey windbreaker, and his jean clad legs bouncing rapidly made it so clear he was nervous.
Perfect.
A smile graced your lips as you slipped your phone out, opening up the thread you had with Taehyung, with your very uninterested message being the last thing you had sent him. It’s almost as if the tiny devil on his shoulder called his attention, convincing him to peer over, almost jumping in his seat when he realized you were on the bus and a lot closer than before.
When he saw your attention on your phone instead of him for once, he couldn’t help but think that maybe you had lost interest in this little game. Maybe he had taken it a bit too far and knowing he had jacked off at school to the thought of you had turned you off.
That is until his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sharp eyes darting up and locking onto his right after, a knowing smirk on your face as you raised your hand and waved your fingers at him.
Y/N 8:09am : Hi bus boy.
Oh god.
Why was he so fucking nervous to talk to you god dammit. His eyes drifted back over to you, seeing you still staring at him, your head tilted in curiosity at why he still hadn’t responded.
With slightly trembling hands he begins to type out a response.
Taehyung 8:11am : Hey bu—
His fingers stop when a new message slides up on the screen.
Y/N 8:11am : Thanks for liking my pictures on my blog.
Y/N 8:11am : Saving them for later?
His stomach drops, mind playing a nice little montage of him scrolling through your blog and pressing that damn heart button as fast as he could. How could he be so stupid in thinking he was being discreet?
Taehyung 8:13am : Fuck im so sorry
He couldn’t look back up, his eyes focused on the three dots indicating your typing. It seemed endless. Were you gonna send him a giant paragraph calling him a pig or some other insult, tell him you had blocked his IP address and would be filing a restraining order on him?
Y/N 8:16am : No, it’s my pleasure.
He stared at the text in mild shock, the kissy face emoji at the end taunting him. Were you fucking with him? It honestly seemed like it considering you had hopped up off your seat and walked off the bus, your hips swaying in the small skirt you wore which only taunted him some more.
Taehyung let out a groan as he rubbed his palms into his face in frustration. What the hell was his deal? He felt like a prepubescent boy who had never spoken to a girl let alone slept with one. Maybe he was losing his edge. Regardless, he was done suffering through this alone so he was going to suck up his pride and seek out the help of his friends.
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That was how he found himself once again sitting around the table in the small cafe they all frequented. The six of his friends gave him intent stares at he finished off his story, “And my dumbass didn’t think to maybe not like the pictures for later and she sent me this text the next morning.” He paused to slide his phone into the middle of the table with the message thread lighting up the screen, “And now I don’t know what the hell to do.”
Yoongi pressed his lips together as he shook his head, fingers adjusting the olive green beanie that he had on. “You’re a dumbass.”
Taehyung gave him a shocked expression, the wrinkles in his forehead only deepening when he saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. “What the fuck?”
“What?” Yoongi spoke in a monotone, his eyes playfully narrowing at his friend, taunting him to try to defend himself. 
“How am I a dumbass?”
Jungkook rubbed his hands together momentarily, looking around at the others to see if they were gonna speak up or if he was gonna have to be the one to do it. “Look dude,” he started off when he realized no one was gonna put Tae out of his misery. “You have this girl throwing herself at you, straight up telling you she wants to fuck you, and instead of acting on it you chose to jack off to the thought of her?”
Now that someone had said it outloud Taehyung did feel a bit stupid. 
This was so out of character for him, he was the kind of guy who hit on girls at frat parties and didn’t bother getting more information besides their name before he was taking them upstairs, and now that you were giving him that treatment, he didn’t know what to do.
“Not only are you stupid for not sleeping with her, but who the hell lurks and gets caught? What a rookie mistake!” Hoseok hollers out, causing Jimin and Namjoon to laugh along with him, and Taehyung could only feel his face redden in embarrassment.
Jin had Tae’s phone in his hand, scrolling through the extremely underwhelming messages you two had sent each other when suddenly, it dinged and a new image popped up at the bottom. “Oh wow!”
That caught everyone's attention, all of them leaning over to try to get a glimpse at whatever Jin had seen but he had already locked the phone, the screen turning black and blocking the guys from seeing the teasing picture you had sent Taehyung out of boredom.
“Aw c’mon, what was it?” Jimin whined, staring at the still locked phone that was now in Taehyung’s hands, hands itching to grab the device. 
Taehyung sighed. Did he even want to know?
One glance from Jin told him he sure as hell should, so he dimmed the brightness of his phone before he unlocked it to open up your message. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes made out the image, almost causing him to choke on his spit and make a bigger fool out of himself in front of his friends.
There, sitting all nice and pretty in your thread of messages, was a photo of your thighs spread open, your fingers lifting up the tiny skirt you had on today to reveal a small sliver of the black lace panties you had on. Very suggestive, clearly intent to tease him. 
‘Just for you’, was the only message you had written underneath, no indication that you would send anything else. Taehyung could only stare at the photo in awe, eyes trailing down the smooth skin of your thighs, desperately wanting to zoom in, but he knew his friends would only clown him further. It was pretty timid in nature but still just as sexy.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned out, locking his phone and letting his head fall onto the wooden table like deadweight. No one had any reaction to the rattle of the table, simply stabilizing their drinks as they observed their friend having what appears to be a mental breakdown. 
“What did she send him?” Yoongi whispered to Jin.
“Something mildly NSFW.”
At that, Yoongi reached over and jostled his whole body with force. “Get the fuck up you imbecile. Respond to her!”
“What am I supposed to say?” Tae slurred, cheek smushed against the table and muffling his words.
“Fucking anything is better than the silent treatment dude. Like she just took time out of her day to send you something. You gotta at least tell her she looks hot, or that you like the picture.” Jungkook rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious response, and honestly it was, this was sexting 101. 
“You’re right, I guess.” Taehyung lifted himself back up and unlocked his phone once more, staring at the screen with a distraught expression. “The fuck do I say though?”
Hoseok hummed in thought, tapping his chin as he stared at the lid of his cup. “Depends, what kinda photo was it? Full nude or like a tease?”
“A tease.”
“Oh! Tell her something like, she’s gonna be the death of you, or something along those lines. I’m sure she hears she’s hot all the time, so that's too basic.” Jimin speaks up proudly, his smile widening when Taehyung nods and begins typing out a response with slightly shaky fingers and hits send.
The little sound of the message being sent causes the whole group to let out a sigh of relief, slumping back into their seats and taking sips of their drinks.
“Who knew we’d have to resort to coaching Kim Taehyung on how to sext.” Namjoon snorts, earning a couple of laughs in return, and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh too because honestly how ridiculous. 
The conversation flows easily once Jungkook starts talking, everyone momentarily forgetting about Taehyung’s situation, which he was grateful for. The current topic at hand was the party that Jungkook and Hoseok were having in a few days at their new apartment, but his attention was taken away from that when he shockingly received another text from you.
Y/N 7:36pm :Now we can’t have you dying on me.
Y/N 7:36pm : In the mood for some drinks? A couple of friends and I are going out tonight.
Y/N 7:37pm : You should come.
He stared at his phone in thought. Fuck, he wanted to go so bad, but because he had spent all day yesterday jerking off to the thought of you he had procrastinated an assignment that was due tonight. Not chill Taehyung was going to be his downfall. 
Taehyung 7:40pm : I wish I could, I have a deadline at 11
Taehyung 7:40pm : Next time?
On the other side of the screen, you were laying in bed in the same outfit you had on earlier, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt as you read his response, a small smile on your face.
In all honesty you weren’t even expecting him to respond to your photo anyways, so this caught you off guard.
Y/N 7:42pm : I’m holding you to that bus boy.
So as you went out with your friends, throwing back shots and dancing your life away to the song playing at the club you guys loved, Taehyung sat at home typing out a bullshit paper as his phone watched your instagram story from time to time.
By the time he was calling it a night after he turned in his assignment you were still posting videos of your friends dancing and pouring drinks into your mouth straight from the bottle. You clearly knew how to have a good time and he couldn’t help but feel a tiny twinge of regret at not going out when you had invited him to.
That same regret seeps into the following morning, rewatching your stories and imagining how much fun he would have had if he decided to forget his assignments and go out with you. It’s safe to say that he was honestly not expecting you to hop on at your usual stop, mainly because he knew from your posts that you didn’t call it a night until 4am and it was currently 7:20am. So, when he saw you step on the bus, he was slightly shocked.
The regular attire he was used to was missing, normally styled hair now up in a messy bun, a thick pair of shades on, and an oversized flannel barely hanging over your shoulder. It was very obvious that you had just rolled out of bed. 
His reaction time was a little slow, but when he saw you continue down the aisle and getting closer to him, he tensed up and held his breath, not releasing it even as you took it upon yourself to sit down right next to him. The two of you being the only passengers at the back of the bus.
“Hi,” you spoke out, turning to look at him as he tried his best to just face forward. A sweet smile passed between you when he finally turned towards you and gave you a small hello in greeting.
That satisfies you, so you wiggle in your seat to get comfy, your hands pulling out a book from your bag and starting to read it to pass the time. Taehyung visibly relaxes at that, happy that your attention was on the book instead of him because he wasn’t sure if he could make it through a conversation this early without embarrassing himself.
You take note of his relaxed frame, his head resting against the window and one earbud in his ear playing some song you couldn’t quite make out. That was when you decided to make your move, your eyes still trained on your book as you let your right hand trail up onto his thigh, letting it rest there for a moment to gauge his reaction.
His thigh tenses instantly at the sensation. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” you whisper, your hand already retreating. You knew he was attracted to you but you weren’t gonna do something to him if he was uncomfortable.
Taehyung sits there for a moment, having an internal debate, because fuck does he want you to touch him, but he’s also on public transportation and he’s not sure what the fine is for public indecency. The inner debate is splayed on his features, but in the end the pros outweigh the cons, so he reaches out and grabs your hand, placing it higher up on his thigh.
“No, keep going.”
It was genuine curiosity to see how far you would actually go, and when you told him to put his backpack over his thighs he knew you were being serious. He listened to your instructions and waited with baited breath as he felt your fingertips trail around his crotch, ghost touches sending a small shiver down his spine.
His dick was already twitching in his pants and you had barely even touched him. Your fingers tugged on the string of his black track suits and slipped behind the waistband of them, trailing down his skin and feeling his stomach twitch at the contact. You settled with palming him over his boxers, hearing Taehyung let out a small grunt at the feeling, his dick slowly hardening under your touch.
He was very responsive to your touch, thighs tensing up as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips for more friction and it fueled your excitement. 
Considering this was a risky move, you decided to stop torturing him with teasing touches and finally slid your hand past the material of his boxers, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his thick cock.
Taehyung could feel the blood pumping in his ears as he dropped his head forward with a choked gasp, resting his forehead on the seat in front of him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to disguise his facial expressions if anyone were to look back.
Every jerk of your hand made his breath hitch. Your hands felt like magic, pulling up to twist around the swollen head and gathering his precum before coming back down. God, he wanted to rip his pants down so he wouldn’t feel so confined.
In the perfect display of nonchalance, you still had the book in your left hand, eyes cast down on the page as if your right hand wasn’t focused on his sensitive tip with determination to make him break down. On occasion, you would glance over and smile to yourself at his facial expression, seeing how his eyes were screwed shut as his forehead rested on the seat, alternating between chewing on his bottom lip or just licking his lips and leaving his mouth open as he tried to suppress the moans he wanted to let out. 
“Fuck.” The first crack to his exterior had him finally mumbling out as you picked up the pace, his eyes opening up and looking over at you for a moment, needing to solidify that he wasn’t imagining this. There would be nothing worse than coming face to face with his bed sheets as he awoke from a dream instead of you actually getting him off. 
But there you were, looking so at peace, staring at him with an innocent smile like you weren’t about to make him cum in his pants embarrassingly quick. “You close?”
He let out a small whine as he nodded, finally losing the final bit of self control and bucking his hips to meet your hand, hearing the small thump of your palm against his skin. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you make a mess.”
With eyes sparkling with mischief, you tightened your grip on him as you sped up, your bottom lip being chewed on by your teeth while you watched him come undone. His eyebrows were furrowed, a small frown on his face as he opened his mouth in a silent moan, something you desperately wished you could hear. Harsh pants of breath fanned across the back of the seat as he groaned, fingers gripping the material of his backpack to stop himself from digging his nails into his palm as he neared his release. With a few more pumps, his whole body tensed up as he finally came, stomach twitching while you milked his orgasm.
Taehyung vision blanks for a moment while aftershocks filled his body, dots of light flickering across his eyes until it all came back, and as he realized you were staring at him in awe he could have sworn he was gonna cum again. Your hand was still slowly pumping him, feeling his dick twitch at the overstimulation but he couldn’t get himself to tell you to stop, enjoying the small ache of sensitivity too much. 
It wasn’t until he started to softly grunt at the pleasure that turned painful that you pulled your hand out of his pants, content smile spread across your lips. Taehyung sat there limp, his body feeling like absolute jello, thighs still shaking from his climax. He can already imagine how unsteady his legs will be once it's time to get off the bus. 
You stared at your hand, eyeing the small milky beads of cum on your fingers and you didn’t think twice before popping them in your mouth and sucking on them as you stared right at him. “That was fun. Thanks bus boy.”
He watched in a daze as you stuffed the book back into your bag and got up from your seat, giving him a wide smile while you walked up to the front of the bus. It was only then that he realized both of you had arrived at your college, the boring commute speeding by thanks to your antics. With a spared glance at the displeased bus driver, Taehyung shot up from his seat, cringing at his still sensitive dick and the uncomfortable sticky feeling in his pants.
You were absolutely going to be the death of him
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Taehyung was weak, bottom-of-the-food-chain, top tier simp material for you. All it took was one handjob for him to be stuck on you, constantly waiting for any form of interaction you would give him. It was pure infatuation—and a little pathetic—but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. It was like his brain was torn between trying to get to know you in a more personal way, or just going with the flow and fucking you like you had originally offered. It just made him feel more confused, and a little naive, because it was so clear that you had no romantic feelings for him.
This experience had filled Taehyung with a small sense of guilt, he now knew how the girls he treated this way felt. The constant stringing along and nonchalant carefree aura he would have when he would hook up with girls who clearly wanted more, it was fucking frustrating being on the receiving end and even more frustrating because he knew if he really wanted it to stop all he had to do was ask.
But Taehyung couldn’t get himself to ask you to stop. You had a grasp on him, and you did it so easily, which is why when he didn’t see you on the bus the following day he felt his heart drop a little. 
Sure, he hadn’t noticed you prior but considering it had been a few weeks of constant contact in one form or another, he just found it a little odd now. His hand was twitching with the urge to send you a text and ask if you were feeling okay but he stopped himself in fear of sounding like a clingy mess. 
“Any progress on the mystery babe?” Jungkook asked as they waited in line at the fast food joint near school. 
Taehyung smirked a little at that, memories of yesterday's random handjob coming back to mind. “Sort of.”
Jungkook scoffed, “Sort of? Dude c’mon, just shoot her a text and tell her you wanna hang out, or be blunt and ask her to fuck.”
In retrospect that would be the typical route Taehyung would take, but there was something about you being so in control of this dynamic that had him so unsure of himself. “Look man, she’s different.”
“Oh no—“ And immediately Taehyung knew how that had come out. “Do not say you like her. You barely know her.”
He raised his hands in front of him, “No! Not like that Kook! I just mean that I don’t know how to act.” He let out a sigh, feeling annoyed with himself with this entire situation. “I hope I don’t sound like a total douchebag saying this, but I’m used to girls who let me take charge in situations you know?”
Jungkook nodded, staring at his friend as he spoke, “Girls that basically follow me around and let me decide if I wanna keep them around—and I hate how I sound speaking like that—but it’s the only way I can explain it.” He let out another defeated sigh, definitely something that had become a common form of expression for him. “She doesn’t do that shit, and I don’t know how to act like myself because of it.”
The younger man nodded again, knowing exactly what he meant. “I knew a girl like that, honestly the best two months of my life. Look dude, if she's making it clear that she doesn’t want anything serious then what's the dilemma? She’s confident in herself and you shouldn’t feel intimidated by that.”
Taehyung hummed at that, he was right as Jungkook continued, “And who knows, maybe she’ll help you realize that chains and whips excite you.”
And there was typical Jeon Jungkook. “I fucking hate you.”
Jungkook let out a cackle before turning his attention to the poor cashier who unfortunately had to hear the end of his statement. As he ordered for himself and Taehyung, the latter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was half expecting it to be a message from Hoseok asking him some dumb question, so when he saw your name on his screen he thought he was hallucinating. 
Y/N 12:17pm : Hope you didn’t miss me too much today
Y/N 12:17pm : Come to this
Y/N 12:17pm : You promised me next time bus boy
Attached to the messages was a photo of a party flyer he was very familiar with. It was the silly flyer Jungkook had spent around 5 minutes making to promote their party tomorrow night, and the fact that you had come across it either meant it really got around or you had a mutual friend. 
He looked up momentarily as Jungkook tapped him, motioning for him to follow to an empty table as they waited for the food. Taehyung blindly walked behind him, eyes downcast on his screen as he typed a response. 
Taehyung 12:19pm : I’ll be there
Your response was instant and it caught him off guard because you usually lagged on messages. 
Y/N 12:19pm : I’ll be waiting
But it seemed like Taehyung would be the one waiting. He was standing at the corner of the living room with a drink in his hand and his phone in the other, waiting for you to text him as his eyes scanned the current room. 
Jungkook stood beside him, animatedly talking to a cute girl who had grabbed his interest, too busy to notice his friend eyeing the room like a hawk. Taehyung wanted to wander off and find someone for himself, but the idea that you would eventually be here kept him glued to one spot. 
It was nearing midnight and people were already making messes of themselves, passed out on the couch and some even on the front lawn. Jungkook and Hoseok’s new place was more spacious than their last, but it was definitely overcrowding so people were coming in and out frequently from the front to the backyard to get some fresh air.
“I'm gonna go get another drink.” He told Jungkook, who waved him off and continued his conversation while Taehyung made his way to the kitchen. 
He used the same cup he had in his hand and filled it up with vodka and cranberry juice, his favorite drink of choice right next to drinking it straight. Then suddenly, it was like a magnet forced him to look up and over his shoulder, and that's when he spotted you and your group of friends. 
You all walked in with big smiles on your faces, one of your friends walking over to Hoseok and giving him a hug, and that's who he assumed the mutual friend was. Your hair was flipped over your shoulder as you played with it with your hands, small crop top showing just enough cleavage and your stomach, and Taehyung could just feel himself staring. 
That's when your eyes met his, and they glinted with something he couldn’t pinpoint. Your target had been acquired, and as he saw you making your way over to him he choked a bit on his drink. 
“Bus boy.” Was all you told him, a smile on your face as you easily slipped beside him against the counter, elbows resting casually on the cool surface as you leaned back.
“Hey...bus girl.” he awkwardly responded, feeling like an idiot immediately after. You only giggled, your fingers wrapping around his own on the cup as you brought it from its place against Tae’s mouth over to your own for a sip. 
“Mm, vodka cranberry?” You licked your lips, and his eyes were glued on them. “How’d you know that's my drink of choice?”
“Lucky guess?” He slowly responded back, gently taking the cup back from your grasp when you handed it over, his eyes glancing at the sticky residue your gloss left on the rim of the cup.
You were analyzing him, watching him standing there with an aura of unsureness around him. You see, you knew of Taehyung, had a couple of friends who had hooked up with him, and this is not what they described him as. They always told you he was assertive, the first to make a move and once he had he was aggressive in bed in the best way. That’s why he had caught your attention, you wanted to see how hard it would be to crack him, break him down until he was begging and pleading since he was so used to taking charge. The possibility of having him on his knees, holding on to your every word, made this sick sense of pleasure creep up your spine.
Taehyung was handsome, that wasn’t up for debate, but you could see him biting his lips almost like he had a million things he wanted to say to you but was afraid they wouldn’t come out right. Cracking him might be easier than you thought.
“Did I miss all the fun?” The question hung in the air for a moment as flashes from the night played through his head. Jungkook kicking out some dude for trying to piss in the kitchen sink, Hoseok doing a line of who knows what off some girls boobs and her boyfriend trying to fight him, among a plethora of incidents in the span of a few hours. 
“No, definitely not. The night is still young.”
You only stared at him, waiting for his eyes to finally look at yours instead of pretending like he didn't notice you. And finally, they did, narrowing a bit in suspicion as he wondered what you were thinking in your head. 
“So,” you began, confidently grabbing his drink again. “Have you taken my offer into consideration?”
He was so focused seeing your tongue lick your lips to catch the remaining moisture of the drink that he almost didn't hear your question. “I’m sorry, what offer?”
A small laugh left your lips at his question. “You really forgot already?” You only gave him a moment of silence before you continued, “The offer that involves you fucking me, or are you turning it down?”
Taehyung froze, taking in your facial expression before answering. Your mouth held the same sinfully evil smirk it always had, head tilted slightly as you handed his drink back to him and shot him a wink before you sauntered off towards your friends who had watched the entire exchange go down.
They instantly tugged your wrist and yanked you towards the sliding doors that lead to the backyard where a game of beer pong was going down. Chungha was all giggles, not being able to believe the new person of interest in your eyes was Kim Taehyung.
Taehyung on the other hand just let his eyes follow your body until the sliding door was shut once more. He had taken too long to respond to your question, his mind had been shouting at him to just blurt out that yes, he had taken your offer into consideration and he one hundred percent wanted to fuck you. Too bad his mouth decided to sew itself shut. 
He took another swig of his drink, swallowing harshly with a bit of determination set on his mind. By the end of the night he had to make a move on you, that much was for sure. He was tired of you always having the upper hand with every interaction you had. This party was his element for fucks sake, he was a seasoned pro when it came to sleeping with random girls at house parties. The only difference this time was that none of them had come on to him as boldly as you had, but that wasn’t a problem at all.
Jungkook slapped a palm on his shoulder, making his drink slosh in the cup and catching him by surprise. When Tae looked away from the sliding door and over to his left, he could see Jungkook was also looking in the same direction with a knowing smile on his face. “Oh man, she’s trouble.”
Tae’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, who?”
“Y/N, man. Who else?” He released his grip on the older one's shoulder, taking a sip of the beer in his other hand while he nodded his head in thought.
Taehyung was clearly out of the loop here, “How do you know her?” He mentally sorted through the girls he had seen Jungkook with in the past, even trying hard to remember any girls he had mentioned in passing and you had never come up.
Jungkook took another drink of his beer, wondering how to go about this carefully. He could be honest with Tae and tell him he had met you last semester at a club that was popular with the students at the university. How you had been the absolute best sex of his life for two steady months, and then suddenly dropped him without a care in the world—which would have absolutely crushed Jungkook if he let himself get attached but he hadn’t, he swore he hadn’t. He was kinda shocked and very amused that you had chosen his best friend as your new target, even if it was purely coincidental.
In the end, he decided being honest wasn’t necessary. “It’s not important, just know she’s pure trouble in the best way. Is she the bus girl you always talk about?”
That answer didn’t satisfy Tae but he was too busy thinking about how to make a move on you to dive deeper. “Yeah, she is.”
Jungkook nodded, hearing Jimin calling him from somewhere in the house with a very slurred voice. “Well, I hope you’re planning on making a move on her tonight or I’ll let all the guys know what a pussy you are.” He jostled Tae’s shoulders once more with a hearty laugh before running off towards Jimin who was surely drunk as fuck.
Outside of the house stood you and your friends, surrounding the beer pong game going on between Yoongi and Seulgi. Your eyes were peering behind you, staring through the glass doors as you watched Jungkook speaking to Taehyung for a brief moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing the small mess you might be causing between friends but not caring enough to stop it.
“This winning shot is for you gorgeous!” Yoongi shouted out, blowing a sloppy kiss out towards Sunmi before tossing the ping pong ball haphazardly towards the last remaining cup and somehow making it in. 
“That winning shot made me lose!” Sunmi erupted in laughter while everyone cheered at the end of the game. Seulgi rolled her eyes with a playful smile before chugging the last cup and walking back to your group.
“I don’t know how that fucker beat me considering his blood alcohol content should have his ass in a coma.” 
You laughed, throwing your arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to you. “It’s because Sunmi told him that she’d give him her number if he got the winning cup. I guess desperation makes boys a little more sober.”
“Pigs.” She grumbled with a laugh, watching as Sunmi and Yoongi exchanged information, both of them looking like flustered children with blushing cheeks. “Anyways, are you gonna torture that poor boy inside all night?”
“Hm,” you hummed to yourself. “Is it really torture if I gave him a way in?”
“Oh please Y/N, has any boy ever taken to your advances that quickly? You’re intimidating as fuck, in the sexiest way possible. He’s probably not used to girls telling him shit like that so he doesn’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, but Yuna told me he was blunt as fuck with her when they slept together.” Your eyes peered back inside, no longer being able to see Taehyung.
“Yuna? Kang Yuna?” You nodded, looking up at Seulgi and seeing a look of disbelief on her face, “Dude, she’s the most timid, shy, submissive girl I’ve ever met. Guys eat that shit up. That’s what guys like Taehyung are used to. You spicing it up has him second guessing everything, so I say you keep it up. Be two steps ahead of him.”
You knew she was right, even though this was an exciting game of cat and mouse for you, you'd be lying if you said you weren’t slightly interested in him for more than just a one night stand. 
“You gonna play?” Chunga popped in beside you, a grin on her face as she held a white ping pong ball in her hands. You smiled back and gave her a nod, letting her tug you towards the table being set up.
Yoongi stood wobbling on the other side, claiming to want to hold on to his winning title but the boy was clearly close to passing out from the amount of alcohol in his system. That was when another boy stood beside him, his frame towering over Yoongi’s and a charming smile on his plump lips as he tried to coax Yoongi into going inside to drink some water.
Chungha hummed in approval as she took his appearance in. “Wow he’s...”
“Yummy?”
She snorted out, “Oh yeah, definitely yummy.”
Yoongi was bickering with said yummy boy until Sunmi approached him again and put on her best flirtatious look to get him to follow her inside the house. He was done for after that, handing his friend the ball in his hand with a lazy wave, his half lidded eyes trailing down Sunmi’s body as she dragged him behind her. He probably thought he would be getting laid tonight but Sunmi was in mom mode, so unless he was ready to down a gallon of water and sober up, the only thing he would be doing is going straight to sleep.
“Hey, yummy guy, are you playing or not?”
He looked startled by the nickname, his hand coming up to point at his chest in confusion. When you and Chungha gave him a look that said yeah you his mouth opened up slightly before he was smiling again. “Yummy? Wow, can’t say I’m opposed to being called that.” He started to laugh at that and Chungha sighed at the sound, yup she was a sucker. 
“I don’t have a partner to play against you two.”
You stepped back from the table with a shrug. “Don’t mind me, he’s all yours Chungha.”
They instantly started chatting with each other, playful threats and possible bets being made for whoever lost this game, but you weren’t planning on staying to watch this go down. The friends you had left on the sidelines watched you saunter away and they knew exactly where you were headed.
You wandered inside the crowded home and let your eyes scan the room, the kitchen was immediately to the left of you, a group of boys huddled around the alcohol as they made drinks, but no sign of Taehyung. Grabbing the lone vodka bottle from the counter, you took a quick swig before you resumed your hunt, ignoring the nasty burn to your throat. 
A few more steps inside towards the living room didn’t reveal him either, too many bodies moving together to some random beat playing through the speakers placed around. There was a hallway to the left and another to the right, you chose to go towards the right side, side stepping random cups left on the floor. 
A few voices were at the end of the hall, coming out of the only open door so you continued near them, desperate to see a familiar face until you came to a stop in front of the bathroom. You rested your shoulder against the door frame, seeing Jungkook leaning over his friend’s hunched form as he clung to the toilet bowl. Although this was a familiar face, he was not the one you were searching for. 
As if sensing your presence, he looked up and over at you, a gentle smile gracing his face when he saw it was you. “You got the invite I see.”
You smiled back at him. “I did. So did the rest of my friends, you know, from Hoseok.” The drunken friend on the floor dry heaved for a moment, making Jungkook look back down at them and pat their back. 
“He’s probably on the front lawn smoking by the way.” He spoke again, not needing you to explain who you were looking for, and you were grateful because you weren’t in the mood to play dumb. 
You pushed off the door frame and stepped back, hearing him shout out a sarcastic ‘I know you miss me’ as you walked away. “Save it Jeon!” You playfully shouted back. You knew he missed you, he had told you plenty of times ever since you decided to stop sleeping with him. 
Of course Jeon Jungkook had been a good fuck, having been one of your favorite switches. Very true to his reputation, he could fuck you all night long with no issues, bringing you to orgasm enough times until you were crying for him to stop, while also letting you tie him up until he was the one begging—but he’d gotten attached. 
He could deny it all he wanted, but you sensed the change instantly. It creeped up in moments where he’d ask you to spend the night instead of leaving after hooking up, seeping into him asking you to hang out in day to day life instead of just 3am booty calls. And that just wasn’t something you were interested in having at the time. It wasn’t a jab at Jungkook, he was a nice guy if you were being honest, but that was old news. 
So as the music blasted in the house, sounding muffled to your ears, you walked with a purpose, weaving in between people as you crossed the living room and reached the front door. 
The fresh air met you the second you pushed the door open, loud bass spilling out of the house and into the front lawn, dimly lit up by the porch light. It allowed you to instantly spot Taehyung, a barely lit blunt between his fingers as he spoke to a taller boy beside him. At the sound of the door opening they both looked over in your direction, the taller one offering you a smile while Taehyung took a drag and gave you a nervous wave. 
You weren’t going to bother talking to him out here, he turned into a deer caught in headlights whenever you did so you just walked over to him, plucked the blunt from between his fingers and handed it to his friend before wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him behind you. The two of you needed to be alone, not around drunk party goers, or both of your nosey friends. 
Taehyung didn’t resist at all, looking over at Namjoon and seeing his friend had a shit eating grin on his face as he got dragged inside. You clearly had a mission, shoving your way through the sea of bodies again as you trekked to the opposite hallway this time, going for the only room on this side of the house. 
The bedroom door got thrown open and thankfully no one was inside of it. Taehyung slammed the door shut behind him and locked it as you turned to face him, inches separating you and you let out a soft breath at the close proximity. “Do you want this?”
His mind fogged over briefly as he watched your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal more skin. “Yes, I do.” 
Those were the words to set it all in motion, hands yanking your shift off your body and tossing it aside, leaving you standing in your bra for him to ogle at. 
“Better than the photos huh?” you tease with a honey-sweet voice, reminding him of his deep dive onto your blog while your hands slid behind your back to unhook your bra and let it completely slide off. 
Taehyung couldn’t help but stare as your hands came up to give your boobs a squeeze. “Fuck.”
He stepped forward, wanting to finally touch you but you tsk in disapproval, shaking your finger at him and it just made him pout. Isn’t that what you wanted from him?
His breath hitched in his throat when you stepped even closer, tips of your fingers trailing from his shoulders to his chest, down to the hem, bunching the fabric in your grasp as you tugged it up and off of him. His arms raised up with no protest as you undressed him, wide eyes just watching your every move, ready to do whatever you asked of him. It was so out of character for him, but that much could be said about every interaction he’s had with you so he goes with the flow of it all. 
Goosebumps rose up on his tan skin as you trailed your hands down to play with the button on his jeans, fiddling with it to tease him. You wanted to cover his chest and stomach in hickeys, marking every inch of him up, bruising and teasing him until he was pleading for you to suck his cock. There was just something about him that made you want to see him flushed and desperate. 
He could see you lost in thought as you stared at his body, now hyper aware of the fact that he wasn’t absolutely ripped, but you liked that. His arms came up again in an attempt to pull you in to kiss you, but you stopped him once more, finally snapping out of your daze.
“Do you deserve to touch me?” His mind blanked at your tone, the slight edge he had heard the first time you spoke was back, and something about it made his body tingle. “Hm?” you hummed when he remained quiet.
That glint in your eye returned and his head shook without him realizing, no he didn’t deserve to touch you.
“Take it all off and lay on the bed,” you spoke sternly, the smirk on your face growing when he did as you said. His body hunched over and stumbled as he stripped out of his pants and boxers, his shoes and socks long gone beside them. Taehyung followed instructions and laid on the bed, feeling a little guilty that poor Hoseok’s bed would be defiled like this, but when you slid off your own pants and underwear he couldn’t find himself to care anymore. 
His cock was already hard and twitching as it laid against his stomach, and he could feel the small pool of precum gathering under his belly button, leaving a sticky mess on his skin. You hadn’t even touched him and he was this riled up already, terrified he would cum the second you decided to touch him, so his hand came to grasp the base of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze.
That action wasn’t lost on you as you slowly approached him, your knees resting on the mattress while you shuffled towards his body. Your fingertips trailed up his thighs softly, going around his cock and up his chest where your nails lightly grazed his nipple. His body shuddered at the touch, and the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the reaction made him nervous.
You swung your leg over his waist, hovering above his skin but not making contact just yet. Taehyung had never been patient, his eagerness getting the best of him, and just as his hands rose up—about to touch your hips and force you to plop down on his cock—your own hands reacted, grasping his before he could touch you and bringing them above his head, successfully catching him off guard. 
“You said you don’t deserve to touch me.”
His eyes widened in realization, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a way to take back the words that he said earlier. Fuck, he wanted to touch you, he could see your pussy hovering inches over his cock, and he bet he could slide right into you from how wet you looked, already picturing the feeling of your warmth as he sunk into you. 
Your hands grasped both of his wrists, leaving his arms pinned above his head as your other hand reached down, and he held his breath. There was a brief moment where he thought you’d show him mercy, hoping you were going to grab his dick from between your bodies, but when he saw your index and middle fingers part your lower lips he let a groan escape him. You trailed them up your slit and back down to circle around your entrance with a quiet hum, bringing your fingers back up in front of Taehyung’s eyes, watching him stare at them in awe as you separated them and your slick strung across from them.
“It’s a shame.” Your eyes trailed up to his hands again, seeing them clenched together in your grasp. “I’d love to have your hands inside me, but maybe next time.”
“No,” he croaked out, hips desperately lifting up in hopes of grinding into your pussy but he fell short. “Please, let me touch you.”
The begging satisfied the sick itch you were hoping to scratch, leaving you grinning above him. You had just started, yet his eyebrows were already furrowed, eyes locked in a trance on your fingers that were still in front of his face. 
“Not today, baby. Do you want a taste though?” He was nodding the second the proposal left your mouth. Taehyung licked his lips in desperation, mouth opening up as you brought them towards his lips, his neck craning forward and wrapping his lips around your fingers to taste the remnants of your arousal. His tongue flicked between your fingers as he sucked like his life depended on it, the urgency displayed had more wetness gushing out of you, and when Taehyung’s eyes darted towards his abdomen, he saw that some of it had dripped onto the skin below where you hovered.
You pulled your fingers out of his mouth and brought them back between your legs to tease yourself further. “Fuck, this could’ve been you doing this to me Taehyung.” You gasped out as your fingers flicked over your clit repeatedly and he whimpered, head falling back to rest on the pillows because he couldn’t take watching you get yourself off above him while his dick lay hard and leaking right below you.
You snickered to yourself, finally deciding to take some pity on the man, reaching below you to grasp his cock. His neck tensed up at the action, head whipping back up to make sure he wasn’t imaging anything. But there you were, small hands barely wrapping around his thick cock as you gave it a gentle tug. Your fingers were covered in your slick, making the glide feel delicious, spreading your arousal around his length and mixing with his own in a sinful combination. 
Taehyung’s chest heaved slightly as you picked up your pace, your fingers coming up to play with his pink tip before going back down quickly, hands set to tease him. He was trying to stop himself from moaning, you already had his arms restrained, he didn't want to give you this much power over him, but when your hands came down to fondle his balls he couldn’t hold back the needy whine that left him. The desperation behind him just made your pussy clench, and you really wish he could fuck you, but you weren’t going to let him get his way this easily, not when he hadn’t worked for it.
“Keep your hands there.” You spoke firmly as you released your grasp on them, smirking at his obedience when his fingers chose to wrap around the poles of the headboard behind him instead. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do, but he was hoping your next move would be sinking onto his cock. 
“Wait,” he spoke up as you placed both your hands on his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he admitted, face scrunching up when he saw you freeze in your action of dropping down on top of him.
“Oh,” you cooed, left hand coming up to cup his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry about that.” His heart was torn because although he loved going without a condom, he didn’t know you enough to trust continuing without one. “You’re not fucking me.”
And now his heart was shredded, thrown into a dumpster, and set on fire. “What?”
Your fingers traced his cheek softly as you smiled at him. “Only good boys get to fuck me and you—“ you patted his skin in a gentle, yet firm, slap. “—haven’t been good.” 
A pout forms on his lips because now he’s desperate, and also confused. Why would you strip out of all your clothes just to tease him like this? Were you going to finish yourself off on top of him and just leave? He wasn’t entirely against that scenario because he’s sure it would be hot as fuck, but his dick was literally throbbing.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you had shuffled down a bit and rested your dripping pussy right on top of his cock, your lips parting slightly as you rocked your hips forward. And then he was gasping, his hands detaching from the headboard and instinctively wanting to grab your hips, but they stopped an inch or so away, catching his own mistake. His fingers remained trembling in the air, a moan finally leaving his lips at the feeling of you grinding on his cock, the relief of you not leaving him high and dry taking over.
Keeping your palms on his chest, you used them as leverage to help you move, a wicked smile on your face when you saw the internal debate he was having. He could touch you if he really wanted to, he could say fuck your rules and grip your hips so hard they’d bruise, but he didn’t. He listened to you, his shaking hands retreating back to the headboard with a groan of restraint.
“Good boy,” you spoke softly, his cock twitching at the praise. He liked this, the foreign feeling of being pliant underneath you, letting you call all of the shots, it was igniting a warmth inside of him that he never expected. 
Taehyung could feel his stomach becoming a sticky mess from his precum and your wetness dripping down from his cock, but he didn’t care, he loved when it was messy, loved hearing the squelching sound filling the room every time you rocked your hips. The fact that you were this drenched from teasing him just turned him on more, and he really wanted to say fuck it and ask you to sink onto his cock, but you told him to be a good boy so that’s what he would do.
“Feel good?”
“S-so good,” he whined out, breathy and strained, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to it. 
His thighs were tense and aching, forcing himself to not thrust forward in fear that you’d stop what you were doing, small moans leaving his lips when the tip of his cock would brush against your clit. He looked fucked out underneath you, eyes blown open as he locked onto the spot between you two, watching his messy cock peek out between your legs when you’d grind your hips back.
Taehyung had never cum from doing this, it was something he had never tried before; he was used to the quickness of fucking at parties, some fingering being involved before he slid in from behind. But he could feel himself edging closer to his release embarrassingly fast, the sinful moans leaving your mouth only aiding in pushing him over faster.
You had a good rhythm going, his cock trapped between his stomach and your pussy, and even though he was trying his best not to be vocal, you could see he was close to falling apart. His hands were clenching the headboard so hard they were paling, and if that wasn’t enough of an indication his face surely said it all. 
Leaning over his body, you let your face inch closer to his as you sped up your hips. At your proximity Taehyung finally spoke up, “Can I-fuc—” he shuddered, “—can I please kiss you?”
Your eyebrow cocked up at his request, not expecting that to be what he wanted from you. “You want to kiss me?”
Taehyung's dark hair bounced on his head as he nodded frantically. “Yes,” he gasped out, squirming underneath you as you bucked harder on top of him.
He wanted to kiss you, your lips looked so soft and shiny, and he wanted to feel them on top of his. Honestly what he really wanted was to flip you over and fuck you senseless—he had the power to—the weight of you on him was nothing he couldn’t overpower, but something about you being in control of his pleasure was doing things to him.
When your hair grazed his chest from you dropping down, his heart skipped but your lips chose to kiss his neck instead, small traces and licks on his skin as you trailed up towards his jaw until finally you reached his lips. They were tacky from your lip gloss but he didn’t care, they felt as soft as he imagined, and when you snuck your tongue into the mix Taehyung whimpered into your mouth. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, pleasure rolling over him in waves that only intensified when you wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked. 
You could feel his body tensing up from underneath you, his climax creeping up on him, so you rocked faster, sinking your teeth into his plump bottom lip and tugging back. That was the final push before he was cumming, face screwed up the same way it was on the bus and a rough groan that you swallowed with another kiss.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
Another moan spilled out as you continued your movements, feeling his cum splashing up towards his chest from the force, some of it dribbling down his cock and settling onto your pussy. “Wow,” you mused, lips pulling back from his and looking down to see the mess he had made, his breathing continuing to shudder until you came to a stop.
Taehyung kept his grip on the headboard, a lot more limp than before, vision hazy from his orgasm and entire body tingling. You lifted up from him and shuffled further down, licking the trail of cum on his stomach with a grin when you noticed how his sensitive cock twitched at the visual. 
Trying to save face, he turned his head into his upper arm to shield himself, the small burn of embarrassment felt at the fact that he had just blown his load from you grinding on him in record time.
You weren’t finished with him yet though, your body still slowly sliding down him, fingers leaving feather-like touches on his skin that he mistook as you soothing his shuddering body, until they grasped his cock.
“Oh,” he winced, feeling your fingers grazing his sensitive dick, your mouth quickly enveloping it, making his back arch from the sudden sensation. It was no secret that Taehyung had a love for overstimulation, constantly toeing the line between pain and pleasure when he continued to jack off after cumming, but your warm mouth was new.
His sore fingers released the headboard, elbows straightening up because he had to watch this, had to burn this point of view into his mind forever. You were crouched at the bottom of the bed on your knees, ass up in the air as you swallowed his cock, your tongue swirling around it when you felt it start to harden again.
“H-hurts,” he admitted with his hips twitching, not sure if he wanted to thrust into your mouth or back away. Your hands rested on his hips to stop them from moving as his dick slipped out of your mouth with a pop.
“You want me to stop?” One hand was lazily jerking him as you spoke, his dick twitching in your grasp once more. 
No, no he was loving this. The pleasure was sharp but it was spreading a warmth throughout his body. Could he cum again?
He was clearly having a hard time deciding if he wanted you to stop or not, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he moaned softly, but Taehyung liked the pain, you could tell.
When your mouth took him in again he gasped lewdly, his elbows giving out and letting him flop back on the bed with a thump, fingers gripping the crumpled sheets beneath him. “No, no,” he whimpered again when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. “Don’t stop, god.”
He could feel you smirking around his cock, your tongue coming out to flick the tip of his dick, red and swollen and once again dripping. One of your hands wrapped around the part you couldn’t reach, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth; the other was dipped between your own thighs, fingers sinking into your cunt and thrusting them to match your motions.
Taehyung had his hands gripping onto the bed sheets to stop them from tangling into your hair and forcing you to take all of him, but his head peeked up, and when he saw you playing with yourself he sat back up, hips finally coming up to thrust into your mouth. Whimpers of pain and pleasure filled the room, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he felt pressure start to bloom in his lower stomach. 
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle having another orgasm, every time he’d hit the back of your throat he felt the wind get knocked out of him, knees acting on reflex and shooting up to try to squirm away from your grasp.
The want to scold him was strong but you were getting closer to cumming, and seeing him losing control only made you moan around his cock. You pulled your fingers out of yourself, and with a few more flicks on your clit you were cumming. Taehyung watched in awe as your hips stuttered, and the moan you let out just urged him to keep thrusting into your mouth. 
His fingers were sore from the grip he had on the sheets and when he saw the drool leaking out of your mouth as you sunk all the way down, he finally felt the band snap, a throaty moan leaving his lips as he bowed his back into the mattress, the pain and pleasure blending together beautifully and bringing him to one of the best orgasms of his life. This load was a lot smaller than the last, but he was completely spent now, body lying limp on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.
Swallowing the cum on your tongue with a smirk, you took him in your mouth once more to tease, pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his soft cock. 
“Such a good boy.” You teased as you made your way back up to him with a genuine smile on your face. Your soft lips pressed against his again, mouth opening up and he could taste himself on your tongue but he didn’t mind it. With a little hesitance, his hand came up to finally touch you, fingers tangling into your hair as he deepened the kiss, your teeth clashing together a few times because he couldn’t get enough. 
He watched as you pulled back from him, your tongue tracing your lips while you flipped your hair behind you again. “You know, you’re pretty when you cum.” And he doesn’t know why, but the statement made him blush. No one had ever told him he looked pretty when he came.
“Thank you?”
You giggled, still on top of him. “You’re welcome. I’ll be thinking of it when I touch myself later.” You gave him another quick peck before you got off of him and started putting your clothes back on. Taehyung was in a state of shock as he observed you, he had cum twice and still hadn’t fucked you, and you were very clearly getting a kick out of it. 
A final adjustment was done to your skirt before running your fingers through your hair, looking back at him still limp on his friend's bed, limbs resembling jello. It was cute, but you knew you had to trail him along further so you shot him a wink, opening up the bedroom door and waltzing out like you hadn’t just ruined him.
The haze that surrounded him whenever you were around him faded as you left and Taehyung sprung into action with a yelp, wrapping Hoseok's comforter around his naked body when he saw that you left the door open. Luckily no one was around, but he still rushed up with the sheets to close the door, legs feeling a little wobbly. With the door securely locked, he rested his weight against it, letting Hoseok’s ruined sheets fall from his body into a heap on the floor, his hand coming up to run through his messy hair.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned in disbelief, balling up the sheets and stuffing them into the small hamper by the closet, they barely fit but it didn’t matter. Taehyung felt lost and a little unsatisfied, he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel completely satisfied until he actually fucked you. All he had to do was say it, you were dangling it right in front of him and he was too tongue tied to tell you how he actually felt. It was like all vocabulary and sense of communication was wiped clean whenever you were within a certain radius of him.
He slid back into his clothes, grabbing the tissues Hoseok conveniently had next to his bed, and wiped the small residue that was still on his stomach before he put his shirt back on. When his heart stopped pounding and he thought he was decent, he exited the room. Taehyung was set on finding you and speaking to you like a normal human being, his mind now cleared after those orgasms, so he felt sort of confident that he’d be able to get out a coherent sentence without sounding like an insecure loser.
Jungkook spotted him as he emerged from the hallway, his bunny smile spreading across his face when he saw how disheveled his friend looked, and considering he had seen you exit from that same spot minutes prior he knew what had gone down.
“Hey buddy.” Jungkook cooed obnoxiously, hands coming up to squeeze Taehyung's cheek, his fingers rubbing off the leftover residue of your lipgloss from his skin. He was drunk, breath smelling like vodka and his eyes glazed over, the classic dopey Jungkook smile on his face. Taehyung swatted his hands away from him with a grimace but Jungkook just slid beside him, slinging his arm across his shoulders and dragging him to the kitchen to get even more alcohol.
“So you fucked her right?” Taehyung accepted the drink, taking a sip as his eyes searched the room for you just like they had earlier.
“Sure,” he responded, not wanting to tell his friend that although you were both naked on top of each other and you had forced two orgasms out of him, he had not in fact been able to slide his dick inside of you.
Jungkook was too drunk to comprehend that sure didn’t exactly mean yes so he whooped, throwing his arms in the air with a laugh, and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile at his younger friend. 
“Have you seen her by the way?”
Jungkook thought back to when he spotted you leaving Hoseok’s room, you had a look of satisfaction on your face as you walked through the house and headed for the backyard. You emerged back out with one of your friends beside you and you both laughed as you made a swift exit out of Jungkook’s house entirely. It was pretty obvious you wouldn’t be coming back.
“She definitely left.”
Taehyung could feel his heart sink at that. He should’ve spoken to you when you were both alone in the room instead of lying there in his post orgasmic glow. Too late. 
He slid his phone out and decided he had to text you. The black line flickered on his phone, taunting him, waiting for him to type anything out, but he was stuck. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for the orgasms with a stupid emoji tacked at the end?
Taehyung 1:48am : You left so fast, get home safe
That’s what he settled on, and his eyes stayed glued on the phone when he saw the notification that you read it, three dots popping up as you typed a response back.
Y/N 1:52am : Sorry friend needed to get home and I was her ride.
Y/N 1:52am : Think about me tonight yeah? Goodnight busboy.
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Taehyung thought about you alright. He thought about you often, frequently replaying the events that had happened that night as his fist wrapped around his cock on those nights where he was beyond desperate to cum.
The both of you hadn’t spoken much since the night of Hoseok and Jungkook’s party, due to the fact that finals were approaching and as much as you enjoyed this game you had with him, you also knew you needed to pass the classes you had. Taehyung doesn’t fault you for that, he was on the same boat, and if you had continued to tease him on the bus or through text message while he was already on the verge of a mental breakdown, he wasn’t sure he could survive it.
So it came as no surprise that when the semester came and went, the communication was once again severed, no longer having the morning commute to share together as winter break started.
Taehyung still thought of you often, every time you uploaded something onto your social media he stared at it for a minute too long, fingers urging to send you a message and start a conversation; but considering everything that had transpired between you two had been purely sexual he wasn’t sure a ‘haha funny meme’ message was going to get him very far.
When the second week of break rolled around and Taehyung started to go out with his friends, you began to slip his mind, the small acceptance of whatever you two had going fizzling away from his thoughts. He wondered if you forgot about him already, maybe you were home visiting family and had your sights set on another person.
With that thought engraved in his mind he allowed himself to go out with Jimin and Namjoon on a Saturday night, the three of them being the few of his friends that lived in the city and weren’t going home to their family for the holidays. They stood by the bar of some club closer to Jimin’s apartment, deeper into the city, a place Jimin swore the hottest girls frequented and when Taehyung scoped the crowd he took notice that Jimin was right.
It only took two shots to loosen him up enough to ease onto the dance floor, and only a few more minutes until a pretty redhead spotted him and made her way over, her hands trailing up onto his shoulder as she moved her hips in time with his. He smirked down at her, her eyes gleaming up at him while her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she’s definitely his usual type. The way she gripped onto him when he slid his thigh in between her legs, how she easily gave in to the way he kissed his way into her mouth, eager to let him have his way with her. It’s no shock that he found himself tucked away in a corner of the club, letting her hands roam his chest as she latched her lips onto his neck while he dipped his hands under the hem of her skirt to play with her covered slit. It’s messy and he’s the one leading the way, it's familiar for him, but he can’t stop the small craving inside of him for something else, something different.  
She whimpered into his mouth, not at all shy about being out in the open, and he can feel his cock throbbing at the thought of another girl that isn’t you for the first time—and you must have a sixth sense—there's no other explanation for him besides that when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
The nameless redhead whined at the loss of contact when he pulled his hand back to grab his phone, but he shushed her with a kiss, telling her he needed a minute. And that's all the convincing she needed to continue sucking hickeys into his neck.
When his phone lit up and he saw your name on his lock screen he blanked, eyes roaming behind him when he looked back to check if maybe you were here and that's why you were texting him. But when he unlocked the phone and saw the message you sent, it was oh so obvious that you were definitely not at the club.
The revelation of the photo you had sent catches him so off guard, he almost drops his phone, the device slipping through his fingers until he reacts and slammed it against his chest so hard to not let it clatter to the ground. The action winded him, the sharp pain of his phone wacking his chest had him wincing and it got the girl's attention.
Leaning back as her curious eyes peeked up to stare at him, instead she found herself staring at his chest, her face oddly lit up. The realization settled within him now, noticing that he must have flipped the phone over when he caught it and she was now clearly looking at the photo of you naked. The jaw dropping nudes you had sent, showcasing your boobs with your fingers on your nipple, wet with your arousal; and the second photo of your pussy on display had taken his breath away, but all it got him was a glare and a shove to his chest from the red head, muttering out that he was a pig as she pushed her way back to her friends.
He gulped as he flipped the phone around and analyzed the photo, a deep groan leaving him, because god dammit he had just started to come to terms that whatever you had was old news. You were always keeping him on his toes, it was going to fuck with his heart and his health.
Taehyung turned around and squinted through the flashing lights to hopefully find his friends, spotting Namjoon with a drink in one hand, his other clutching onto a blonde as they danced together, and he made his way over to him. 
“I’m gonna head out,” he mumbled into Namjoon’s ear, ignoring the confused glance he gave him. The clear translation being: what the hell.
“We just got here.”
Taehyung knew this but he can’t hang around here with the thrumming bass and dance with other girls when you had just sent him these fucking photos. “Yeah, I don’t feel so hot. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take an uber just let Jimin know.”
Namjoon could only nod, not really wanting to separate himself from the cute girl he had grown fond of, but he would be forcing Taehyung to come out with them again next week. He just watched as his friend slipped through the crowd of the club until he stepped out. 
When the cold air hit him Taehyung gulped it down, hands pressing against his face as he sighed and walked towards the brickwall on the side of the club. He couldn’t do this anymore, and with the alcohol numbing his common sense he didn’t think twice as he pulled his phone back out and opened up your message again, rechecking that you had in fact sent him those photos. And when he saw that you had, obscene photos still filling up his screen, he clicked the phone button and gave you a call.
He swore you weren’t going to answer him as the ring droned out, but when it cut off and all he heard is silence, he held his breath, wide eyes focusing on the cars driving on the street in front of him.
“Hi.” 
Oh fuck.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He spoke out so softly, pleading into the phone as he grabbed a chunk of his hair in between his fingers.
“Would you rather I didn’t?” you hummed, phone pressed against your shoulder and ear as you lazily trailed a finger up and down your stomach.
“No!” he shouted, wincing when he saw other club goers give him an odd look. “No, but why me? We haven’t even spoken lately.”
“We’re speaking right now.”
He remained silent, not knowing how to respond to you, but he keeps the phone pressed against his ear, the soft sound of you breathing being the only noise he hears—until there's a small moan. It makes his blood run cold, eyes slipping shut as he imagined why you had made that noise.
“What are you doing?” He finds himself getting the courage to ask, enjoying the small laugh you let out as you admitted to touching yourself, so nonchalant and carefree about the fact that you were still the leading cause to his blue balls.
Taehyung was slightly tipsy, his mind whirling as he pictured your fingers sinking into your pussy like they had that night, the pretty sounds you had let out as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock and he groans. “Do you really enjoy making me suffer?”
“Oh, are you suffering?” you cooed into the receiver. “You know all you have to do is say it.”
He knew this, oh god did he know this and right now he’s way too lost in it all to even feel the embarrassment or unsureness he usually does when he’s around you, so he asks—no begs—to finally fuck you. “Please, please let me fuck you Y/N.”
Your own eyes shut as he said this, fingers coming back up to rest on your stomach while you sat up in your bed with a smile on your face, focusing on the object beside your bed. “Okay, I’ll let you, if you let me try something on you first.”
Taehyung doesn’t even care to ask what the hell you meant by that, his mind already set on fucking you, and when he agreed without a second thought you text him your address, your head whirling at whats to come.
Taehyung didn’t even realize when he got to your place, running on autopilot fueled by pure hormones as he got into the taxi and managed to somehow get to your apartment in one piece.
His fingers were shaking slightly as he punched in the code you had given him, the main door buzzing as it unlocked, and it's then that it hits him, he's actually here. He had actually voiced his want for you and now he was here, fuck.
You sat patiently on your living room couch, a soft oversized shirt on as you waited for him to make his way up. You had buzzed him in about a minute ago, so when you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching in the hallway, you knew it was him.
The gentle knock against your door had you hopping up from your spot, slowly approaching it and pressing your eye against the peep hole to catch a glance at him. He stood a foot or so away, eyes squinting at his phone and back up at the number to make sure it was the right place, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of a neighbor. 
Once you pulled open the door, you could tell he was nervous, hair a little messy on top of his head and face looking slightly flushed, but he stood up straight and gave you a smile.
“Hi,” he utters out, walking into your place when you stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. He half expected your apartment to look like a sex dungeon, dark and dim, covered in leather with a sex swing in the corner, but its surprisingly normal.
The soft pastel pinks and oranges greeting him is definitely not what he imagined but he likes it, his eyes locking onto a watermelon plushie with button eyes tucked into the edge of your couch.
“Taehyung, do you want some water?” you offer, wanting to ease him into this, but he just shakes his head, turning back around to face you and it's then that he realized you’re only wearing a shirt.
“If you’re drunk we don’t have to do this right now.”
Taehyung heard you loud and clear, but he can’t look away from your chest, every time he blinks he could see the image of your tits thanks to the picture you had graciously provided him with. It’s killing him because he knew you were currently bare underneath the thin shirt you have on.
To be honest he wasn’t drunk, barely even tipsy, the small amount of liquor he consumed tonight was way less than his normal amount. He felt woozy enough around you on a normal day, but he knew he definitely wasn’t too drunk to do what he had come here to do.
“No, I’m good. I swear.”
The determination in his tone was very clear but you still waited for him to stop blatantly staring at the way your nipples poked through the fabric of your shirt, until finally his gaze locked with yours, following behind you as you led the way to your bedroom.
When he entered your room his eyes were drawn to your bed, fluffy and inviting, draped in a soft peach duvet with light pillows, but knowing the absolutely filthy things you most likely did on it killed the small sense of innocence he initially felt. Especially when he spots the hitachi wand resting pretty at the edge of the bed.
You were staring at his profile when he spotted it and you saw the way he swallowed, wide eyes bulging out as he analyzed the toy. Was this what you had been using when you answered his phone call? He wasn’t sure, he hadn’t heard anything in the background...maybe it was one of those fancy zero noise ones.
When he heard you giggle he snapped out of it, turning to face you with curious eyes. 
“Have you never seen one?” Taehyung remained silent as he thought, but it's pretty clear he hadn’t. There was never time for sex toys with one night stands in random houses, sure he had seen them in porn but real life felt different. He wished he had, he didn’t want to use this on you and fumble around and make a bigger fool of himself.
“I take it you’ve never used one then?” you ask again as you walk over to it, picking it up gently in your hands and approaching Taehyung thanks to the fact that it was wireless.
He could only shake his head, staring at it in your grasp as your fingers glided over the plastic handle, your thumb flicking it on and smiling when the low hum filled the room. It's on the lowest setting but that didn’t stop you from beginning to get excited.
“Would you let me try this on you Taehyung?”
He looked utterly confused by your question, not at all expecting to be on the receiving end of this. What did you mean by that?
“You mean like shove it up my ass?” He could see you trying not to laugh at him, biting your lip as you shook your head. 
“No, it's not a dildo Tae. Use it here.” You reached out until it was gently pressed against his crotch, the wand buzzing over his jeans. He let out a grunt at the feeling, head dropping down to stare at the white silicone head weakly vibrating on him, taking a moment to get over the initial shock. He chalked it up to being slightly under the influence, but he really wanted you to turn it up.
It was clear to see how mesmerized he was by the device so you flicked it up a level, relishing in the small gasp he let out as his jaw dropped. It was barely a flutter of pleasure, but something about it excited him, had him craving more so he looked up at you, glassy eyes and all. 
“You can do whatever you want to me.” He felt no shame when he told you that, groaning once more when you applied a hint of pressure against him.
The way your body reacted to his words was pure instinct, him admitting to letting you do as you please unhinged you. He saw it in the way you bit your lip, your eyes roaming his face until they dragged down his body, landing on his now half hard cock with the vibrating head of the wand still pressing against it.
“Fuck, please,” he begged, and when you retract the wand he almost takes it back. That is, until you were pulling him in, one hand tugging at his shirt until he's flushed against you, your lips meeting his in a frenzy, swallowing the moan he let out into the kiss. His hands stayed at his sides, not sure if he was allowed to touch you again considering you had told him not to last time, and you smirked when you realized it. Taehyung knew he would only be able to touch you if he deserved it, your words being engraved in his brain, and he was planning on earning that tonight.
“Good boy, you remembered.” you whispered out, lips brushing against his as you spoke. His eyes remained shut, the only indication that he heard being the small nod he gave you. Your hand inched up from the grasp you had in his shirt until you’re cupping his cheek gently.
“You see what happens when you’re good?” You kissed him again, pulling back once he started to press harder into you. “You get rewarded.” His breath shuddered against your face at the promise of being rewarded, and you smiled while reaching down to grab his hand and gently tugged him closer towards your bed, your right hand still holding the wand loosely by your side as he followed along.
“Do you want me–“ he paused to take a breath when you turned back around to face him. “Do you want me to strip?” His voice sounded so soft, unsure if asking you was the right thing to do, but him asking you this showed you that you’d managed to create another sliver in his outer shell. One step closer to cracking him.
You gave him another gentle kiss, nodding as you stepped back from him, eyes trained on his body while he began to tug at the black shirt he had tucked into his jeans, the material slowly sliding off his body and revealing his tan skin.
He didn’t feel uneasy at your staring this time around, being able to tell you’re clearly enjoying the view of him slowly undressing, your eyes focusing on his cock as it sprung out when he slid out of his briefs. Your hand clutched onto the wand a little tighter, fingers hovering over the power button with newfound enthusiasm, eager to make him squirm at the new sensation. And when he took  it upon himself to settle onto your bed without you having to ask, you withheld the urge to clap in excitement.
Taehyung waited with baited breath when you kneeled onto the bed, shuffling your way up his body and setting the toy by his side, his body flinching slightly when the cool plastic touched his skin as it rolled on the bed. Resting your weight on your left hand, settled by his shoulder while your right hand softly cupped his cheek as you inched closer. His eyes looked at your lips before looking back down to his own hands, an unspoken question hanging off his tongue.
“My hands?” Is all he managed to get out, the rest of the question dying when he made eye contact but you only raised your brows up, making him realize he needed to be more specific. “Do you want them grabbing the headboard again?”
Leaning forward to kiss him once more, you smirked, witnessing how such a simple question could embarrass him so much due to him being in a different position than he was used to. “Ideally I’d want them cuffed and behind your back.” He shut his eyes at your words, cock throbbing as he pictured himself the way you wanted him. “But not today. Just keep them on the bed. Can you do that?”
Taehyung felt your lips press against his again and he nodded. “Y-yeah, yeah I can.”
He could feel you hum against his skin, the hand that was cupping his cheek beginning to trail down his chest, passing his navel until you reached his dick, fingers wrapping around him and beginning to slide your palm up and down. “Good.”
He sighed into your mouth as your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, twisting as it came up in a slow motion, wanting to ease him into the pleasure of it so as to not scare him when you grab the wand again. It only took a few minutes until he’s kissing you more relaxed, body sagging into the bed as he grunt softly into your mouth whenever you focused on his swollen tip; and that's when you reached over to your bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube you had with your lips still attached to him.
They separate with a light smack, and you rest back onto his thighs, taking a moment to take him in, the way he’s laid out on your bed, chest heaving slightly while his weeping dick sat against his stomach. He watched you intently as you uncapped the lube you have, dropping a generous amount into your palm and wrapping it around his cock again. Taehyung hissed at the cool sensation, stomach tensing when you began a fluid motion only set on spreading the liquid, but he still groaned because he knew what was next.
You tried not to let the overt excitement show on your face when you reached over and grabbed the wand once more, thumb flicking it on to the lowest setting and pressing it against his thigh first, observing the way he jumped slightly at the sensation. “I know you’ve never used this before,” you start, trailing the vibrating head up onto his stomach and back down to his other thigh, dipping down slightly towards the center but staying off his cock. “So, you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any moment okay?”
His thighs are tensing up already, getting desperate to feel something, anything. “Like a safe word?”
“Sure,” you hummed, staring back at his face and seeing the distraught look on it. He wasn’t sure why the idea of a safe word sent his mind into a flurry, he had never used one and having to think of one that he’d remember seemed almost impossible at the moment. “Or we can make it easy. You know traffic lights?”
He nodded. “Great. If you say green everything's going good, yellow is if you start to feel uncomfortable or need me to slow down, red is if you need me to stop completely. You say these at any time.”
You’re continuing to tease him as you explained this and Taehyung rested his head back, not wanting to see you as you clearly avoided giving his dick any attention. 
“Okay, I got it. Green,” he groaned out, and you just chuckled, finally pressing the head of the vibrator against his cock. The low vibrations started at the base and his stomach tensed at the feeling, a tiny whine escaping him, hands having to resort to clutching your sheets again to stop himself from grabbing you and forcing you to switch it up a level.
The head of the vibrator bent slightly as you applied more pressure, thumb flicking it up two levels and enjoying the way he cursed, his head lifting back up to stare in awe as you slowly dragged it up an inch before coming back down, passing it right over his balls briefly. 
“Oh shit,” he keened, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, not being able to thrust up into it because you were still resting on his thighs.
“Aren’t you glad you told me yes?” you asked teasingly, sliding it up until it was nuzzled right against his frenulum before kicking it up another two levels. His reaction had you dripping against his thighs, arm muscles taut from how hard he’s grabbing the duvet, stomach caving in as he moaned out unabashedly. 
“Fuck,” he gasped, “yes, I am.” Taehyung had no idea something like this could feel so good, he was so accustomed to hearing women talking about vibrators and he thought it was a load of shit. Clearly he had been very, very wrong. 
Even though you’re focusing it on the underside of his tip, slowly raising the levels up until he’s squirming, he felt like his whole lower body was vibrating. The telltale signs of his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling only increasing when your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hold the vibrator against his swollen tip. The fluttering feeling of pressure building up becoming more consistent, his breath leaving him in huffs as he tried to force it away.
You can tell by the way his body started to tense up, your finger turning it up another level to push him further. “Are you gonna cum already? I thought you wanted to fuck me?”
He whined loudly, desperately trying to sink his hips into the bed to ease the pressure but your hands followed his movements, his head whipping to the side as he scrunched his face up. “Fuck, I do–I do want to fuck you, god–“ he gasped out when you started to circle the head of the toy around his tip, the rolling pleasure becoming too much. “Unghh, please let me f-fuck you.”
His stomach began to shudder more aggressively, hips wiggling around and you smirked down at him, his face finally turning back up to stare at the ceiling, his brows pulled together tightly with unshed tears prickling his waterline. “Hold it Taehyung.”
He nearly sobbed at your demand, taking in a deep breath as he shut his eyes once more, forcing himself to try to tune out his nearing release. His heart feels tight in his chest, blood thrumming so loud in his head, eyes burning as the tears finally spill over. But it’s too late, the tingling feeling had started to spread throughout his body and he knew he was a few seconds away from blowing his load.
Taehyung let out a pained moan. “Fuck I can’t, y-yellow, yellow!” You let go of his cock, the vibrator lowering in intensity before easing off and going back to trail on his stomach and thighs as his close release faded away, letting him whimper as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.”
After a moment you switched the toy off entirely and set it aside on the bed, soft hands running along his skin to help calm him down, reaching up to gently wipe away his fallen tears. “Don’t be sorry, you did good.”
He sighed in relief, glad that he hadn’t ruined it by not being able to hold off his orgasm, he tried the best he could but the only way he wanted to cum was after he sank into you.
You gave him another minute to come down, easing off of his thighs to tug your shirt off of your body, the material landing in a heap on the floor and that grabbed Taehyung's attention. He looked at your body with desire, wanting to reach out and grab you, kneading your flesh as he cupped your tits and ass, but he's done so well so far so he holds himself back. The only daring touch he allowed is his thumbs gently rubbing against your knees as they rest on either side of his thighs.
You let the touch slide as you bent forward and kissed him, reaching over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. Leaning back from him, you tear it open with your teeth and slowly ease it onto his throbbing cock, hearing him groan when your hands add a bit of pressure at his base once it's fully rolled on.
“You okay?” you ask softly. He looked dazed out, no longer tipsy from his earlier adventure but his mind was working on overdrive, the abundance of fantasies he’s had of you are coming to fruition. He was finally going to know what it felt like to actually fuck you, and he was scared his excitement would make him cum a minute in, especially after he had forced his last orgasm away.
“Yeah, just–“ he swallowed harshly, letting his head fall back into the plush pillows. “Give me a minute please.” You smirked at the slightly pained expression on his face, but you hummed anyways, letting his dick lay back above his stomach as you leaned forward and opted for kissing him softly, fingers slowly trailing through his hair to help calm him down.
Taehyung shivered as your nails gently scraped down until you reached his neck, his hips beginning to rut up against you, clearly being ready to continue.
“Please,” he starts again, groaning as you tugged his lower lip between your teeth, letting it snap back gently. “Let me fuck you. I’ve been good right?” He still felt his face flush at his own words but a strange sense of pleasure also coursed through him when you nodded in response.
Your hand reached down between your bodies, grabbing his cock to tease around your entrance. “Yes Tae, you’ve been very good.” He held his breath as you started to ease down onto him, the both of you groaning at the pleasant stretch of your walls, his jaw dropping while he kept his eyes glued at the sight of his thick cock parting your lips.
“Holy shit,” he gasped out when you fully sank onto him, giving him a moment as you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip at how full you felt.
Kim Taehyung’s dick lived up to its name, long and girthy with the prettiest veins running along the underside of it, the slightest curve of it allowing it to gently nudge along the sweet patch inside of you. It filled you up perfectly, leaving you stunned above him as you adjusted to his size. 
When his breathing evened out, you peeked a glance at him, his forehead slightly damp from the earlier teasing. He looked so utterly fucked out and desperate and it urged you on; you were determined to crack him, show him how great this could be, and so far he seemed more than willing to let go of control.
As you start a slow rhythm, you wished you could bind his wrists behind his back, strapped into a chair, wrapped up in the pretty red rope you used to use on Jungkook, or even drape your favorite blindfold over his eyes like you used to with Hwasa;  but you didn’t want to push him further, you were letting him dip his toe into this.
Taehyung was so used to being in control, so used to being the one in charge of giving for himself, and when he had heard the way you spoke to him: praising him for behaving, all giggly and soft after you had made his mind blank from an orgasm, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his normal.
His thumb was still grazing your knees, every time he flicked them upward on your skin he could feel your muscles tense as you lift yourself off of him and snap back down, the sound of your skin slapping together filling up the room. They mixed in with your soft moans, nearly concealing how affected you were by this, hiding the small cries of pleasure felt from the tip of his cock nudging the sweetest spots deep within you. 
Taehyung could feel his blood buzzing in his ear, the feeling of being buried inside of you going beyond what he ever thought, his heart continuing to pound when he felt you tighten around his length.
“Is this worth you leaving whoever you were with earlier tonight?”
Your words caught him off guard for a moment, having to clear the heady feeling in his brain, and he took a moment to wonder how you knew he was with someone, but then your fingers came to prod at the hickeys littering his neck.
Half moons marked his skin as your nails came down to his chest, lightly digging into his skin and he hissed, hips thrusting up slightly. “Shit, I–“ he whined when you began to grind against him, slow rocks of your hips letting him feel the glide of your walls against his cock. “Yes, so worth it.”
You let yourself lean more against his chest, tits pressed along his skin as you brought your face closer. “Do you think she would’ve been able to make you feel this good?”
He doesn’t even have to think about it, immediately shaking his head. “No—fuck, just you.”
You pressed a kiss directly underneath one of the hickeys, leaning back again and cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you resumed bouncing on top of him. Sinful slaps of your skin connecting fill up the room like it belonged there, arousal gushing out of you when he whimpers at the visual of you riding him. 
The whiny pleas he let out proved he’s edging close to his release again, making a heat pool in your gut, and he shocks you when he requests for you to place your hands around his throat. He had always been interested in choking, albeit he always imagined he’d be the one with his hands wrapped around someone but this felt right, your thumb and middle finger pressing into his carotid artery had all the stars aligning in his eyes.
Your eyes widened at his reaction, not expecting him to be bold enough to ask for this considering it took him this long to tell you he wanted to fuck you, but you’d take it. You’d take his half lidded gaze as you applied pressure on his neck, his stomach caving in slightly everytime you slid back down on his length, your walls squeezing him deliciously as he neared his end; you’d take all of it. .
He could feel his mind going hazy, drifting up as every nerve in him tingled, hyper fixated on the repeated raunchy, wet sound of you riding him. Taking note of his floaty appearance, you sped up your pace, tightening up around him as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “You feel so good Taehyung, cum for me.”
He shivered slightly at your words, your hands squeezing a little tighter against his neck, and suddenly he's cumming. His body was set alight as the feeling caught him by surprise, eyes bulging out and a choked gasp leaving his mouth when you released his throat.
He let out a loud moan of your name, rutting his hips up into you as his dick twitched and filled up the condom, spine sparking with pleasure as you continued to rut against him. “Oh fuck,” he cried out, his hand coming up to tangle into his hair while the small after shocks of his orgasm hit him.
When you reached over to grab the forgotten hitachi wand, his mind blanks, seeing you continuing to grind against his still hard dick as you pressed the head of the wand against your clit had him at a loss.
Fuck you’re hot.
When you smiled down at him, your mouth dropping open slightly when you found the sweet spot, he realized he uttered that out loud. Another groan of his spilled out again when he felt the vibrations against his own cock from how high you had the settings.
You give up on fucking him, letting his cock stay nuzzled deep inside of you as you pressed one hand against his ribs while you hunched over and moaned. The intensity of the vibrator had your whole body trembling, buzzing directly against your swollen clit with precision, making your velvety walls pulse around his sensitive cock. 
The feeling of your orgasm came on strongly, your hand pressing the toy harder against you, and Taehyung felt like he could cum again as you tightened your walls around him, the sensation making him softly rut up into you.
“Oh god, fuck Taehyung,” you gasped out, throwing your head back as your orgasm finally hit you. All Taehyung could do was stare at you in a daze as you came undone, small whimpers leaving your lips as your hips twitched, chasing the pleasure until you were sighing and shutting off the toy, body still trembling from the aftershocks. 
When you tossed it aside you stayed sat on him, breath heaving as you hunched over him slightly. His hands that were on your knees fully came up onto your thighs to gently massage them, wanting to comfort you, the mutual understanding that he was allowed to touch you after sex being passed between you. 
After a minute, you slowly eases yourself off of his soft length, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the bin beside the bed.
Taehyung was entirely spent. Tonight had felt like the longest night of his life, and his eyes were drifting shut when he felt you straddle him again, your arms resting on his chest as you stared up at his sleepy form.
His eye cracked open and he grinned at you when he saw the look on your face; it was the sweet smile you wore when you were up to no good. The fingers on your left hand gently spelled your name on his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, your chin rested on top of your arm and you laughed when you saw his eyebrow raise up in question.
“What?” he asked. You were clearly out of the mood that made you want to bind and tease Taehyung until he was crying, wanting to reassure him and make sure he was comfortable after doing things you knew he wasn’t used to with your soft touches.
You hummed softly as you stared into his eyes. “Kim Taehyung is into choking huh?”
His face flushes immediately as he replays his request in his mind, and you pat his chest to get him to stare at you, a small frown on your face at his clear embarrassment. “Hey, it wasn’t a tease. It’s hot.”
Taehyung raised both brows now, staring at you like you had said something absolutely foreign to him. Tonight was a night of firsts and realizations, who knew Taehyung loved the feeling of a vibrator on his cock, and who knew he had a kink for your hands around his throat. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” you mused, lifting up slightly to inch closer to his face. “Seeing you squirming while I choked you was the hottest thing.”
He could only stare at you, the gears in his head turning as he thought of what just happened. He never imagined he’d be into giving someone control like that. Taehyung knew it was minuscule, but this was all new to him and he loved it already, his brain wondering how much further you could take it.
“You know, I’m kinda into it.” He looked away from you as he said this, still not confident in admitting it and he knew it was silly, especially when he could see how much hearing these words lit your face up.
Your eyes shut when he admitted to this; it always felt like finding gold when you got a man to confess to enjoying this. So many men were always afraid to admit to liking how it felt when a girl took control over them, no matter how subtle, and Taehyung was someone you thought would be a little harder to break down.
“Are you?”
He hummed, his hands finally coming up higher to touch you and his warm grip caught you off guard. But he takes his time as he trails his fingers up and down your sides, gliding across your back, sliding them into your hair and tugging you closer until he’s kissing you, the first time he’s ever taken control of any situation.
He relished in the small gasp you let out as he licked the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping in and massaging against yours slowly for a brief moment until he’s pulling back. Taehyung realized that this is the longest conversation you two have had in person, and the first one where he didn’t feel like a babbling idiot.
“Is there more we can try next time?” he wondered softly, nudging your noses together and kissing you again briefly.
Your mind was already picturing how he’d look tied up, cock swollen and dripping with a cockring sat snuggly around his base, maybe a thick collar around his neck. You could ease him into trying out some of the floggers you have, or tempt him into wax play, maybe ice cubes if he was wary of the wax. So many ideas that had you squirming on top of him with anticipation, and when he saw that look on your face he found himself smiling with you.
“Oh, there's so much Taehyung. You just have to tell me what you’re comfortable with.” Your fingers are raking through his own hair now as he leaned into the touch. “Can you do that?”
When your fingers tugged the strands, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Pressing your lips against his again, he feels you smirk against his skin, the small sharpness of your teeth sinking into his lip making him groan. “Good boy.”
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mmmonie · 4 years
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I have obey me brain rot and I physically cannot take it anymore so here are some random HCS I fucking busted out about demons under the read more (and some angel stuff thrown in. For fun. Spice is the variety of life or whatever) I formatted this on mobile so forgive me for my crimes pls..... 😔
Also as an fyi I have never written anything in my life <3 (and also I’m dyslexic) so if something sounds stupid I’m sorry lol <3 also I’m sure u can tell but I never know where to put commas so if that bothers u........sorry again lol
*There are (at least) two demonic languages: one is a bit like Latin albeit way more fucked up. The second one is spoken only. A human can learn to understand both but the second one requires a lot of concentration to discern due to the subtlety in the growls, clicks and other noises demons are capable of making. It’s also very dependent on body language, especially in demonic form.
*It would be nearly impossible for a human to be fluent in the second one because of that. (unless you’re like. A really good mimic?)
* the second one is the oldest language. The new language and it’s written counterpart are derived from it with a little twist, so you’ll still hear some interesting noises thrown in there. It would take some dedication to learn, though the written part is fairly easy once you get the hang of it. It was made to be read quickly and efficiently. The speaking part however...................good luck.
* Demons and angels can instantly pick up human languages including reading and writing. Wouldn’t do you much good to be summoned in like. Germany and not know the language LOL
* Demons purr LOL you can’t click and growl and NOT purr. Like cats, it is both a happy thing and a self soothing thing.
* There is a slight difference between a happy purr and a self soothing purr, but the difference depends entirely on the demon.
* Demons (and angels) are nearly impossible to kill. It’s also very hard to damage them in any meaningful way. They also heal very quickly, so even if you did get a good hit on one, if they managed to get away chances are they’d heal in a matter of hours.
* Stronger demons like the brothers are even MORE impervious to damage. The amount of times Beel’s reached into the oven barehanded just to pop a piping hot cookie in his mouth is insane. He swears it’s the best way to eat them.
* Angels are very stiff but very physically powerful. They have a lot of control over their bodies and are trained from a young age to be able to wield that power responsibly.
* Demons on the other hand are incredibly flexible and bounce back easily. Though your average demon might not be the same physical strength as an angel, they have agility on their side. Angels are heavy hitters where demons rely on their ability to strike multiple times very quickly.
* This was a very weird transition for the brothers, though the amount of strength they had barely changed between realms. Fallen angels don’t change that much strength wise, but a little bit is burned up in the fall (to protect themselves.)
* Angels may be strong but demons also posses a massive amount of strength and have to learn to control it over time. This is known as a “juvenile phase” but it happens at different ages depending on how they were born. Fallen angels do not go through this as they have already learned to keep a grip on their power. Do I have an entire separate post ready about this bc I just couldn’t shut up? Maybe...
* There are four ways of being “born” a demon. Fallen angels, half demons, human borns and natural demons.
* Humans can choose to be turned into demons, but it is a very painful process and they won’t be able to gain any strength, what they get is what the get. They are referred to as “human born” and were considered the lowest of the humanoid demons until Diavolo came into power.
* Human born used to just be made whenever by whoever but that caused problems. Demons would make human borns and then just leave them to flounder about by themselves in an unknown territory. Diavolo’s father put an end to that during his reign, but “accidents” still happen. Now you have to do paperwork if you want to turn your human friend/lover into a demon lol.
* The ceremony for turning humans into demons is incredibly complex, which is why banning making human born unless given permission is less of a problem than you’d think.
* Half demons are just that, they’re only half demon. Most are half human but there are a few other kinds of magical creatures mixed in there. They aren’t as strong as a natural demon nor a fallen angel but they can gain power through their other ancestry. Many of them specialize in unique kinds of magic.
* Half human/demon children aren’t as rare as you’d think they are. This is due to the fact that demons have all sorts of ways to keep a demonic baby alive. Ranging from shapeshifting and (magically) taking the baby themselves once it’s grown enough to handle the transition to various forms of potions and spells to help a human along.
* Half demons and natural demons have the luxury of being born already (mostly) acclimated to the devildom, making some of the transitions that come with a demons lifespan easier on them than human born and fallen angels.
* Angels are taught to control/ignore their instincts where demons are taught to rely on/embrace theirs. Because demonic instincts often work against the things taught in the celestial realm fallen angels have a hard time adjusting to their new environment. Though, as their sins overtake them, their instincts become easier to fall back on.
* Demons have multiple forms, not just the two shown in game. All in all, the brothers have 5, each becoming less and less humanoid.
* Half/human born demons are more likely to have both a tail and wings in their first demonic form. Stronger demons like the brothers are merely showing off the strongest of the two, but everyone has both. (Bc I think they slap LOL *points* u get a tail and wings! *u get a tail and wings*)
* •a demons features can be influenced by what sin they are, but it’s not a hard or fast rule. Don’t be surprised if a demon who looks more akin to Mammon is actually a Sloth demon.***this does not apply to little Ds who’s look is entirely dependent on their sin. Little Ds are an entirely separate conversation 😈
* human borns/half demons can have two sins assigned to them, though this makes them less powerful in both. Usually there is a more prominent sin.
* Diavolo’s rule has helped quite a bit with bringing humans into a new better light, and many natural born demons who haven’t been able to interact with the human realm have become increasingly curious about humans and the way they work. Much of this is due to media that was brought from the human world to sedate Dia’s intense curiosity.
* In the eyes of many older demons, humans are merely playthings and it is expected that most demons will eventually mate with at least one other demon. A human and a demon dating is seen as just infatuation on the demons part, and it’s often thought that there are no real feelings behind a relationship like that. However there have been/are many successful and happy human/demon relationships.
* Demons don’t really have a concept of marriage. They live so long there really isn’t a point to tying yourself to one single person (or a few people) However, that’s not to say that there aren’t relationships like that. There are binding ceremonies for expressing love and devotion to other beings and it has its own unique culture.
* though the gates to the human realm are still technically closed and have been for a long time, demons can still be summoned by witches (sorcerers, wizards, warlocks, whatever you call yourself.) They can also be successfully summoned if you are not a magic user, however this is rare and often can go wrong, much like horror movies.
* Summoning very powerful demons like the brothers is incredibly hard even for an extremely experienced magic user, so often the demon you get claiming to be Satan really isn’t LOL. There are demons who are actually assigned to go to summonings in the place of the seven lords of hell, but many demons will just take on the role to fuck around with whomever summoned them. You think a prince of hell has time to just go possess some object or person for fun? (Ok...Mammon Satan and Belphie might.......if they’re bored enough LOL)
* Demons are actually relatively cuddly creatures. They might be a little rough with strangers but base instincts with family members will always be to coddle rather than fight. They’re more like humans in that right.
* Angels don’t do much casual touching, they’re very uptight. Beel and Belphie being as close as they are was a bit of an oddity in the celestial realm. That’s not to say angels don’t need causal touch lol just that they were trained to avoid that “temptation”.
* the brothers had a hard time starting out in the Devildom because of this. They still have a hard time with casual touches, which is why they seem so touched starved with the MC.
Things I might elaborate on later:
* There is a difference between demons, incubi and succubi but it’s not what you think it is.
* Demons, angels and humans all have very different takes on gender.
* The juvenile phase (DO not tempt me I wrote out like 1000 words about it bc I couldn’t shut the fuck up)
* Animals in the Devildom are fucked up. I WILL fucking talk about this bc it’s my passion.
* Pacts and how they work..........
* Maybe I’ll also elaborate on the hierarchy/power structure of demons sometimes 
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b0rista · 4 years
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— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.
WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.
"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."
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with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.
as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.
with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.
prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.
^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.
at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.
if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️
HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.
in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.
"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."
whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.
you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.
the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.
"connie, you're getting seXY-"
"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"
many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.
"marry me."
another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."
it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.
he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.
he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.
when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 
as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.
speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.
there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.
he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.
his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.
after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺
during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"
y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.
eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.
and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.
expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.
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Heart by Heart | Chapter II | Raul Mendes
                                          *secret agent AU*
Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.
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Hi, this is the second chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!
previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter
*Word Count: 5.2K+
*Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence/crimes, migraine due to work stress, Raul teasing the reader endlessly (for me, that’s the most important warning). Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 
*Posted: July 8th, 2021.
                                                    -*-
A week later things were back to normal. 
Sure, the night they came back, after they were checked for any injuries on the med department and were cleared, Raul dragged her back to his apartment claiming he was craving sushi and he was only ordering if she was with him. In reality, that was a way to keeping his head busy with something else so the events of that day would be coped nicely without so much suffering. And one way of doing it was keeping his girl, best friend and partner, at a close distance so he knew she’d be safe and well. 
He was extra sweet that night, making sure she had everything she needed, even agreed to put on face masks with her while watching a random movie. And she was really glad to have him near. The thought of him getting her, or worst... it just killed her a bit. But he was safe and he had his arms securely around her, and that was enough to put her on dreamland and having a great night of sleep.
Unfortunately that was not the case for Y/N today. 
Ever since Seth was back, he spent most of his time on the med bay to recover, he had to go through surgery and was finally recovering, but ever since he was back, every piece of information he had was being collected, and she was the one responsible to write it down. Most of the info he had was encoded and she was supposed to break it. Y/N’s been working nonstop for the past week, and when she had the opportunity to relax all by herself in her house, she felt restless. The main reason is that the person who had Seth was one of the most wanted man on the planet. Geonoff Reyes was capable of the vilest things without giving a second thought, and he’s been wanted for years now, and apparently Seth had the newest information of his whereabouts and new plans.
And knowing that was enough to put Y/N in restless nights of sleep, when she was even able to drift off. Most of her hours were invested on figuring out whatever she could, and several nights were only the continuation of her job during the day. And yeah, it was reckless and a bit stupid of her to sacrifice so much in a research, but Y/N knew this was a great opportunity and the biggest amount of clues they’ve ever received, she couldn’t let this all go. And she had to work fast, so Geonoff didn’t have enough time to notice some information missing or that someone outside of his limited inner circle so he wouldn’t chance anything. Or even move outside the country again, putting a massive political obstacle on their way. 
Y/N should’ve known better than to barely get any sleep in over seven days. She knew better than to barely eat or drink anything other than coffee. She knew and did it anyone. And that’s why she ended up where she was. Seven A.M. sharp on her little office on her company’s Head Quarters with a killing migraine that only got worse under the fluorescent lights. Y/N groaned softly as she basically collided on her office chair, cursing under her breath whoever thought bright white lights was a great idea. She was softly rubbing her temples when she heard a knock on her door, before someone came in without being invited, a delicious smell of coffee coming alongside the intruder. She didn’t need to look up to know Raul would be standing right in front of her desk. 
“What?” she grumbled, spinning in her chair to turn on her computer without even sparing a glance at him. 
Raul chuckled “good morning to you too, sunshine, I’m not even daring to ask how you are”
Y/N rolled her eyes and wincing at the pain the movement brought her “look, go pester someone else, I’m not in a good day”
“Yeah, that’s easy to see, gremlin, that’s why I brought you this” and a soft thud on her desk made her turn.
Raul was standing in front of her desk as she imagined, wearing his usual black outfit, a long sleeved tight turtleneck, accentuating all the muscles on his arms and back, tucked into a pair of dark grey trousers and Y/N had to hold back all her thoughts that were rather inappropriate to have on your best friend. And she wanted to be mad at how effortlessly beautiful he looked, just standing there, hands supporting his weight on the glass table as he leant forward casually to pick at her computer. He looked like a fucking runaway model at seven in the morning, his citric scent leaving her slightly intoxicated, but she knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just naturally hot. 
She than darted her eyes from his body quickly to not seem as if she was ogling him, which she totally was, only to be met with a steaming cup of black coffee. She rolled her eyes on the little attempts of black hearts he drew with a sharpie alongside a poorly written ‘secret admirer’ on the disposable cup. Y/N shook her head huffing a laugh as she took it.
“Aren’t you supposed to thank me?”
Y/N arched her brow at him “what for, exactly?”
“For being the best friend you’ll ever have?!” he stated as if it was obvious “come on, you look like you need it and I swear I didn’t spike it with anything”
“You’re saying you did out of your own free will? A benevolent act?” Y/N questioned playfully inspecting the cup.
Raul scoffed feigning hurt “Of course, I’m a good guy, practically a gentleman, you gremlin, how dare you think any different?” Behind all the teasing in his voice, she could see the worry evident in his golden eyes. Raul didn’t know all the details about what she was digging into since that were her boss’s order, but he knew enough to know she was probably overworking herself and getting a bit anxious. He knew her better than anyone and there were barely any secrets between them. 
“Fine” Y/N sighed taking a sip from the coffee, and it was precisely what she liked “thank you for being a decent human being once in your lifetime”
“You are very welcome, so any news?” he asked pointing to the screens of her computer. 
“Not really, I guess I was too tired to do much last night” she said opening all the images she had collected over the past week on her five computer screens “you know basically all the important stuff I gathered, I’m also monitoring the surveillance cameras on the places he might be, trying to get a glimpse of him, but till now nothing, only this car that’s been parked here for five days now”
“Weird”
Y/N giggled to herself before closing everything again “yeah, I know”
“So, I didn’t exactly came here just for the coffee” Raul said crossing his arms across his chest, standing on his full height, his biceps popping against the fabric of his shirt. 
“Of course not, I was just waiting for you order, cap”  she said as she reached into her purse for a painkiller.
His signature smirk appeared as he beamed down at her “Don’t tempt me, doll” 
“What is it then?” she asked and before Raul could reply, someone knocked on her door.
“Come in” he managed to say before her and soon enough Raul’s copy stuck his head inside. 
“Oh hi guys” Peter said before fully walking in and closing the door behind him “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, what do you need?” Y/N said turning to face him completely. 
Seeing Peter right beside Raul just made them look a lot more different. Sure, they were triplets, but they had completely opposite personalities. While Raul looked like a super model bad boy out of every romcom, Peter looked soft and gentle. He was just as handsome, his hair a bit more messy and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, adding to the soft features. He also wore light washed jeans and a very soft looking button up, a permanent blush on his cheeks. And despite the 6’3 and big muscles, he was almost like a walking teddy bear with a golden heart, specially if you got to know him. 
“I actually have some stuff for you two to test on my lab downstairs, and I thought since I was already here I could call you two to join me”
“Oh of course” Y/N said jumping to her feet and cursing under her breath, momentarily having forgotten the excruciating migraine she was still having “now right?”
“Yeah, but only if you can”
“Sure, come on, Raul” Y/N said grabbing her cup of coffee before walking to the door.
Raul chuckled lowly before following her and his brother to the elevator “whatever you say, boss”
“Don’t give me any ideas” she mumbled before pressing the button, but as soon as the doors opened, Y/N regretted getting out of her office.
Standing on the elevator was Daphne. Daphne was one breathtakingly gorgeous woman. With bright green eyes and golden soft model like waves, always dressed nicely and with paper white teeth, and to top that, she was a great agent. But she clearly had a crush on Raul and she’s been hitting on him for a while now, but he didn’t seem to care much, which made no sense at all. And for some reason she wasn’t as friendly towards Y/N, Daphne was never directly rude, but she always made sure to look her up and down and was never her friendly self. And Y/N wasn’t one to push anyone to like her, it just made situations like this a bit more awkward. 
“Oh hello” Daphne said with a warm smile.
“Morning” Raul responded as he climbed in the elevator. 
Y/N mumbled a quick “hi” before moving to the back of it with Peter. 
Daphne turned towards Raul and gently placed her hand on his bicep “I heard about the little incident on your latest mission, are you alright?”
“Oh yeah, not even a single scratch”
“That’s great, I mean, how did it happen again? Was it a failure on the planning or watching?” she asked and Y/N almost spat the coffee she was drinking, seeing Peter send a look her way.
“It was my fault actually, the team handed it pretty well” Raul replied unceremoniously.
“Oh, I see” she said pulling her hand from his arm and nervously placing a strand of loose hair behind her ear “hm, actually there was something I wanted to ask you”
God, how long could this elevator take to arrive on the last floor.
Raul only hummed in response, turning his face to the side to watch her so Daphne proceeded “Hm, there’s this new place that opened this weekend down the street and apparently the sandwiches there are amazing, me and a few other agents were planning to have lunch there today, and I was wondering if you’d like to join”
With that he truly seemed taken aback a bit “oh, I unfortunately can’t today, I’m sorry” with that he turned back to face Y/N “that’s what I wanted to tell you earlier, we have that lunch meeting today, Shawn’s in town and he wanted to invite you to lunch with us and his friends”
“Oh shit, I completely forgot” Y/N whined, her head pounding “I don’t think I can make it today, I’m so sorry”
Raul smiled softly at her “yeah, I figured, if you get any better let me know”
“Oh you’re sick?” Daphne asked turning to her as well.
Y/N shook her head, regretting it immediately “just a bit of a migraine”
“I hope you get better soon” Daphne offered a tight lip smile and Y/N just nodded in response.   
“We’re here” Peter said for the first time “Bye, Daphne” he said getting out of the elevator pulling Y/N with him. 
“Why are you running? Slow down, you’re gonna pull my arm off” Y/N hushed it as Peter kept on with the fast pace. 
“What was that?” he asked in a low tone.
Y/N then came in realization “right?! Why won’t he go out with her?”
“I think he might be just not interested at all, but I wasn’t talking about that, you know Raul can be pretty secretive about his feelings, right?” Peter asked with an archer brow, knowing look on his eyes. 
Y/N stepped into his lab alongside him “well yeah”
“I don’t know, I think I saw something there”
“Between me and Raul?!”
Peter leaned against his desk with his arms crossed “Well, more of him towards you, it’s actually something I’ve been noticing for a while”
“What are you even talking about? He’s always been like that with me” Y/N tried avoiding Peter’s gaze, afraid somehow that would give away the little spark of hope on her eyes. 
“No, I mean, yes, but I feel like that intensified a bit, just pay attention to it” he said and then looked behind her.
Y/N turned around only to be met with Raul standing at the door “sorry, got a little caught up”
“We noticed, cap, it’s okay, no important details were discussed in your absence” she said teasingly and he just rolled his eyes playfully at her. 
“Okay, I upgraded your coms a bit, so switching between channels will be easier” Peter started picking up the little earpieces up “And I also took notes about the appearance of my glasses yeah? Now would you mind approving the design of it, miss fashion icon”
Y/N laughed softly and went to check on the 3D design “thank you, I do take fashion very seriously, I only loose it to your brother”
Raul scoffed “Of course I would be involved in it somehow”
Peter laughed “come on, I need to show you this thing I want to put on your suit, Y/N can you please check the new computer I promised you?”
“Oh my, it’s ready?” She said turning to them, suddenly feeling a lot better.
“It’s on the corner right there, just feel free to explore it and adapt it to how you like it best, and then it’s yours” Peter said with a bright smile on his features as he dragged Raul away. 
Y/N sat down on the desk he pouted at, opening the super resistant protective case and being faced with a beautiful tiny computer she could use on future missions. She finished her coffee, feeling the medicine kick in as she dumped the empty cup on the trash, before sitting down in front of her new screen and starting to work on it. Y/N lost track of time as she explored the new configurations, installed the programs she used. She only noticed she’s been there for over two hours when she felt someone carefully placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked up to check the time, being met with Raul standing right beside her. 
“Oh, hi” she said feeling her face warming up as he smiled softly at her. 
“Don’t spend too much time with this, you’ll have more opportunities later, sweetheart, don’t force yourself too much” he squeezed her shoulder a bit and she sighed nodding “how are you feeling?”
She looked up at him, cracking her back on the process “Better, I think the coffee helps a bit and the painkiller did a great job”
“Good, I’m guessing you still won’t be able to make it to Shawn’s crowded and noisy lunch” Raul had a little amused look in his eyes and Y/N giggled at that, shaking her head.
“Definitely not, might as well skip lunch and nap on my lunch break”
Raul nodded “It’s tempting but you need food, now how about I take you to that salad shop you like, we buy ourselves a quick to go one, eat it at your office and nao for like, forty minutes maybe? How does that sound?”
Y/N contained the urge to lunch forward and wrap him in her arms “Pretty fucking great, but what about Shawn?”
“I’ll meet him later for dinner with Peter, so he wouldn’t mind”
“Oh”
“So, are you in, doll?”
Y/N shook her head “you had me in the forty minute nap, say no more”
Raul laughed “Of course I had, know you better than anyone”
“That is unfortunately true” she mumbled grabbing the computer and getting up.
Raul stared at her quizzically “Why is that unfortunate?”
“Cause that will only feed your ever growing ego”
“You wound me, sweetheart” he said with frightened hurt, a hand clutched over his heart. 
Y/N rolled her eyes at him as they both said their goodbyes to Peter, who only threw a knowing look in her direction and a little wink when Raul wasn’t looking. She only rolled her eyes, shoving her middle finger in the air behind Raul’s back to Peter, who only laughed in response. But Raul might have felt her arm hovering his back, cause he looked down at her, throwing his charming smile down at her and throwing his arm around her shoulders as the climbed in the elevator again. 
Oh great, now Y/N had one more thing to keep her awake all night, wondering if she was crazy and Raul could be somehow interested in her and if she should do something about it. But do what? Tell him she liked him? Kissing him? Confronting someone who already has a hard time talking feelings about how he felt about her?! Only terrible scenarios played in her head with every little thing she thought about. But before she could go on spiraling, Raul gently squeezed her shoulder making Y/N look up at him. 
“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asked smirking at her and she only huffed rolling her eyes, making Raul full on laugh. 
                                                  -*-
Later that morning, they ended up following Raul’s idea. Around noon he knocked on her office again, with his leather jacket and ready to go, Y/N then just grabbed her coat and purse, ready to follow him to the elevator again. They kept a light banter, talking about conspiracy theories and random gossip, and she felt really better but was too tired to socialize with a lot of people. So they walked down the street a couple of blocks to a little shop where they bought salad bowls and iced tea “to balance things out” according to Raul about how much coffee she’s had the past week. 
They ordered to go and walked back to the HQ that looked like a very fancy business building, but instead of going back to her office, they headed to Raul’s instead. There they sat down on his couch since it was bigger as they casually had lunch, and right after, he convinced Y/N to get comfortable on the couch as he relaxed right next to her. Y/N curled into a little ball on the further corner of the couch, but he was quick to tut his tongue at her. 
“Here, sweetheart, you can lay your head on my lap and stretch your legs on the couch, yeah? And you can grab that little fluffy blanket if you want” He was quick to offer and Y/N sighed.
“Are you sure?” she asked eyeing him suspiciously “I don’t want to bother you” he chuckled softly and nodded
“Of course, we still have 50 minutes of lunch break, nap a bit, baby, come here” Raul said in such a gentle tone, almost cooing at her and how could she possibly say no to that?
She removed her boots before laying her head on his lap and pulling her legs to stretch across the rest of the couch, while she got comfy, she felt the gentle weight of the thick fluffy blanket being laid on top of her. Y/N sighed in relief as she slowly closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax, and feeling the soft caress of Raul’s fingers gently combing through her hair was only making it easier to fall asleep. And so she did. 
She dreamed of something random, she was stuck in a boat and it didn’t really make much sense, but it was better than the sleepless nights or the scary things her mind came up with. So waking up was not the best sensation, but Raul managed to make the experience less unpleasant. He was very softly coaxing her to wake up, by gently shaking her shoulder and caressing her cheek, slowly calling her name. Y/N could get used to it. 
Raul truly didn’t want to do it, he, himself, didn’t want to get up. He ended up falling asleep a few minutes in, but the timer on his phone vibrating on his hand woke him when he promised he’d wake her up. He almost didn’t have the heart to do it. Y/N looked so peaceful, the frown that’s been on her brows for the whole week was finally gone, but he knew if he didn’t wake her, she’d spend her day blaming herself and wouldn’t be able to sleep properly at night. So he cleared his throat and started calling her gently not to startle her.
Y/N started coming slowly back to her senses, slowly sitting up from Raul’s lap, rubbing at her eyes and checking her phone quickly for important notifications. A low chuckle brought her attention away from her phone and to her best friend beside her, to which she just truly looked at, being able to notice the throw pillow creases on his cheek, the soft curls of his hair a bit messier than usual.
“Hi” he mumbled softly. 
Y/N smiled at him before mumbling a “hi” in response. 
“Sleep well?” Raul asked as he stretched his arms above his head and she nodded “yeah? I ended up joining you in your nap”
“Don’t blame you, this is a really nice couch”
“Right? Unfortunately this was the first time I took full advantage of it” he chuckled as he got up from the couch, moving to turn on his computer.
Y/N just chuckled before nearly folding his blanket back in its place “well thank you for everything, you truly are a great friend, but I should probably leave and stop bothering you”
“You never bother me, and I know, I’m the best friend anyone could ever wish for” he said sitting on his chair as she leaned down to put her shoes back on. 
She just rolled her eyes at him, grabbing her stuff before getting up “there you go, ruining a perfectly sweet moment”
Raul laughed “that’s my biggest ability, doll, thought you knew that already”
“Should’ve guessed it” Y/N said as she opened his door “see you later, thanks again”
Raul just winked at her “anytime” before she closed his door and moved to her office shaking her head, but unable to hold back the smile from blossoming on her lips. 
Maybe Peter was wrong and just messing things up, how could he not notice the way Raul affected her? But saw the way he was different with her? It made no sense. And there was no time to go into the rabbit hole, she had better things to do, like spend countless hours uselessly trying to crack a code. 
                                                  -*-
In the middle of Y/N’s afternoon shift, she was able to spot Geonoff himself on one of the surveillance cameras she’s been watching incessantly for the past weeks. She basically tripped on her on shoes as she scrambled up to her computer to register the appearance, quickly sending it to her boss. They finally were sure where he was and maybe that was enough to set up a plan or something to get him. 
Geonoff Reyes was one of the most wanted man right now by intelligences from multiple countries. The man himself had a long list of crimes, that if there was an opportunity would be enough to sentence him for thousands of years. Most of Geonoff’s crimes were related to the mafia, he was one of the biggest and most dangerous bosses there was. He started fairly young, around 15 years old, but that was the extent of information everyone had on his childhood. Some liked to guess it was what kind of household he was raised to blame the way he had become what he became. 
He’s been chased for years now, and that’s why Y/N was quick to let her boss, Mrs. Benson, know she found him, compiling all the information she was able to gather this past week in files. So she did what she could and it took her around an hour to have everything printed and organized in a folder, letting Janet she was coming and basically running to the elevator to get to her office. 
The heavy metal doors opened on the waiting room outside of  her office, being met with Luca, Janet’s personal assistant, who winked at her and pointed at the door. Y/N smiled at him and knocked on the dark wooden doors, opening it silently as she heard people talking inside. Her office was decorated very minimalistic and was usually a very pristine place, but today, there were papers everywhere as Janet, Helen (Janet’s right hand), Dimitri (head of security department) and Raul Mendes stood there apparently discussing the same case. 
“Thank God you’re here, darling, please come out this madness to an end” Janet said with a gentle smile as she pointed towards the mess in her table.
Helen chuckled as Dimitri was quick to push their papers to a corner on the table. 
“Thank you” Y/N mumbled as she placed her folder down.
Raul silently move to stand right next to her, a careful hand laying on the small of her back in a comforting touch as she looked up at Janet to check if she could start. With a nod from the boss, she started pulling all the evidence she could. All the pictures, the surveillance images, the documents Seth was able to bring back and information he was able to remember as well.
With everything laid out on the table and presented to all of them, Janet ended up telling what she’d been discussing with Helen for the past two days. They both figured the best thing to do at the moment, since they didn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest for this crime and maybe this was a great opportunity to catch another people involved, not only Geonoff. The plan was basically getting new identities and keep a close eye on all of his activities, track down his moves and if possible get even more evidence. 
Raul was called because he was the best for this kind of jobs and would be a great leader to the team, Y/N was offered to join the team as well, being his partner and leading the strategic part of the plan. They were also told to pick other agents that they knew would be great for this specific operation, Janet only asking to keep it at a maximum of 5 people including them, the less people knowing, the better.
Of course both agreed and were also instructed to inform Peter so he could separate the gadgets necessary, and obviously intensify their physical training. Despite this being mostly and observant kind of mission, Geonoff was unpredictable and highly dangerous, so being well prepared and extra careful wouldn’t be a bad idea. They were both dismissed for the day and the early shift next morning, so they could rest and plan it as best as they could.
So Y/N was quick to bid her goodbyes as she placed everything neatly back on the folder and moved out of the room. As soon as she pressed the button to call the elevator, she heard the office door opening and closing again, rushed steps moving closer to her. She didn’t even need to look to know Raul was the one approaching her since his scent clouded every room he ever stepped into, she only shook her head and looked up at her right as he stood right beside her. He smirked at her with a little wink. 
“My house or yours, doll?” he asked as they climbed into the elevator. 
“Tonight?” she eyed him suspiciously as she pressed the button to her floor to grab her stuff and he leaned in to press the one to Peter’s. Y/N glanced at him and noticed he had all of his personal belongings with him. 
“Of course, I’ll even order from that Thai place you like”
Y/N giggled shaking her head “of course you will, am I supposed to spend the night?”
“Oh yeah, definitely, I’ll invite Peter too” he said with a smile.
Y/N folded her arms across her chest “I thought we were supposed to rest?”
“Oh but we will, I’ll make sure you’ll fall sleep at reasonable hours, eat properly and all that stuff, of course we’re gonna take a look at work, but just a little” he said with a knowing look.
“Fine, daddy” she added with annoyance, rolling her eyes, Raul just laughed and shook his head.
“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart”
“What? Does it do something for you?” She asked looking up at him and he just shrugged as the doors opened at her floor.
“There’s only one way to find out, doll” he added with a smirk, a teasing tone evident on his voice as he leaned the weight of his body on the elevator doors to hold it for her, shoulders crossed over his broad chest, biceps flexing against the material of his shirt. 
Y/N rolled her eyes stepping out of the elevator, ignoring the heat creeping up her face and the stupid flutter on her lower stomach, turning to face him as she said “see you later, Mendes”
“See you, and oh, don’t forget your gym attire, we’re going running at 5:30 sharp tomorrow, bye bye now” he blew her a kiss as he stepped inside and the doors closed before she could add anything. 
He was definitely trying to kill her in all the ways possible, she just didn’t know which way would be the fatal blow. 
                                                    -*-
*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.
*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.
*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!
*Hope you guys enjoyed it!
*xoxo
-🌙
@mariamuses
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alreadyblondenow · 4 years
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Black on black | Lucas Wong
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▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers
Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression
A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally. 
Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers​
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Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?
Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.
The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.  
You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.
“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.
“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.
He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.
You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.
“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.
“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.
“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.
He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.
“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.
“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.
He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.
“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.
“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”
You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.
“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you’re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.
“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.
For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.
‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.
It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.
He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.
“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.
He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.
Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?
His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.
“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.
You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.
Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.
“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.
“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”
It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.
Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.  
Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.
“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.
Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.
It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.
He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.
He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.
He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.
“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.
“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.  
Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”
He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.
Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“
“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.
“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.
“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.
When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”
“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”
“I don’t love you”
“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.
He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.
After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.
Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.
He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.
That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.
But he wasn’t family.
“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.
“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”
He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?  
“You said you don’t love me”
“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”
“Why can't you leave me alone?”
He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.  
“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”
For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.
“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.
“I love you”
He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.
He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”
Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.
“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”  
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frogtanii · 4 years
Text
hq boys as the crimes they’d commit
warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦
an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)
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karasuno
sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)
sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.
nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.
tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍
hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿
kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.
tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).
yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.
nekoma
kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D
kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.
yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.
haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿
aoba johsai
oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.
iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.
matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.
kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴
shiratorizawa
ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.
tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.
goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺
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granddaughterogg · 3 years
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This is an OfficeAU related question... how would Death react to a woman who he thought was stunningly beautiful, but she didn’t even really notice him? Like she brushed past him in a hurry, looked up at him for a second and said, “Excuse me.” And just hurried on her way. Do his eyes follow her? Does he try to find out her name?
The chrome-plated elevator doors parted with a sigh. He stepped outside, his stride already long and his thoughts elsewhere - and bumped into this woman. Or rather she bumped into him. Ran headfirst into his chest, because that was as high as her head could reach. Said head was full of bouncy curls, dyed deep, vibrant teal. The shade of the sea waves. Does the company policy even allow for such a blatant display of personal style? Death mused briefly, only to realize that any policies they had have been run by him. So the answer was yes. Humanity has been through a lot lately. First the Apocalypse. Then that colossal mess, the sort of which is bound to happen when you bring a whole extinct race back to life. They deserved to be cut some slack.
So, she ran into him. Such a small and squishy creature. She enveloped him in this scent that all human women bore - very different from what he's been accustomed to, but pleasant nonetheless. Many of them loved to pour fragrant essences on their skin; after a shared elevator ride he often had to run towards the closest open window and stick his head outside. But this time the dreaded floral stink was just an undertone. As it should be.
The woman's cheek briefly pressed into his wide chest, wrapped in luxurious cotton. Then she pushed herself away with a stash of papers she's been carrying and looked upwards. But she didn't see him, not really. Teal curls framed her soft face. Her eyes were big and round and as welcoming as two spoonfuls of dark honey. That warmth, that kindness pierced him down to the very soul - or down to whatever works as the soul inside the Grim Reaper.
It wasn't directed at him though. She uttered a breathless, absentminded: "I'm so sorry!" and away she went.
Death stood there motionlessly. He pushed both hands into the pockets of his swanky dress pants and watched her leave. Enjoyed this pleasant view a smidgen more than he should be.
Her sensible office pumps went click-clack. Her steps were short but decisive. Definitely not the athletic kind; rather one soft and curvy. The restrained cut of her navy blue dress only emphasized the curves.
Death liked soft. He was made mostly of sharp angles himself.
I must've turned really old and nasty if she didn't even take a second glance, he thought, his lips setting in a wry smile. 
Maybe that's not it. Maybe she was busy. Some people in this building actually earn their keep, while I mope around between my huge office full of dark woodwork and one of those conference rooms akin to tombs.
...maybe I'm not her type. She probably prefers blondes.
She probably prefers men who don't look like they already died.
I'm never going to find out this way. I could follow her and ask for her name...
And scare the living soul out of her when the poor girl realizes the CEO himself is chatting her up? You don't do those things at work.
The power imbalance is just too big...or something.
Death sighed.
***
A few hours later he sat at one of those neverending conference tables and looked into his siblings' faces. They were all dying of boredom. No amount of coffee could fix that.
 "Next item on the agenda: estimated annual productivity growth...rate..." said Death, his voice dry like scree. He was not entirely sure what he's saying or why exactly. It's been a long day.
"Wait on, someone's gotta bring in my papers first", groaned Strife. He half sat, half lied in his chair with his head dramatically thrown back and long limbs splayed. He looked like a disamused octopus. All the same, Death did notice that his middle brother is holding his phone under the table and tapping vigorously.
"You forgot your documents again?..." War supported his wide face on his wide fist. He looked as if fighting a wide yawn. Not that Death could blame him.
"You're just like a child, I swear", snorted Fury. It was a weak snort though. No bite in it. She was as fed up as the rest of them.
"Well, yeah...but don't worry, I'll flail myself properly after hours."
Suddenly Death heard a measured rhythm of small, decisive steps coming down the corridor. He sat up even before the massive conference room door went ajar. Because he recognized that sound.
She went in; bouncy teal locks, fighting to break loose from the bun, high-cut navy blue dress and a smile.
 A smile?...
"I've brought your documentation, Mr Strife sir", she said. Her voice sounded like honey, too. Damn it! It was as if the murky conference room became a little brighter.
"Eeey, Deondre! You saved my life here, and my stupid ass. Thanks a bunch, and sorry! One of those days I'll forget my own head -"
"I'll FedEx it to you then", she quipped.
Was she all but leaning forward to him, her body language relaxed, eyes warm and trusting? And was his bastard of a brother grinning at her with one of those grins?
"It's not a big deal. I was passing by this floor anyway. Gentlemen - " she nodded at the rest of them politely and left.
"Deondre?" The word tore out of Death before he could think better.
Strife stopped rustling the damn papers and shot his brother a quizzical look.
"What about her?"
"She's your assistant?"
"Hell no. But she works in the room next to mine and we...well, we became friends."
And now you've got her phone number. And she does your errands. Death often felt like strangling the airhead with his own two hands. Now that urge started to rise again.
"I can imagine the depth of that friendship."
Strife's golden peepers glinted with mischief.
"Relax, ya scary uptight spoilsport of an older brother! I don't sample my coworkers...not within the office hours, that is."
Death inhaled audibly. He grabbed at his own stack of papers and bonked the table with it.
"Estimated annual productivity growth rate", he said, his voice like grit.
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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years
Text
cosmic destiny
request from nonnie!! “Hello! I love your writing, I was wondering i could request something for Fred. Maybe a soulmate AU like matching tattoos or you can see how in danger tour soulmate is with a meter or Hanahaki situation? I love your writing sooo much!”
pairing: fred x reader
word count: 4.5k OOPS
A/N: hi love! SUPER CUTE PROMPT, i adore soulmate aus. so i actually did a fred soulmate au with tattoos which you can find here so i figured i’d do something different for this prompt, hope you still enjoy :) also, wtf, i feel like my writing sucks here, soooo feedback, reblogs, comments, anything please? gah ty
tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 | message me to be added loves!
When Fred Weasley heard all of the girls talking animatedly and breathlessly at the welcome feast about the prospect of finding their soulmates this year, and taking turns eyeing him up and down as if they were certain he was theirs, he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his seat -- his brother, George, elbowed him gently in the ribs, laughing at his twin’s skittishness.
Fred just sighed. The entire Great Hall was erupting with whispers and wandering eyes and annoying giggles. Each and every fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year were hungrily searching for, and awaiting, their soulmate, for they would find them before the end of the school year. Or, at least, that’s what the Weasleys had told the twins.
He pretended not to care, he really did -- when his older brothers started chatting him and George up at the Burrow this past summer, and as Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione listened with amazement, Fred had sealed his lips without giving anyone a word. The others had just laughed, keen on taking advantage of this very quiet Fred.
Fred just stayed as quiet as he could. Because everyone knew how he felt.
The problem was, as much as he tried to hide his feelings about the whole prospect, Fred certainly cared. Actually, Fred seemed to care all too much.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find his soulmate -- he wanted that more than anything. But if he was being honest, he was terrified.
Terrified of finding the woman he’d spend his life with. Terrified if it turned out to be someone he didn’t expect. Terrified, he knew, if it ended up being someone other than you.
Fred had always been a confident bloke, there was no denying that, but when Mrs. Weasley had pulled him into a bone crushing hug on Platform Nine and Three Quarters before they’d departed for school and squealed, “Oh, Freddie! Do bring her home for Christmas, yes? I’ll have to knit her a sweater!” Fred suddenly felt very pressured to bring home a nice girl. Not that he could help it, really. It wasn’t exactly up to him as to when this year his soulmate would appear, or who his soulmate would be. But he could hope. Maybe he could even will it into existence, if he tried hard enough. He swallowed his feelings and boarded the Hogwarts Express, ignoring the fact that seventh years specifically were supposedly going to find their soulmates before the holidays.
He’d always fancied you, and he always thought he made it rather obvious, actually. His flirting was top tier, his compliments heartfelt and consistent -- blimey, you two had even danced the entire night away at the Yule Ball, flushed and giddy from the Butterbeer and dazzling Christmas decorations that illuminated the Great Hall. And yet, the two of you were still not together. Not technically, anyway.
Not for lack of trying on his part, though. How many times had it been that he’d done some over-the-top prank and landed himself in another detention, just to impress you? How many times had he asked you to take a stroll in Hogsmeade? Bloody hell, to have tea at Madam Puddifoot’s? More times than he could count, embarrassingly.
It’s not that you didn’t like him. He was your best mate. What wasn’t to like? That adorable, disheveled ginger hair of his, the constellation of freckles sprinkled across his nose, the very obvious way he could always make you laugh with the nonsense he’d get himself into, the way his face would split into a bright smile at the sight of you -- there really wasn’t anything to dislike, if you were being honest. On the flipside though, there was the whole possibility of ruining the friendship thing, and also the finding your true soulmate thing. There were too many contributing factors, and you didn’t want to lose your best friend. And besides, there was no way that Fred Weasley was your soulmate.
Little did you know, he had a plan to prove that you were.
-- -
“Oi,” Fred whisper-shouted in the dorms one evening. “George, hey! Wake up, mate!”
It was nearly three a.m., and both twins had to be up in just a few short hours for their first day of lessons. A muffled groan came from the bed across from Fred’s. “Fred, I swear to Merlin if you keep talking, I’m going to go and get Ginny and you’ll be on the receiving end of one of her Bat Bogey Hexes.”
“First of all,” Fred began, illuminating the room just a smidge with the light of his wand, “I can take my little sister. Secondly, I’ve got a plan.”
George opened one eye. “A plan? You’ve woken me up in the middle of the night to tell me you’ve got a plan?”
“Yeah,” Fred started, puffing out his chest and looking rather confident indeed. He wet his lips and continued, “A plan to convince Y/N that she’s my soulmate.”
George could not help the involuntary laugh that escaped him. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, mate, but I’m not sure that’s how it works -- see there’s this little thing called cosmic destiny. I’m afraid the universe has your soulmate already picked out for you, no matter how much you continue to embarrass yourself in front of our best mate.”
A thwap! noise echoed in their room when George was hit on the side of his head with a few pillows. He reckoned he had that coming.
“I don’t care about this.. cosmic destiny you speak of, Professor Trelawney,” Fred teased. “I know she’s the one. I’ve known it since we met her. And I’m going to convince her, and then the stars will align.. or whatever,” he said in his best Sybill imitation.
“Merlin, someone’s gone all soft and romantic.” George laughed. Another pillow flew his way but he caught it in midair and placed it behind him. George yawned dramatically and fell back into the massive amount of pillows he now had on his bed. “Whatever you say, Freddie. But please, can the plan wait until morning? Perhaps once I’ve had a few cups of coffee?”
Unfortunately, Fred thought to himself, now fully awake and raring to go, it would just have too.
-- -
When he spotted you rounding the bend in the corridors, no doubt heading to your double Arithmancy lesson (you were adorable, but why on bloody earth would anyone choose to take Arithmancy in their seventh year, let alone doubles?) Fred seized his opportunity and pushed passed his brothers and the sea of students congregating near the Transfiguration classroom. Didn’t these people have somewhere they needed to be?
He ran in the complete opposite direction, hellbent on getting to your classroom before you did. Out of breath after pushing past students and professors alike, he leant himself casually against the wall in the corridor, ran a hand through his messy hair, and took a few deep breaths to slow his breathing. Three, two, one. Like clockwork, you were. You appeared suddenly in the corridor, a gentle grin on your lips that only seemed to radiate extreme giddiness when it split your face into a very large smile.
You stopped in front of him and dropped your bag onto the floor before checking your watch. “Five minutes til the bell,” you said, raising your eyebrows and locking your eyes with his. “Impressive, Weasley.”
He shrugged. “What can I say?” he asked smoothly, wiggling his eyebrows at you and pulling you into a quick embrace. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“I’ll be better once this dreadful lesson is over.”
“Ah -- regretting the double Arithmancy, are we?”
“Never, ever let me make stupid decisions again. Promise?”
Fred laughed at this. You really didn’t know what you were asking, did you? He was the King of stupid decisions. You were adorable, nonetheless. “Fine, but you owe me,”
Your eyebrows threaded together and you held back a snort. “Oh Merlin -- let’s hear it, then.”
“You, me. The Three Broomsticks. This weekend.”
Even when you rolled your eyes back into your head, Fred couldn’t help notice the hint of pink that flooded your cheeks, and the gentle tugs at the edges of your mouth. You were always horrible at holding back a grin.
“One day,” you said breathily. “It took you one day into the new year to ask me out. George owes me three galleons,” you winked.
Fred brought a hand to his chest in a very dramatic fashion, but laughed anyway. It was the same every single year -- it took him less than a week into the new term before he was flirting obnoxiously and doing his very best to get you to go on a date with him. “You and my stupid brother placed bets on how long it would take me to ask you out?”
A smirk suddenly appeared on your face. “It was his idea; I just wanted to win some money.”
You were about to slip into the classroom when Fred positioned himself in front of you, his six foot frame swallowing you whole. You brought a gentle hand to his cheek and his breath hitched at the contact. How was it you were always able to get his heart thumping dramatically? “Freddie, love, we’ve been over this.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at you again. “Darling, you can’t possibly call me love and expect me to believe that you don’t want to pull me into a broom cupboard and snog me senseless.”
“I’ve so very much missed your confidence over the summer holidays.”
“Bet you’ve missed more than just my confidence.”
You both laughed a bit, and then you took a step back from him. The solemn look in his eyes was more than telling -- he wasn’t backing down without a fight, just like every other year. “Fred, we’re going to find our soulmates soon -- what is the point --”
“ -- the point is, Y/N, that you are my soulmate.”
You were a bit taken aback at this; you placed your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow at him. His self-assuredness was rather alluring, but you couldn’t just believe that. It’s not like either of you had a say in the matter, no matter what your hearts yearned for. You opened your mouth to speak, but silence hung in the air between you both. He took a step closer toward you, and you could easily smell his cologne, for he was now only centimeters away. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and his lips to your hair, “I will wear you down, Y/N.” It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the steady pounding of your heart. He scooted himself out of your way, squeezed your shoulder, and said before disappearing down the corridor, “and I will prove to you that we are meant to be together.”
-- -
Things this year were not turning out how Fred would’ve liked. There was some strange, irritating woman dressed in all pink who seemingly wanted to take over Hogwarts, and she kept shutting him and George down each and every time they wanted to have a bit of fun and showcase their products for respective students. Lessons were nearly kicking his arse, if he was being honest, because he could hardly focus on school work. All he could focus on was that awfully insistent Ravenclaw that had his eye on you.
Worried now that he was no closer to convincing you that you two were meant to be, he was becoming desperate. Ginny and Ron enjoyed this very much, because it wasn’t very often that Fred let others see his vulnerability.
The twins were on route to Potions for a miserable, gloomy Wednesday afternoon; the only thing that even slightly brightened Fred’s spirits was the prospect of seeing you just a few tables away. “George, how many different ways d’you reckon there are there to find your person?”
“How d’you mean, mate?”
“You remember what Charlie told us over the summer holidays,” Fred piped on. He slid into his seat and lowered his voice, so as not to piss off Snape in the corner of the room, who was watching the students enter the classroom. “People find their soulmates all sorts of ways, don’t they? Pretty sure Charlie mentioned someone he knew finding his through matching tattoos, or something -- what d’you think?”
“I.. haven’t really thought much on it,” George told his twin truthfully. “Not really sure, to be honest. Mum was so bloody excited she barely gave me any idea of what to look out for. But I reckon they’re all different, right? Can’t say I’ve ever seen a tattoo anywhere on myself -- unless it’s in a secretive sort of spot.” George winked. He wanted to make Fred laugh, but it was a lost cause now, as you’d just entered the room and sat yourself down across from them both.
It wasn’t unlike Fred to become both more cheeky, and an absolute pile of mush around you.
“Hi there, love,” Fred said casually, leaning against his books in front of him. He tapped his cauldron playfully. “Blow things up here often?”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” George stifled a laugh. “If you’re going to flirt, at least be good at it.”
The all too familiar dreadful monotone suddenly filled the room, and everyone went quiet. “Silence……..Mr. Weasley, or I’m afraid you’ll find yourself in yet another detention. Not that that’s particularly… unlike you, is it?”
A few Slytherins started to laugh at Snape’s passive aggressive comment, and George huffed in his seat and pulled his spellbook out of his bag. But Fred hardly moved; instead he stayed where he was, drumming his fingers against the desk, letting his eyes wash over you. “Now, if you’ll open up your spellbooks..”
When Snape’s attention was turned toward a few bored looking Ravenclaws, you scooted closer to the twins and whispered, “Easy there, Fred. Don’t want to go getting on Snape’s bad side so early in the term, yeah?”
As Fred watched you run your painted fingernails along the words in your spellbook, muttering incantations to yourself as if you were studying for another lesson in the middle of this one, he reckoned getting on Snape’s bad side for you would be absolutely worth it.
-- -
“That’s barbaric! Harry, we’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” Hermione insisted.
Everyone was sitting around in the Gryffindor common room, peering at Harry’s red, scabbed, and bloodied hand. Looked as though he’d just come from a detention with Umbridge.
“I can’t believe she can get away with this. Bloody Ministry will do anything!” Ron cried, inching his way closer to Harry on the couch to get a better look. “Fudge is in over his head.”
George scoffed. “Doesn’t help that our stupid prat of a brother is filling the Minister’s head with nothing but praise for his ideas,”
It was unfortunate to see the toll that Umbridge was taking out on everybody. Each and every person close to Harry wanted to report Umbridge’s so-called disciplinary actions, but Harry insisted not too. He didn’t want to bring any light to it; not that anything would help the situation. Dumbledore staying Headmaster was just about as likely as Draco Malfoy not being a foul git.
“Harry,” you said gently, placing a hand to his knee, “I’m so sorry. Let me fix it up for you, yeah?”
Harry nodded thankfully, and Fred watched as you carefully tended to Harry’s hand. Of course. You’d wanted to be a Healer ever since he met you -- and probably before that, too. He couldn’t help but grin foolishly at your compassionate touch, and Harry’s appreciative glance. Fred felt his heart soar so high, he would’ve married you right then and there.
Later on, once most everyone had gone to bed, Fred spotted you near the fire, sipping on a cup of tea with your nose in a book. “Hey,” he said, placing himself next to you. “That was really nice what you did for Harry, you know.”
“Oh, ‘twas nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done,” you waved him off. “Besides -- it’s good practice. Madam Pomfrey says I should try and do as much as I can, if it isn’t a dramatic injury, just to get my feet wet. You know?”
Fred nodded; there was something about your empathy toward others that sent him into a dizzying type of feeling. He adored how softhearted you were. How good-natured. You always had been, ever since he knew you; ever since that time you seemingly nursed him back to health after a nasty bludger hit his shoulder during a Quidditch match during your fifth year.
“How’d this happen, Freddie? You’re normally so on top of Quidditch.”
“Was distracted.”
“By what?”
“By you, darling.”
He remembered your small laugh and eye roll as you’d gone and grabbed him a cup of tea; you’d even helped him carry his spellbooks to class everyday.
“D’you reckon this is something… a girlfriend does?”
“Fred, I have absolutely no problem hexing you, even with your broken shoulder.”
You two were sitting so close now. He was peering at you with what could only be described as “googly eyes”, and he could swear that the rise and fall of your chest was a little bit heavier than normal, as was the tension hanging in the air between you both. Maybe, he thought, that repeatedly asking you out wasn’t the way to go. Maybe he just needed to really go for it --
Just then, Ginny hopped through the portrait hole, looking positively dreadful. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and she kept scratching at her hand. “Gin?” Fred asked, his older brother demeanor immediately kicking into gear. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Ginny said brightly. If it hadn’t been for her disgruntled look, you both never would’ve known she was upset. “Just got caught up in the library working on an essay. See you for breakfast,”
But something felt strange to you. As you watched Ginny ascend the stairs to the girls dormitory, you noticed her hand was red. It looked as though she’d been scratching at it for hours. She noticed your lingering gaze, and quickly slid her hand into her pocket. Had she been in detention with Umbridge, too?
To Fred, though, this seemed to go unnoticed. He was already back to inching his way closer to you, a copy of the latest Daily Prophet clutched tightly in between his fingers.
-- -
“I’ve got it,”
Fred was sitting next to George, Ron, and Harry in the Great Hall during the feast. You, Hermione, Ginny, and a few other Gryffindors were down the other end of the table, no doubt discussing the prospect of soulmates (a few of the Gryffindor Quidditch ladies had found theirs). Fred felt his insides constrict. He just had to go for it already, didn’t he?
He’d missed the chance to kiss you that night in the common room, the night Ginny had come in looking slightly off. And he certainly didn’t want to kiss you in front of all of these people, especially if there was rejection involved. Fred had always been confident, and he knew, deep down, that you felt the same way he did. But there was always that tiny twinge of self-doubt..
So instead, when he spotted Umbridge acting like a right git to some poor little Hufflepuff who was eating at the Ravenclaw table, he knew he had to spring into action. Especially because this sweet Hufflepuff was now awaiting a very disturbing detention.
“Got what?” George asked, mouthful of cauldron cake. Very stealthily, Fred used his wand to shrink a canary cream and slowly send it over onto Umbridge’s plate. Her cronies were nowhere in sight, and everyone in the Great Hall seemed to be distracted; he honestly wasn’t surprised that it went unnoticed. It grew back to its regular size on her plate, and Fred took a steady deep breath, knowing that in just a few moments, your beautiful sounding laugh would echo across the Great Hall.
“Merlin,” George began to curse under his breath. “Mate, those are prototypes! If she finds out that was us -- “
“Relax, Georgie, would you? It’s like you doubt my expertise,” Fred rolled his eyes, biting his lip in anticipation as Umbridge relaxed herself back into her seat, an air of arrogance surrounding her. She took a slight sip of her tea, and bit into what looked to her like a regular custard cream.
A loud shout engulfed the room, followed by the unmistakable laughs of students from every single house. Umbridge had transformed into a very large canary, causing Professors to jump up, appalled, students to stand on the tables in applause, and you to widen your bright eyes in admiration.
Fred savoured those five seconds in which Umbridge was not dressed in her normal obnoxious colored pink outfits, but instead was sporting very bright yellow feathers and an orange beak. But almost as instantly as it had happened, she returned to her normal self -- her hair askew and in every which direction, her clothes an absolute mess. “Who is behind this?!” she shrieked.
George stealthily high fived his twin underneath the table. Fred, actually seemingly impressed with himself that he was able to pull this off, got up from the table and maneuvered his way through the sea of students to get to you. He sat himself down next to you, his legs facing out toward the middle of the Great Hall, his arms leaning back onto the table. “So?”
“Quite the diversion you’ve caused there,” you replied cheekily, stirring your tea with your spoon and peering into his eyes with nothing but respect in yours. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that my favorite bird is a canary, would it?”
Fred scoffed. “Love, you act as if I do these things just to impress you, you know?” He elbowed you playfully and then his lips formed a very serious, thin line. “But yes, it has everything to do with the fact that your favorite bird is a canary. And I absolutely do all of these things just to impress you.”
You shook your head and leaned in closer. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
In his attempt to get you to profess your love for him, and the fact that he couldn’t hear anything else but the blood pounding in his own ears due to your compliment, he’d missed the fact that Filch had been watching from the sidelines, and had told Umbridge exactly who was to blame for the canary cream incident. She had George by the ear in one hand, and pulled Fred to his feet with the other. “Detention, the both of you!”
“Fred,” George grunted through gritted teeth, “if this detention alone doesn’t kill us, consider yourself dead, mate! I’m going to kill you!”
You pressed your lips together and attempted to stifle a laugh as Umbridge pulled the two of them out of the Great Hall rather dramatically. The cheers from the students (and some Professors, actually) and the soft, sympathetic glances from you were everything that Fred needed to keep him afloat as he wandered into this detention which held nothing but dread. “Reckon it was worth it, Georgie.”
-- -
Fred Weasley normally didn’t regret things. But this, he did. His bloodied hand was looking worse as time went on, and the scowl from his twin wasn’t helping this detention to move along any quicker. He wrote again, on his parchment, with Umbridge’s stupid special quill, I must not be a burden.
Pft, burden. The woman was a bigger burden than he’d ever be. Finally, the clock struck eight, and he and George were released back into the corridors, both of them rubbing feverishly at their swollen, scarlet-colored hands.
“What d’you say we try and sell more of our products tonight?” Fred asked his twin, trying to lighten the tension in the air.
“Yeah,” George replied, running his fingers over the scabs that were now scarring. “Maybe after I kill you.”
Fred rolled his eyes; he wasn’t going to hear the end of this one.. not for a long, long time. George popped through the portrait hole, and just as Fred was about to enter, he heard his name echo across the moving staircases.
“Young girl heading your way!” said one of the talking portraits cheerily. Fred’s eyebrows threaded together until he spun around, only to be face to face with you.
“Are you alright?” you asked before examining his hand. “That woman is vile, I tell you. Pure vile.”
Fred laughed; the sight of you alone seemed to make him feel that much better. But then he noticed your own hand -- raw and red, as if you’d been picking at it for hours. “Don’t worry about me, what happened to you?”
Fred couldn’t help but notice the way your cheeks went very, very pink. You flushed easily with embarrassment, and immediately shoved your hands into the robes of your pocket. “Oh, erm -- funny story, actually -- “
And then something hit Fred straight in his gut. The words that Charlie had spoken when he’d been telling his siblings about soulmates, and all the ways they could find one another -- when you write on your skin, it shows up on your soulmate’s skin.
Yikes; that could’ve been wonderfully romantic; and yet, here you both were, remnants of Umbridge’s right awful detention plastered on both of your hands -- what a bloody awful way to find out who your soulmate is! However, the feeling of adrenaline coursing itself through his veins at the sight of you, unraveling his thoughts, only seemed to intensify his feelings.
And suddenly, Fred forgot all about the pain in his hand; he forgot about all of those times he’d put himself out there and had been rejected by you for fear of ruining the friendship. He couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t so head over heels for you. “Well would you look at that?” he asked, peering down at the very faint words of I must not be a burden on your own hand. “I reckon I’ve found my soulmate. Cosmic destiny, and all that.”
You huffed a bit, but sized him up still. “You’re never going to let me live this one down, are you?”
“Not quite, love. Not disappointed, are you?”
“Disappointed? Never.” You replied dreamily. After a haughty laugh, you leaned in closer, softly pressing your lips to his ear. “Guess you were right, Weasley. You did wear me down.”
His lips met yours in a fiery explosion, and you suddenly both realized how hungry you were for one another. But just as you were both going to hop back through the portrait hole and run up to your dormitory, Fred pulled away and groaned.
“What is it? Not quite living up to your expectations?” you teased.
“Oh no, believe me, it’s better than,” he winked. “I’ve just realized something, though.”
“What?”
He groaned again. “My mum’s going to knit you a Weasley sweater.”
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Savior
AO3 Link
Pairing: Commander Thorn x Fem OC (Mayakel Renspou)
Summary: Maya's first night on the job as a cleaner in the Senate building resulted in her being on the receiving end of a Senator's wrath. Thankfully a kind Commander on patrol arrives to defuse the situation.
Warnings: 12+, none really, bit of aggressive language at one point.
Word Count: 1.6k
Author’s Notes: This is the start of a little short series involving my OC Maya and her interactions with the Corrie Guard over the years. As always, feedback is really appreciated, along with reblogs! Thanks so much for taking the time to read.
The air in the grand senate corridors was cool this evening. A regal smell lingering from those who’d graced said hallways earlier that day. The only light source being the flares of bright colours that shone from the city beyond the window, dancing an array of patterns onto the golden decor.
Smooth jazz flowed through Maya’s headphones, keeping her in her own world and breaking the otherwise eery silence of the political capital. Her feet shuffled slightly to the beat as she continued mopping, drawing patterns with the wash solvent as she went.
It was her first night on the job as a junior cleaner for the Senate’s contracted company. She still hadn’t quite got over the shock of finally managing to get herself a good, honest job. This was it, the steppingstone that would help her haul her way out slowly up from the lower levels of Coruscant where she currently resided. It’d taken a lot of dodgy jobs and keeping her head down while continuing to study for qualification after qualification, hoping that one day she’d find that golden opportunity. The one which would lift her to the upper levels where the air was fresher and the people nicer. Well, that’s what she’d heard anyway. Now finally, she was on the way up, the hard work paying off. The job paid well, it was an honest day’s work and, according to her Pantoran colleague, apparently the Senate building had some of the juiciest gossip around. It seemed the Senators forgot that other beings existed in these hallways, leaving plenty of criminalising evidence just hanging in the stuffy air.
Maya chuckled to herself at the thought, still not quite believing it. These Senators were fancy folk who were taught word play and etiquette from birth, surely they had a bit more about themselves to be able to keep their private lives private.
She was pulled from her thoughts once realising that she’d finished her mopping in the corridor. Taking a moment to admire her handiwork with a small smile, she grabbed her bucket and made her way back to the supply cupboard to get the wax needed to make the floor sparkle.
The dirty water in the wash bucket swished and splashed as she lugged it back to her station, still singing away in her head to the music that played from the small datapad, tucked into the leg of her grey, utility trousers.
Still in her own world, she wrenched the door of the cupboard open. The view she was met with however caused her to drop the dirty bucket in shock, spilling its contents all over the floor she’d just spent the last hour cleaning.
Maya’s mind wasn’t focused on the mess though and instead she locked gazes with Senator Liss and one of the core world senatorial aides, who held each other in a rather compromising position, both in various stages of undress. Her brain had shut down from the sheer shock and awkwardness of the situation, leaving her mouth hung open with no words coming out.
The Senator apparently wasn’t a fan of her gawking. He made that abundantly clear once he clocked the cleaning uniform and proceeded to start screaming obscenities at her for invading his privacy. I mean you were in MY cleaning closet, pal.
The onslaught was ruthless as the large man emerged from the small space, backing Maya up until she was stuck between the man’s awful words, his even worse breath, and the ornate corridor wall. “Who do you think you are, you sick, disgusting, lower-level scum.”
“I’m so, so sorry sir, I had no idea. Please forgive me.” She replied, throwing all her effort into backing down and taking the verbal abuse from the renowned Senator.
“I swear they hire dumber staff each and every time. What of it now filth, you going to run to the holonews?” He bellowed, shattering the silence that had descended on the Senate building that evening.
“Sir, please. I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again. I saw nothing I swear.” She pleaded, Kriff she really couldn’t lose this job.
“When I’m through with you there won’t be a planet in the entire galaxy that will hire you, you stupid waste of-”
“That’s enough, Senator.” A modulated voice cut through the tension, pulling the Senator’s wrath away from Maya for a few moments. The man whirled around to stare down the Clone Trooper, who was ironically far taller than him, forcing the Senator to drag his eyes upwards until they were level with the soldier’s dark visor.
The Trooper’s armour was different from the others that usually patrolled the building, he wore white armour with red accents on the upper chest and shins. His helmet was red in the face, adorned with a grey visor. Above the visor two wings were visible either side, their red colour making the images pop against the white plastoid. It was all finished off with a grey Kama which fell to his knees in length, the red piping around the edges pulling the whole ensemble together. He looked like authority personified. Like he could command the attention of any room, as he was currently doing.
“And what of it Clone? Move on, this doesn’t concern you.” He spat out the name like it was bitter in his mouth before turning back to face Maya. However, the Clone Trooper made no effort to leave.
“It’s Commander, sir.” The red and white soldier stated boldly, making her eyes widen at his confidence as he closed in on the Senator. “And my duty is to protect all occupants of the Senate building, including our cleaning staff, and I don’t think being screamed at by a Senator for doing her job was in her contract, do you?” He was standing before the Senator now, his armour-clad form towering over the small man.
“What’s your number Clone, and who is your superior officer?”
“It’s CC-5870 and that would be Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Senator.” the trooper deadpanned back, nearly making her chuckle. Eventually the Senator backed down, knowing that going to the Chancellor about one Clone was a waste of time.
Grumbling, the large man grabbed his remaining clothes from the floor of the closet and dragged the young senatorial aide behind him, trudging away in embarrassment. Just before the pair departed, the Senator span back round on them both “A word about this to anyone and I’ll end the both of you.” While the power of this Senator was quite strong, neither Maya nor the Commander could quite take his threat seriously as he stood there in his underwear, having lost this battle.
“Of course, Senator. Have a nice evening.” The trooper replied, a clear smirk in his voice, making the man scoff before finally leaving the pair in peace. Maya took a deep breath and wiped away the spittle that had landed on her face from the Senator’s outburst. The Commander looked over to her, his helmet hiding whatever expression his face held. “Are you okay? I know the Liss can be a bit rough.” His voice had softened tremendously. The authoritative tone replaced with a friendly gentleness.
“Uh, thank you, Commander sir. I’m fine.” She replied with a slight smile “I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t know they were in there. I would never want to cause any trouble I-” she started blabbing, panic settling over her mind as the prospect that she could very much loose this job became real. She didn’t know much about armies or their hierarchy, but she knew Commander was a high position and she wanted to make sure he knew it was an accident.
“Hey, hey it’s okay. He’s all bark and no bite, I guarantee he would’ve forgotten your face by the time he’s finished his little affair.” The nice Commander reassured, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you, Commander. I hope you’re right.”
“You can call me Thorn.” He replied.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Thorn. Given the circumstances.” Maya’s small attempt at humour made him chuckle and the sound brought another smile to her lips. Considering the short amount of time she’d spent with this trooper, he seemed to be an expert and making her lips turn upwards.
“You too, Mayakel” She was about to question how he knew her name until she’d clocked the massive name tag attached to her bland, grey uniform.
“Ah, my friends call me Maya.”
“Oh, are we friends now?” Thorn teased. Maya’s eyes widened once again as she started stuttering before the Commander chuckled and assured her, he was only messing with her. “I’d like to be friends.” He left the statement out there, her cheeks beginning to ache as she smiled yet again at the soldier.
“Well, I best get back to work and clean up the mess I made.” She gestured to the dirty pool of water that sat on top of the marble flooring. “Quite the first day on the job.”
“You’re doing better than most.” He said, his tone light. “Well, I hope you don’t get fired.” He raised his hands and actually proceeded to shoot finger guns at her. Finger guns. And this guy was a Commander?
“Gee, thanks.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone as she chuckled at his childish antics.
“See you around.”
Maya felt her cheeks burn as she smiled, having turned her back to the kind Commander who continued his patrol. Despite the evening’s events, should she return back to work the next day, Maya felt confident that she’d at least have one ally in the Senate Building from now on.
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Face Value (S2, E7)
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My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.
SPOILERS AHEAD:
0:05 - Hold your horses. Malcolm taught at Quantico?!? I mean, I realize that he probably just did the occasional guest lecture (like most profilers?) but I’m still stupidly proud of him. <3 
0:50 - ngl Malcolm’s a good lecturer. Take it from a university student.
1:13 - “It’s okay. We don’t know what you did and it’s not that mu-....BREATHE” Holy shit. I’m torn between ranting about what a great actor Tom Payne is and losing my mind because this scene is heartbreaking. Look at Malcolm. I swear he’s reminding himself to breathe - not Ainsley. He’s completely panicking but he’s trying so hard to be strong for Ainsley. This boy is an absolute treasure. Brother of the CENTURY. 
1:41 - “You’re right Ainsley. I screwed up.” NO NO NO NO NO. Can you hear the sound of my heart shattering?!? This scene is so much more devastating the second time. When you know Ainsley is putting ON A SHOW HERE. Look at Malcolm’s face. He’s devastated. He blames himself for AINSLEY’S actions. He’s starting to genuinely believe that he’s no better than Martin Whitly. Malcolm’s depression/anxiety is through the roof in this episode. I honestly won’t be shocked if Malcolm has a complete mental breakdown in the next few episodes. Hell, I don’t think I’d be surprised if he tries to OD on his meds. This boy is in crisis and I’m terrified for him. 
1:44 - “I think I did too.”.....this line is interesting. Is this part of Ainsley’s act or is she showing some regret for putting Malcolm through this much emotional torment? She can clearly see that this whole situation is literally destroying her brother’s already fragile peace of mind. 
1:55 - “Today could be the day!”.....the day that everyone finds out about Endicott and Ainsley.....seriously, Malcolm’s daily affirmations this season have done nothing but feed his anxiety. 
2:04 - OF COURSE. A call from Martin. Malcolm is going to have a mental breakdown. It’s just everything. All at once. I’m getting secondhand anxiety FOR him. 
2:35 - hahaha Martin is a crazy, evil, pain in the ass but damn is he entertaining. 
2:55 - 1) Ainsley looks adorable in Malcolm’s hoodie. 2) Ainsley straight up leaves his loft later in this episode. Did she hid a change of clothes in the loft before Malcolm got home last night? Or does she actually leave her big brother’s apartment in his clothes? 
3:05 - “Getting hit by a train might be better.” Yep. Malcolm is entering a dangerous territory. I know depression is different for everyone but for me, when I start joking - out loud - to people I love about death in passing....things are bad. Like I’m getting suicidal bad. I know Malcolm has a morbid job and he talks about death all the time but this feels like Malcolm is starting to consider suicide as an option. 
3:34 - I can see Ainsley’s “You were trying to control me” perspective. BUT honestly? Take a step back and listen to the desperation and fear in Malcolm’s voice. Anyone with half a brain cell can HEAR how scared Malcolm is and how deeply he loves his sister. Ainsley has known Malcolm her entire life. If she was functioning on all cylinders - she would know that Malcolm is just being a protective big brother. He’s not trying to control her - just help her. But this has been a theme for Ainsley since season 1 when she brought up visiting Martin during family dinner. She seems to believe that Jessica and Malcolm think that she’s a “fragile flower” and that she can’t take care of herself. I understand how that could be frustrating but I also find it concerning that Ainsley doesn’t seem to understand that they aren’t treating her that way because they think she’s weak or stupid but rather out of love. Ainsley acts like a petulant child about this sort of thing (anger, whining, eye-rolling). Ainsley acts very entitled a lot, in the sense that if something doesn’t go her way she just throws a hissy fit (think reporting and/or any Whitly family squabble). Ainsley is messed up. Unlike Malcolm, she doesn’t seem to have any self-awareness when it comes to her behavioural eccentricities. Malcolm actively tries to improve his mental state. Ainsley just throws a hissy fit when the world doesn’t bend to her will.....and this stream of consciousness Ainsley rant just became wayyyyy longer than I had anticipated (sorry). 
3:41 - “Promise me.” See that look? Ainsley is pissed at Malcolm. This girl’s anger is concerning me.......what if (crazy thought) the season finale is Martin escaping Claremont to stop Ainsley from killing Malcolm? 
3:43 - I wish I could be happier about this hug. Malcolm is finally getting a hug but.....he instigated it and he’s not the one being comforted sooooooooo I’m still unsatisfied. 
3:49 - “Hey, you look...terrible.” SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS DANI!! God. I love how concerned she is about Malcolm. IDC how you feel about Brightwell. If you don’t think they’re good friends - you’re a moron. 
4:05 - This is the moment when I went....oooohhhh yeah. LDP directed this episode. That’s probably why he’s not in this scene. 
4:10 - JT is a GOOD husband. Give him a medal. Seriously - last season he was going to watch the Taylor wedding live with Tally (who was going to wear a hat <3 ), this season Mr. Masculine casually throws out stats about the Housewives. hahaha I don’t even care if JT genuinely enjoys the Housewives or not. I’m just so utterly delighted at the idea of him watching it with his wife and having a good time with her. <3 JT is the definition of a good husband and I’m HERE FOR IT. 
4:34 - .......seriously? I thought Edrisa had realized that this crush is unrequited last season? I love Edrisa but her obsession with Malcolm is getting a little creepy. Like “13 year old in love with the 40 year old math teacher” creepy. It’s sort of cute but also like - gurl. No.
4:38 - Ok. Dani’s reaction to Edrisa hitting on Malcolm saves the scene for me. Lol.
4:51 - Ugh. That is a really creepy corpse.
4:56 - Look. We’ve all obsessed about it already but I have to bring it up: MALCOLM STILL HAS THE BRUISE FROM THE ELEVATOR. SOMEONE GIVE THE MAKEUP DEPARTMENT A MEDAL. THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR REMEMBERING MALCOLM’S PHYSICAL TRAUMA.
5:21- ......ok maybe I’m projecting my cynicism here but anyone who has framed newspaper clippings about themselves in their office is seriously egocentric. Maybe it’s just me - but that’s a massive turn off and takes someone out of the running for “angel” status.
6:10 - I’m sorry for every time I thought Jessica was a crazy rich lady during season 1. Birdie is so so so much crazier.
6:36 - “Only the men you date.” Bitch. OMG. Who says something that backhanded and cruel to their sibling?!?!? ......oh wait. I remember how this episode ends :|
7:15 - THANK YOU. I’ve been wondering about the status of Martin’s medical certification since I watched the pilot. SO happy to find out that he couldn’t weasel his way into keeping it.
7:37 - Like most of you, I’ve been creeped out by this whole Martin/Capshaw interaction since it was released as a promo clip. Seriously - it’s creepy. There’s an upsetting amount of subtle flirting here. I’m not sure what it is about Capshaw but her whole energy is just really unnerving to me. I immediately hated her in the promo. Istg Capshaw is an undercover serial killer or something. AND IF SHE BECOMES A LOVE INTEREST FOR MARTIN I WILL LOSE MY SHIT.
8:06 - Oh yeah. She’s either romantically interested in Martin or she’s a psychopath on the DL and is playing him.
8:12 - YAY!!! The Yankee mug returns!!! <3
8:34 - “Sometimes the most monstrous people are the ones hiding in plain sight.” Ouch. I know the writers like to project Malcolm’s emotional turmoil on the case of the week but hearing those words come out of Gil’s mouth?!? Ouch. That hurt Malcolm. Bad. It wasn’t even directed at Malcolm but damn. This is not helping his mental health. At all.
8:41 - Gil. Is. Concerned. <3 :) .....pretty sure Gil also suspects about Endicott and Ainsley by now too. .....hmmmmm maybe that comment about monsters was Gil’s way of trying to get Malcolm to confess (or to gauge Malcolm’s reaction)?  
9:15 - I feel so bad for Malcolm here. He’s literally juggling everyone’s problems. Ainsley’s murder situation. Jessica’s personal drama. But is he dealing with his emotional problems? No. He’s too busy being a good son/brother. SOMEONE PAY ATTENTION TO MALCOLM. HE NEEDS A HUG.
9:35 - Deer. In. Headlights. Well....at least Dani knows Malcolm’s about to have a mental breakdown. This boy just got more information to help him crack a murder case and he looks confused, startled, and lost. He’s usually excited and motivated. This Endicott situation is slowly killing Malcolm. I don’t know how much longer he can struggle under the weight of the guilt.
9:48 - Look at this. Ainsley is pissed off that Malcolm isn’t paying attention to her. We know that this whole 2nd murder was a sham so WTF? Is she really just that hungry for attention? That sounds like Martin Whitly to me - the narcissistic psychopath who needs attention like an addict needs cocaine. Also AINSLEY’S acting here?!? We know that she’s lying to Malcolm but holy shit. She’s a really good actress/liar? What else has she lied about?!? 
10:05 - Ok. So just when did Ainsley remember? I honestly think she’s known since at least 2x01.
10:20 - Look. I understand that Ainsley is pissed that Malcolm is trying to ‘control her’. But did she even listen to the desperation and fear in his voice? This boy wants her to stay in the loft because he’s scared of who she might hurt if she’s out in public, unsupervised. He’s not trying to abuse or hurt her - just protect her. Is he misguided -maybe? Should he have called the cops on Ainsley right away - probably. But he didn’t out of love. Ainsley doesn’t even seem to realize how much this whole situation is hurting Malcolm and that’s the biggest problem. She doesn’t show any remorse at killing Endicott. She’s just pissed off that Malcolm lied about it. SHE KILLED SOMEONE an she (outwardly at least) feels no remorse. This girl is a psychopath (sociopath?) and this will NOT end well for Malcolm and Jessica.  
10:27 - This whole scene was awesome btw. Tom Payne flawlessly communicated Malcolm’s panic, fear, anger, and desperate attempts to stay calm. And Dani’s blatant concern (and suspicion) of Malcolm and his mental state.  AND Ainsley being a little brat. Ugh. So beautiful.
10:45 - I love this scene. I love the fact that they have the type of friendship where Dani’s not afraid to call Malcolm out on his crap (trying to hide things from the team). I love that Malcolm isn’t offended that Dani called him out. He doesn’t lie. Ainsley is lost at the moment. Malcolm is more honest with Dani about how the whole Ainsley thing is affecting him than he is with anyone else. I love that Dani still looks suspicious and concerned. I love watching Dani piece this whole thing together. I’m honestly at a point where I think Dani is going to know about Endicott before Gil. I love that Dani gives Malcolm honest, judgement-free advise. Because she doesn’t like seeing how much pain Malcolm is in. I love that Malcolm isn’t completely shutting her out. <3
11:00 - “What if she already has?”.....yep. Dani is totally piecing the Endicott situation together. 
11:09 - “I’m overthinking it.” THIS. There is a split second where you can see the betrayal on Dani’s face. She knows Malcolm is hiding something and she’s hurt that he doesn’t trust her enough to let her in. She’s also probably hurt because she views this as a lie - which brings back 1x20 memories. 
11:35 - “Even when they’re as beautiful as you.” Ugh. I love this so so so so much. Look at how Dani absolutely lights up at Malcolm’s unintentional compliment. I relate to Dani in the sense that I’m a woman in a male dominated field (engineering). I can’t tell you how often men that she works with have probably objectified her, belittled her, and sexualized her. Malcolm isn’t doing this. He doesn’t call her hot. He doesn’t comment on her body or how she dresses. He doesn’t even acknowledge that she’s a woman. He just calls her beautiful. But he does it in a way that you can tell he’s being genuine. He doesn’t expect anything in return for the compliment. He’s not trying to play the long game. He’s just thinks she’s beautiful. He doesn’t even realize that he said it. BECAUSE Malcolm is in profiler mode. He’s focused on the murder - not Dani. He mentioned that Dani’s beauty off-handedly because 1) he believes it and 2) it was relevant to his profiling train of thought. BUT LOOK AT HOW MUCH IT MEANT TO DANI. <3 <3 <3
12:00 - Why is Chabra exiled to the corner of the room?!?! Someone explain this tomfoolery. Is it literally to just get across that Chabra is not the alpha in this corrupt plastic surgery business?!?
12:16 - Ew. Please never say YOLO. Ever. It’s cringy when kids say it but it’s so so so much worse when someone over 25 says it. 
12:18 - hhahahahahahaha OMG. Dani’s face after he says “yolo”. 
12:31 - Yep. This dude is an asshole. DO NOT try to convince Malcolm to get plastic surgery. The dude has enough problems without adding dysmorphia to the mix. 
12:41 - Yep. Chabra is the little puppy that follows Donahue around and does the grunt work.
12:50 - LOOK AT THE NOD DONAHUE GIVES CHABRA when Chabra denies that stock has gone missing. Can you arrest someone for being a rich, corrupt, asshole?! Ugh. Hate him. 
13:20 - Ugh. I really want to know more about Dani’s past. Who in the NYPD tried to belittle, micromanage, or sexualize her just because she’s a woman?
13:30 - “I want Donahue to be the bad guy.” PREACH SISTER.
13:48 - “Easy. We just isolate him with our own alpha males.” hahaha OMG. LET”S GO. I was so pumped when this scene cut to JT and Gil. BUT I was also a little sad. Malcolm doesn’t consider himself to be an alpha male (I mean, he’s not) but it really just drove home to be that Malcolm sees himself as broken. Gil has been Malcolm’s positive male role model for years. But Malcolm doesn’t think he’s anything like Gil. Malcolm thinks he’s broken where Gil is whole, weak where Gil is strong, and bad when Gil is good. It just sort of broke my heart. 
14:00 - hahaha Chabra is just a wimp. Watching Gil and JT play angry cop, calm cop was so so so good though. <3 
14:05 - This was the moment that I remembered LDP was directing this episode. I’m not usually someone who notices camera work or anything but this was a really cool shot. 
15:00 - Oh c’mon. Seriously? Edrisa’s crush has gone too far. She knows he doesn’t like her romantically. Everyone knows it. Please stop this. I’m getting secondhand embarrassment. 
15:16 - Did Edrisa think they were going to do it in the morgue?!? Those flowers?!? Like wtf. I can’t. 
15:29 - I’ll give props to Malcolm here. He’s being really kind to Edrisa here. BUT HE NEEDS TO TELL HER HE’S NOT INTERESTED BECAUSE SHE’S CLEARLY NOT GETTING THE MESSAGE. 
15:33 - Ugh. Look at how uncomfortable Malcolm is. This is upsetting.
16:08 - “What?!? How do you -” Panic. Pure panic in Malcolm’s eyes. Damn. This boy is spiralling. Someone needs to find out about Endicott. Malcolm can’t keep trying to protect Ainsley and Jessica alone. It’s literally killing him. 
17:14 - “All she could see was the ugliness she felt inside.” “That’s a sad way to live.” .........the parallels between the plastic surgery, dysmorphia, and vengeful crime of the week to Malcolm’s current mental health and Ainsley’s crime is slowly killing me. I’m honestly getting annoyed that the other characters aren’t picking up on all the subtle references Malcolm’s making to the fact that he thinks he’s a monster. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO COMFORT HIM. THAT’S ALL. WHY IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FEDAK!??! 
17:30 - Another point to the Dani/Malcolm friendship. She takes out the gun and pushes Malcolm back. Is she trying to protect him? Technically, yes. BUT she’s just doing her job. I love that Malcolm respects Dani enough to let her take charge and do her job. I love that he’s secure enough about his masculinity to let her. 
18:15 - Yikes. This woman is 90% plastic. Cosmetic plastic surgery is terrifying. 
20:16 - Another reminder of the woman’s ward. Either Sophie Sanders or Ainsley is going to end up in that ward soon (I’m still half-convinced that Sophie is going to appear out of the woodwork and take the fall for Endicott). 
21:49 - “...convinced her that she would never have a career unless she looked the part.” <3 Look at how disgusted Gil is when Dani tells him that. Gil is a good man and I love him forever. <3 
22:33 - I love this. Dani and Gil are both concerned about Malcolm and communicating it in looks. It won’t be long until there’s a team intervention for Malcolm’s mental health (or at least, that’s my headcanon - if someone wants to write me a fic about it I’ll love you forever).
22:44 - WTF GIL. WHY AREN’T YOU ASKING MALCOLM WHAT’S WRONG?!?! IS IT BECAUSE YOU ALREADY KNOW AND YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT YET?!?! 
22:49 -.....soooooo does this mean that Gil already knew that Birdie existed?!? How often did Birdie appear after Martin’s arrest?!?! I WANT DETAILS.
23:06 - Holy shit. Look at that little smirk Ainsley shoots Malcolm when he first walks in and sees her. Ainsley is maliciously toying with Malcolm and I DON”T LIKE IT.
23:14 - Jessica is concerned. I promise you Ainsley and Malcolm have rarely - if ever - fought like this in front of her. I was raised in single parent home after my abusive dad left. I know how that changes the sibling dynamic. No matter how genuinely pissed off you are - you don’t stress Mom out more. If you’re just annoyed with each other and doing regular ‘sibling squabbling’ - then you whine and argue in front of Mom. But if you’re seriously angry with each other - you deal with it when Mom isn’t home to see it because no matter what - you both appreciate how hard Mom is working to keep what’s left of your family together. 
23:28 - “Malcolm. Looking more like your father every day.” BITCH. Did she just say that because she watched Malcolm go off on Ainsley? Sure, Malcolm was a little controlling (probably similar to a situation Birdie witnessed between Jess and Martin back in the day) but HOLY SHIT. That is your nephew. Maybe he’s having a bad day. Maybe being told he resembles a serial killer is really damaging to his already fragile pysche. I don’t like Birdie. AND I DON”T LIKE THAT JESSICA DOESN”T STAND UP FOR MALCOLM HERE. 
24:00 - I don’t like this. These Martin+Capshaw scenes are really hard to watch. Martin is still acting like Martin - manipulative, egotistic, manicA. But he’s also acting like a professional doctor (an asshole doctor but still). It’s really disconcerting to watch Capshaw take his medical opinion seriously. Plus - there’s something about Capshaw that creeps me out. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. But I’m pretty sure she’s a bad lady.  
24:16 - “What bit should I use?” - See this? No. Just...no. I don’t like how she’s taking Martin’s medical advise to heart so readily. 
25:04 - Why was Martin allowed to watch the procedure?!? He’s clearly getting a sick amount of pleasure from the blood and drilling. Look at the way Martin grins at Capshaw too. Martin is planning out an entire scheme to manipulate Capshaw into helping him escape. You can see the metaphoric lightbulb above his head. 
25:29 - This meal. Seriously. Was I the only one who got a glimpse of the meat in a red sauce and thought “human meat”?!? No wonder Malcolm’s main food group is liquorice. 
25:44 - Poor Jessica. She is not having a good time. Jessica’s behaviour in this scene is really interesting though. Jessica repeatedly shoots apologetic looks at Malcolm. She looks at Ainsley with fear. She looks super uncomfortable. She’s not saying much because she desperately wants a relationship with her sister but she also doesn’t want to belittle her son’s career. She’s proud of Malcolm - in her own way. 
26:00 - “The family trust fund would run dry.” hahahahaha YES MALCOLM. THROW THAT SHADE. hahahaha
26:23 - “Most of the time anyway” Wow. Uncalled for. I know Ainsley is mad but this isn’t cool. I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that Birdie has been approached by Europol about the Endicott murder. I have this terrifying notion that Birdie is trying to collect intel so she can sell the information to Europol. If I’m right (which I’m probably not) this comment will not help Malcolm’s case.
26:41 - hahaha look at how annoyed Jessica is. Is she annoyed because her children are openly fighting in front of their Aunt when Jessica wants to portray the “perfect, undamaged family”? Or is Jessica annoyed because what Ainsley just said was out of line and she’s scared of Ainsley right now?
27:02 - “Why would you do that? I told you I would handle everything.” This. This is why I will argue that Ainsley is way out of line. Yes, Malcolm is sort of trying to control her. BUT listen to his words, the desperation and fear in his voice. Malcolm is trying to protect Ainsley. Ainsley has every right to be annoyed with him but if she was functioning at an adult mental capacity she’d be able to see that he isn’t being malicious. 
27:35 - The fact that Birdie is a backstabbing, lying bitch is so frustrating to me. Look at how badly Jessica wants to have a healthy relationship with her little sister. Jessica just wants a girl-friend to confide in and drink with. I’m heartbroken that Martin stole that from her. 
28:05 - I know LDP was directing this episode but JT or Dani should’ve called Malcolm. Why? This conversation between Gil and Malcolm (WHEN GIL IS WEARING HIS COAT) just makes me wonder - where is Gil going? JT is at Donahue’s apartment. Dani and Malcolm are going to talk to Chabra. Where is Gil going?!? 
29:07 - ....how did Donahue get the coke into the cheetah? Was there a release thingy (like in a piggy bank) that Malcolm just elected not to use in the panic of the moment? 
29:14 - “What else would you hide in a cheetah?” hahahahahaha
29:40 - “No. No. Only if I got the dose wrong.” Yikes. Malcolm is operating in full panic mode here. This is not good for his mental health. 
30:08 - “This is the worst cooking show ever.” hahaha this was hilarious but cooking show? What? Do I not watch enough of those? Because I don’t see the link. 
30:38 - The moment when Malcolm looks at Dani with fear. He thinks he just killed Chabra and he’s terrified that Dani is looking at him with hatred. :( 
30:46 - The two seconds when Malcolm thinks he killed someone. Look at his face. That boy is broken. Again - if he doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to be so annoyed with the writers because NO HUMAN CAN WITHSTAND THIS MUCH TRAUMA THIS QUICKLY - WITHOUT ANY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT - AND COME OUT FUNCTIONAL. 
31:03 - “I do not miss drugs.” :O Dani :( Sweetie <3 Ugh. This line was heartbreaking because it hurts to remember that Dani had a drug problem. But it’s also really great. She was just in front of 1 gram of cocaine. She didn’t grab for it. It didn’t reawaken the urge to use in her. She was strong enough to say “I don’t miss this life” and say it OUT LOUD in front of Malcolm. <3 Friendship. She’s starting to trust Malcolm more. This is good....until she finds out about Endicott. 
31:45 - Wait. If Birdie knew about Endicott and Jessica.....does she know about Gil?!?!
31:49 - “Trust but verify.” That’s such a heartbreaking way to live. I hate that she has to live in a world without trust because of what Martin did. I want Jessica to be happy. So so badly. 
32:06 - .....how did Jessica find out about the book?!!?! Seriously.
32:17 - “Mummy”. Mrs. Milton is alive?!?! What. OMG. So....but how? Jessica is living in the Milton family home. Jessica is rich. But Birdie has been cut off from the family money. However, it’s clear from this conversation that Jessica and her mother aren’t on speaking terms. So how did this work? When did Jessica move into the Milton family home and why? Where is Jessica’s money coming from? Did Jessica invest her trust fund money smartly and make a fortune? Does Jessica still have access to the Milton family bank accounts?!? AND WHERE IS JESSICA’S DAD?!!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION FEDAK. 
32:49 - Malcolm is his mother’s son. Look at this. Jessica is so hurt by what Birdie has done. However, Jessica sighs, takes a breath and helps her little sister out at the cost of causing herself pain. Malcolm would do the exact same for Ainsley. He has. 
33:40 - “And do we need to talk about last night?!?” Gil has been different this season. Less soft. More strict. 
33:51 - Look at how Gil stares at Dani here. He’s annoyed and concerned. Concerned because she was in close proximity to drugs last night. Annoyed because he created a monster. Gil put together is badass, sarcastic daughter with his unstable, awkward son and they are creating a headache for him.
34:41 - “even for consultants?” hahaha
36:50 - The irony that our killer of the week is a woman who is in pain, feels disfigured, and murders in revenge is so so thick. 
37:18 - “It’s enough to drive anyone insane”.....like the emotional pain that Malcolm is currently suffering from?
38:42 - “The best revenge is letting him live like this.” The moment Malcolm realized that Ainsley was manipulating him. Look at the hurt and fear on his little face. :( 
39:00 - Ugh. I can’t tell who’s manipulating who in this whole Capshaw+Martin relationship but it’s all gross. I swear if they become romantic I will puke. These two are a psychopathic match made in heaven. 
40:08 - I could write essays upon essays about this final scene but I need to sleep. So it’s going into point form without time stamps:
First off - Halston Sage and Tom Payne give us an AMAZING performance in this scene and they deserve an Emmy for it. Seriously. 
Look at how Ainsley walks into the room. She’s self-satisfied. She feels no remorse. She’s pleased that Malcolm has been suffering. 
Look at how utterly empty Malcolm is when he greets Ainsley. This boy is in shock. He’s so deeply hurt and he just had one of his greatest fears confirmed - Ainsley is like Martin. 
“Do you have any idea what you put me through?!?” This. Yes, Malcolm is upset and hurt but there’s a part of me that genuinely thinks this question isn’t rhetorical. There’s a part of me that thinks Malcolm is desperately trying to get Ainsley to admit to feeling remorse so that he can convince himself that his baby sister isn’t gone forever. 
“Do you?” Ainsley is mad. She has a right to be. Malcolm did lie to her. He probably should’ve told her the truth. HOWEVER, if Ainsley was a functional adult - she would’ve just confronted Malcolm about it. She has every right to be pissed but her behaviour has been downright petty, juvenile, and cruel. 
“Underestimated me. For months.” Is this the root of Ainsley’s anger? She mentioned something similar in 1x6 when Jessica and Malcolm tried to stop her from visiting Martin. She resents Jessica and Malcolm for treating her like a child. For trying to protect her from Martin. On one hand, I understand - that’s probably suffocating and frustrating. On the other hand, Ainsley’s acting like a child so....why wouldn’t they treat her like one?
“I have given up everything for you!! I don’t even know who I am anymore.” This breaks me. Malcolm is screaming through tears. He’s so utterly broken (this doesn’t count as a mental breakdown Fedak....you better give me more). Malcolm is rightfully frustrated that Ainsley doesn’t acknowledge that he literally threw out his moral code to protect her. That when this gets out - his relationship with his only real friends since he was 10 years old (JT and Dani) will probably want nothing to do with him. Malcolm probably thinks that Gil will abandon him WHEN the Endicott thing comes out. Malcolm has thrown his fragile mental health down the drain to protect Ainsley. He thinks he’s a monster. Yes. Malcolm made the choice to protect Ainsley. Ainsley doesn’t have to be grateful. She doesn’t have to respect his decision. But acknowledging that his decision was made out of love would sure help. Malcolm wanted to be a good big brother so badly that he threw away his sense of self.
“Protect me? Or control me?” Wow. Okay. I get it. Ainsley feels controlled which is bad for someone who likes being in control. But Malcolm was never trying to control Ainsley. Malcolm was trying to control a situation. Not a person. Is what Malcolm did right? No, lying to Ainsley wasn’t a great choice. But telling her the truth also wasn’t a great choice. He was damned either way. 
“For someone who spent the last few decades trying to recover from being gaslight; it’s ironic how quickly you resorted to it.” Uncalled for. Was Malcolm gaslighting Ainsley? Technically, yes. HOWEVER, one of the main criteria for gaslighting is that the gaslighter is aware that they’re gaslighting someone. I honestly don’t think Malcolm realized he was gaslighting Ainsley - look at his face when she mentions it: he looks heartbroken. BESIDES. How is AINSLEY NOT GASLIGHTING MALCOLM RIGHT NOW?!?! “That’s exactly what Dad would say.” She’s trying to convince Malcolm that he’s just like Martin. She’s made him believe that she murdered a second person. She made him an accomplice to her fake murder. She knowingly continued with this ruse after he came clean and told her the truth. And he was nothing but supportive and protective. Malcolm helped her hide a body. Why is Ainsley playing the victim?! 
Look at the torture on Malcolm’s face right before he apologizes to Ainsley for lying to her. This boy is being gaslight and he doesn’t even realize it. 
FURTHERMORE I DON’T RECALL AINSLEY APOLOGIZING TO MALCOLM FOR MAKING HIM 1) HIDE A BODY, 2) LIE TO THEIR MOM, 3) LIE TO GIL, 4) AN ACCOMPLICE TO A SECOND (FAKE) MURDER, 5) LYING TO MALCOLM ABOUT THE SECOND MURDER. She just says, “Maybe it was a little over the top.” Come on. No. 
“I appreciate that.” SERIOUSLY. Ainsley doesn’t even have the curtesy to say “I’m sorry too.” or “I know you did what you thought was best”?!? Her response feels bitter and angry. She doesn’t forgive Malcolm. She’s still livid despite the fact that her brother is literally breaking apart in front of her. There’s no questioning the genuineness of Malcolm’s apology. That’s sincere pain and remorse. 
This whole scene is super disturbing because Malcolm is on the verge of tears. He’s visibly upset. Yet - Ainsley is channeling a quiet, disassociating anger (similar to what she looked like right before she murdered Endicott). She’s completely consumed by anger. She’s not acting rationally and it’s really disconcerting to watch the contrast between the two siblings. 
“I had to make sure that you were never going to mess with my head again.” .....you know, a functional adult human (hell, even a half-functional adult human) would just verbally confront their sibling about it. They probably wouldn’t fully trust or forgive their sibling right away but they wouldn’t pull a stunt as cruel and malicious as Ainsley just pulled on Malcolm. The problem with Ainsley’s behaviour vs. Malcolm’s is this: Ainsley is intentionally hurting Malcolm out of anger. Ainsley wants revenge. Malcolm reacted out of fear and panic to protect Ainsley. Malcolm just wants to be a good big brother. Neither of them are perfectly in the right but Ainsley is so so so out of line. 
“You need to lighten up. We got away with it.” Ainsley is a serial killer. Say it from the rooftops. This is the first time she’s shown an emotion other than anger/disassociation all episode. Ainsley is happy that they got away with it. Malcolm is crumpling under the guilt and grief but Ainsley is happy. 
“No one does this murder stuff better than us.” Holy shit. I can’t. Malcolm looks so so so heartbroken here. He just realized that his sister is gone forever. AND AINSLEY damn. This girl needs some serious help. She’s going to kill again. She liked it the first time. I bet you she slaughtered the pig just to get her fix. She could’ve boughten the pig’s blood from a butcher shop or something but I bet you she killed the pig herself. And I bet you she liked it.
Hoxley is a flamboyant gay and a cocky profiler. That’s just a fact. 
I can’t. Alan Cummings will always be the villain from Spy Kids to me. I don’t know how I’m going to take Hoxley seriously. 
Yoooooo Endicott’s head is creepy af. 
Damn. This isn’t good. Hoxley is going to ruin Malcolm’s life. I can feel it. 
Okay. I loved this episode. I have a lot of feelings about it (obviously). I’m so bitter that we have to wait until April 13th for the next episode. See you guys next time. If you read this far - thanks for hanging out. 
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