#we asked like. half the fucking staff and nobody knew who he was

[scribespirare]

real life 'the average person only knows x' 'and y' 'of course' moment b/c not a single one of my coworkers knows who Pinochet was and up until now I would have assured you that basically everyone recognizes the name

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Ten

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4K] An enemies to lovers AU. Join the team at the Upside Down Arcade, where the machines eat your quarters and the staff have some personal issues. Stay tuned for the Pick Your Own Adventure polls to progress in the story.

“Who’s Logan Duncan?”

You faltered, hands slipping over the buttons of Dig Dug as you looked over at Steve. The game beeped angrily at you as one of the tiny dragons took your last life. You frowned, annoyed, and tried to not let the embarrassment of Steve’s question show on your face. 

You were the last two in the arcade, dealt another closing shift together because everyone else got the chance to reject Murray’s question first. Your name was pencilled in beside Steve’s on the staff schedule and due to recent events, it didn’t really bother you as much as it used to. You’d both spent the majority of closing playing on the machines, smirking at each other at every win and pointedly ignoring the bucket of soapy water you should’ve been using to clean the Icee stain that Dustin Henderson created over by Donkey Kong. 

“Who?” You tried and failed to sound nonchalant.

Steve frowned too, holding up a piece of wrinkled paper that had a phone number scrawled on it, a name underneath with the instructions to ‘call me.’ You’d thought nothing of it when the stranger had slipped it to you across the desk that afternoon. The guy - Logan - had been nice enough, fairly handsome with short blonde hair and a nice smile who’d tried all afternoon to win enough tickets for his little sister. 

But that didn’t matter. 

“This guy,” Steve waved the slip of paper in front of you, scowling when you shoved another coin into the machine. Dig Dug started up again, beeping like it was arguing with him. “It fell out of your jacket when I was cleaning the office.”

You snorted, your eyes back on the screen even though you knew Steve was staring at you. “Nobody cleans the office, Steven.”

Steve ignored this, staring down at the note. The handwriting was much neater than his, he noticed. “So, are you gonna call him? This Logan guy, I’m guessing he wants a date, you gonna go?” He said the strangers name in an exaggerated drawl, like it was a ridiculous thing to be called.

“Are you jealous?” You asked, a smile starting at the corners of your mouth, lifting your lips too easily. Dig Dug was still playing, the digitised beeps filling the silence as you tore your gaze away from your tunnels to look at the boy. 

Steve was pink and glaring, rosy cheeked as he scowled at you. He would’ve argued back immediately if it weren’t for the pit of his stomach turning over. He knew he was flushed, the tips of his ears no doubt red, but he felt fucking green. He’d been hooking up with you for the past month, nothing promised, nothing spoken about. Just the usual teasing and arguments broken up by frantic make out sessions in the back of his car, his fingers slipping under your skirt when you were both still fuzzy with sleep and early for a shift. 

It had been a month of pulling at clothes, little patience had when it came to getting the other one as undressed as possible in a half hour lunch break. You lied easily to your friends, your parents, your co-workers, hardly feeling guilty as you snuck out your bedroom window and into the BMW that was parked half way down the street. The way Steve made you feel was too good to feel guilty over. 

And that was becoming a problem. 

“Jealous?” Steve repeated. “Me? No. No!”

He was cute when he floundered, you realised. Always handsome, but especially cute as he stared at you wide eyed and fidgeting, his hands - and Logan’s number - shoved into his pockets before he changed his mind and crossed his arms over his chest instead. 

“Why would I need to be jealous? We’re not- we’re not like, dating or anything.” Steve swallowed hard, biting back the ‘are we?’ he wanted to add onto the end of his statement. “I’m just, you know, wondering.”

The arcade was quiet as you watched the boy struggle through his words, shyness biting at his cheeks, his skin cotton candy pink under the lights. Once again, Dig Dug died and the game beeped at you, the screen flashing brightly. Steve Harrington seemed determined to make you lose your high score, one way or another. 

“No, I guess we’re not,” you mused, making a face that made Steve wonder what your game plan was. You looked too calm, less concerned about the conversation topic than the boy was. “I suppose I should call him then, huh?”

Steve’s frown returned, a deep thing that pinched his brows together and he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Logan’s number had disappeared from his hold, and you wondered if it was a scrunched up ball in the depths of his jeans pocket. You turned away from the screen, leaning against the machine instead, the low lights of the arcade turning you both into shades of neon and shadows, inky where it wasn’t bright. 

“He doesn’t look your type, princess.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself. For all the years of poking and pressing and teasing each other, a jealous Steve might just be your new favourite game. You pouted, all dramatic, doe eyed and pretty. “He doesn’t?” You brushed an imaginary piece of lint off of Steve’s chest, just for an excuse to touch him. “Tell me, what’s my type, Harrington?”

Steve was on you before you could stop yourself from grinning, your smile devoured by his lips, an angry kiss that was full of frustration. Steve missed you until you gave in, lips melting between his, a pretty push and pull that had enough fight behind it that it made him groan. You let him back you up against the side of Dig Dug, the buzz of the electronics inside making your skin fizz, Steve’s open mouthed kisses down your neck doing the same. 

It’s why you’d started wearing dresses to work, skirts, all flowy and short, easily pulled up in the same way that Steve was doing now. His hands wandered easily, more than used to what you liked, what you wanted, how you felt against him. One hand was on the nape of your neck, keeping your mouth against his, the other trailing fire up your bare thigh. You were just as ready for it all, fingers fisting his hair, pulling him closer as if to prove some kind of point. Steve was pressed up against every inch of you, already half hard from the way you whined when he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Someone who can turn you on like this,” Steve finally answered, breathless as he was cocky. His fingers slipped under the cotton of your underwear, barely ghosting over your slit but you were wet enough that he moaned alongside you. “Shit, honey, already so needy, huh?” He tutted, all mock condescension, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he grinned. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you told him, but your breath was a little weak, wrecked by lust and you were still clinging onto Steve as he continued to tease two fingers over your folds. 

Steve hummed, barely able to keep himself from laughing. It was a warm wash of hair over your neck, another kiss to your jaw. His fingers explored further, Steve cooing softly when you brought one foot up to press against Space Invaders, spreading yourself wider for him. Steve had you pressed between to arcade machines, hardly hidden, but far away enough from the one working camera above the cash register. 

“You like it,” he reminded you, coaxing another pretty noise from your lips as he rubbed softly over your clit. It was a slow tease, something you both rarely had time for, but Steve seemed intent on proving himself today. “Don’t you? C’mon, princess, you’re usually so chatty for me. Don’t you wanna tell me how much you like it?”

You weren’t sure what Steve was referring to anymore, if he wanted to know that you liked it when he teased you, or if you liked what he was doing to your cunt, those slow, lazy circles on your clit that was making a mess of his hand. 

You whined, impatient and bratty and not wanting to give in. So you curled a hand around Steve’s wrist instead, silently telling him he better not stop. But the boy tsked, a disapproving sound that still made your cunt clench down on nothing, and shit, maybe Steve could tell because he was smirking even wider than before. 

“D’you think Logan could make you feel like this?” Steve cooed, voice dropping an octave, a raspy, warm thing that made you shiver. “Hmm? Think he could touch you this good? I make you come real hard, don’t I princess? Tell me.”

You were panting, eyebrows pinched together, body lazy against Steve’s as you trusted him to keep you upright. You knew the boy wanted an answer, wanted you to give in and beg and plead all pretty, doing everything he could to get your voice that breathy way he loved. 

“You’re- you’re alright,” you tried to tease but you sounded pitchy and desperate, fingers scratching through Steve’s hair just to drop and cling to his shoulders instead. 

Steve grinned when he kissed you, a bruising thing that was meant to make you back down but you licked your tongue over his with as much heat as he did. It wasn’t a secret Steve could make you come. Shit, he could make you come embarrassingly fast, his fingers and tongue well acquainted with every part of you now. His ego was far from bashed at your words, he knew what he did to you, ‘cause you did the same to him. Still, he frowned, a mocking pout on his lips as he tried to pretend you hurt his feelings. Instead, his cock jumped in his jeans, pressing against the denim and he tried his best not to rut against your thigh. 

“Try again, honey.” Steve’s fingers fell away from your clit only to dip inside of you, two curled up just right, thick and stretching you out. His voice was sugar, syrup, sticky sweet and falling onto your skin. “C’mon, I know you wanna be good for me.”

And you did. But old habits die hard so you grinned and cupped Steve’s crotch, palming over the denim until you could wrap your fingers around the outline of his hard cock. You watched his eyes flash and his nostrils flare at your touch, hips jutting forward like he couldn’t help himself. 

“I dunno - mmph - think I could be good for a guy who took me out.”

Steve’s mouth dropped, lips parting and eyes going a little hazy, both at your touch and his words. He leaned in, fingers slowing, a lazy drag in and out, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm. His forehead touched yours, breath fanning over your cheeks and you could smell his cologne, that expensive stuff that now clung to your pillowcases, the jacket you wore the night before when he had you pressed into the backseat of his car. 

“Yeah?” Steve groaned, nose bumping yours, eyes fluttering shut ‘cause you were squeezing the hard length of him, smiling every time his cock twitched in your hold. Still, he didn’t make a move to undo his jeans, happy to let you tease him despite the way he thumbed over your clit. “You wanna go on a date w’me, princess?”

“I didn’t say that,” you panted, always wanting an argument. Your eyes fluttered closed, a fight to keep them open as Steve hooked his fingers and rubbed little circles inside of you. “So full of yourself, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, liking the bite, the fight, the bitchy, bratty side of you that kept him hard as a fucking rock. He kissed at your cheek, sweeter than you deserved. “I think you’ll find you’re full of me, sweetheart.” 

You would’ve rolled your eyes, maybe even snarked back, but Steve sped up his movements and put more pressure on your clit, heat hooking in your stomach and windingwindingwinding. 

“Want you inside me,” you said instead, a whimper clawing at your throat, your hands pulling at Steve’s jean button. “Like, right now.”

Steve let out a noise that was a mix between a moan and a whine; a needy, wrecked thing that only made you even more desperate for him. He’d had you every way bar that, had his fingers and mouth and tongue discovering every part of you, in the back of his car, in the staff room, the store cupboard, your bedroom when your parents left for the weekend. 

But something always happened, time ticked too fast, condoms were lost from impatient fingers behind towers of boxes, police officers shone flashlights into windows and co-workers banged on locked doors. But now. Now…

“You’re - oh shit - you’re tryin’ to distract me from my point,” Steve argued weakly, his eyes closing as you shoved his jeans out of your way and pushed your hand into his boxers. He was hot and hard and leaking, finger barely able to wrap around the girth of him but he hissed at your touch. “We were having a discussion, princess - fuck me, do that again - about, ‘bout a date.”

You pulled the boy into you, pushing up to your toes, up against Steve, your free hand fisting the collar of his T-shirt until he took the hint and kissed you. Hands still played with the other, slow teases that faster and more precise the more your lips touched. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, a salacious plead that made your body flush with heat but Steve just threw his head back and let you nip at his throat. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, fingers slipping from your cunt, leaving wetness against your thigh as he grabbed at you, hitching your leg higher up his hip. He ground into you, pushing his cock further into your hand, crushing his hips into yours. Your dress slipped up, the pretty fabric bunching between you, showing off the wet patch on the front of your underwear and Steve swore down he blanked out, just for a second. “Tell me you wanna go on a date with me, honey. Admit it and I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.”

You weren’t ready to lose this game, this fight. Not yet. So you doubled down and let out a soft whine, a pretty, girlish sound that matched the way you looked up at Steve from beneath your lashes, doe eyed and lips parted, your mouth a pink, pouty thing from all his kisses. You felt his cock throb in your hand and you gave him a little squeeze before you spoke. 

“Don’t you wanna fuck me?” You were whispering, still pressed between the arcade machines and up against Steve, both of you bathed in ultraviolet light. Dig Dug still beeped for attention, an incessant noise, but Steve’s choppy breaths were louder. “Because I want you to fuck me so bad, Steve. Please?”

He groaned, head ripping forward in defeat so you taste the sound on your lips, his teeth nipping at your jaw, your throat. He was losing it, losing the game, losing the fight, losing control. Steve rolled his hips into yours, nudged his nose at your cheek and waited until you met his gaze. His eyes were hooded, darker than ever, burnt caramel under thick lashes. 

“Say ‘please’ again for me,” he murmured, lips brushing over yours, an almost kiss, but you could taste his words and they were spun sugar, they were dripping in sin. “Shit, princess, say ‘please’ again.”

So you smiled, saccharine sweet, pecking at Steve’s lips once, twice before you whispered, “please fuck me, Steve.”

It all happened fast after that, Steve fumbling in his wallet for a condom, the packet falling to the floor before you stepped on the foil, hands pulling at Steve’s boxers, at your own underwear. Cotton and lace got stuffed into Steve’s pocket, his lips kissing a trail over your thighs as he held you pull them off, everything about it messy and frantic. He took a quick lick through your folds while he was on his knees, rough and deep enough that you gasped out, legs buckling, dragging him back up to by his hair to kiss you. He grunted as you licked the taste of yourself off his tongue, his hands grabbing at your waist almost too tight before he told you:

“Turn ‘round, honey.”

The pet names were falling from his mouth too easily, coated in affection because he was too caught up in the way you spun for him, hands braced ok the arcade machine, back arched for him. Even when he called you ‘princess’ now, it was with a fondness that he’d managed to hide before.  

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised, smoothing a hand over your ass, bringinf your dress up to fist it at your lower back, holding you as he tugged at his cock, once, twice, and gave you the first inch. “Jesus Christ, look at you.”

He was a stretch, something you’d anticipated, because every time you took Steve’s cock in your mouth, your jaw ached and it was a messy, sloppy thing. But Steve loved it, cooing and praising you for every inch you could take, telling you how pretty you looked and now was no different. He palmed at your ass as he slid in a little more, pulling at your cheeks so he could watch the way your pussy sucked him in, pink and pretty and wet. 

He was gone. 

“Yeah, fuck, takin’ my cock so well, honey, does that feel good?” He was rambling, words tripping from his lips too fast, punctuated with harsh pants as he smoothed a comforting hand down your spine. You could only nod and whine in response. “Fucking Christ, she’s such a pretty thing, so greedy, huh? Does she want more?”

Steve slipped a hand round your front, fingers trailing across the soft of your stomach, over the swell of your chest until he found the edge of your sundress and he could pull down the collar, fingertips pulling roughly at a nipple. “Tell me.”

You found your voice then, huffing out a moan before pulling Steve closer by the nape of his neck, your back crushed to his front, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare ass every time he rocked his hips into you. 

“More, yeahyeahyeah,” you told him, eyes closed, head thrown back against his shoulder so he could kiss and bite and suck at your neck. You were going to be a mess tomorrow, skin littered in six shades of purple because of Steve fucking Harrington. “Harder, Steve.”

He did as you demanded, hand leaving your chest so he could drag it up to your neck and press his fingers to the skin there, firm enough that you got a little wetter, clenching around him as he held you against his chest, fucking up into you at a pace that was quickly making you fall apart. 

“Oh my god, shit, Steve—”

You felt him nod, cheek rubbing against yours sweetly, the beginnings of stubble scraping across your jaw and he kissed away the sting, his lips peppering over your cheek, your chin, your neck. “I know, I know, honey,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, ruined. He moaned out your name, a quiet thing just for you to hear. “Please tell me you’re close.”

You whined an agreement, hips pushing back against Steve’s so he could fuck into you deeper, your cheek leaning against the side of Dig Dug while Steve pounded you from behind. It made you feel a little hazy, body connected to Steve’s, the faraway noises of the arcade melting with the lights, the sound of skin on skin and your stuttered breaths. 

“Touch yourself,” Steve ordered, hips losing their rhythm. He was close. You could tell by the way his hand was clutching at your hip, still holding the hem of your dress as the blunt of his nails scraped over your skin, you could tell by the way he was whispering your name like a fucking prayer. “Touch that clit, honey, show her some love for me.”

You obeyed, too easily, the same way you did when you were on your knees for him and he told you he wanted to watch you touch yourself while he rubbed the head of his cock over your tongue. It was fucking awful, how easily you did what Steve asked. But your middle and pointer found the bundle of nerves and a livewire went through you, body electric, pulsing, buzzing, all with the slick slide of Steve’s hard length slipping in and out of you. You tensed up, jaw dropping, forehead thudding almost too against the game machine. 

“M’gonna come,” you managed to warn the boy, fingers running fast circles between your thighs. “Steve, I’m so fucking close.”

Steve didn’t waste any time, growling something filthy as he let his hand leave your neck to hold you round your tummy instead, hauling you back against him so he could feel every part of him pressed along your body. Hands sneaking over the soft of your stomach, cupping at your tits, lips kissing at your shoulders, nose nudging up behind your ear so he could groan softly into your hair as you clenched around his cock. 

“That’s it?” He murmured sweetly, too sweet for how he was grinding his dick into you. “There? Yeah, honey?”

You whined, murmuring your agreement as you clutched at his hands, doing your best to tangle your fingers with his so there was something to hold onto as you fell apart. You shattered, a noiseless scream leaving your throat as you fell forward, a hand planted against the buttons of Dig Dug and the screen flashed its scoreboard with yours and Steve’s name at the top. Steve tumbled over the edge soon after, a few quick pumps of his hips until he was spilling into the condom and groaning into the hair against your neck, your bodies slick and hot with exertion. 

It was a quiet, comfortable bubble when he finally slipped out of you, both of you catching your breaths. It was fuschia coloured, neon green and cyan blue, quiet and fuzzy, a bubble you didn’t want to pop. Steve got rid of what he needed to put in a trash can out back before he returned to help you back into your underwear, a kiss he couldn’t help give pressed to your knee as he slid the cotton back up your legs. Your dress was smoothed down, your hands petted at his wild hair and you both tried not to laugh at the marks on your necks, the glossy sheen of your swollen lips, the bright thing in both your eyes that could only come from a good orgasm and happiness. 

Steve cleared his throat as he pulled Logan Duncan’s phone number from his pocket once more. It was crumpled and scrunched, a little ripped and he squinted at it before showing it to you between two fingers. 

“So, I’ll pick you up at eight?” 

His cockiness was back, a confident question that he already knew the answer to because he was letting the piece of paper drop to the floor. You smiled, rolled your eyes and dropped all pretence of the game. 

‘What game?’ you thought. When did you stop pretending to hate Steve Harrington?

“You gonna come to my door? Meet my parents?” You asked, smug, excited. Nervous. “Gonna wine and dine me, Harrington?”

Steve grinned. 

BONUS CHOICES

[fuck-customers]

This is a fuck coworkers.

I work overnight at a convenience store. In recent weeks, we've lost a lot of our staff for various reasons. One person's out on medical leave, our old assistant manager found a new job and quit, and a third person was fired for giving out free cigarettes. A fourth person is transferring pretty soon, and our part timer who works in the early mornings has a history of flakiness, which just leaves me, the store manager, and the new assistant manager who's being trained from scratch. We're all overworked and we're all fucking sick of it. Which is why I was totally okay with my manager taking a weekend to himself after working nearly 3 weeks straight with no days off.

We knew about this long beforehand. There were no surprises. We had a plan: since I know bits and pieces of the manager's duties, I was going to help our assistant while bossman was out of town. He gets his weekend, and I get to actually go home before the sun comes up for once, which has been a struggle ever since the clocks changed. Win win. But THEN, the day before my manager leaves, our assistant manager calls off due to COVID. Now, the veracity of her claim is up in the air. My boss thinks the timing was no coincidence, and that she's probably a bit nervous about having to do his duties while he's away, but she presented proof of a positive test, so the higher ups have to give her PTO just in case. Bossman's obviously disappointed, but not discouraged. He puts together a last minute plan in which the part timer comes in to relieve me at 7 am, and leaves me to do the manager's stuff all by myself. I'd just have to call someone from a different store to help me with the paperwork. No biggie. One small problem: remember how I said our part timer has a history of flakiness? Yeah. I wasn't having that.

I've been flaked on by her many, many times in the past, and I wasn't about to wait until lunchtime to get off work (leaving a store that's supposed to be open 24/7/365 unattended would get me fired, so I'm stuck there until someone comes to relieve me). So I call the district supervisor and I ask her to send someone to help me with the paperwork that morning. However, she tells me that my manager will be there that morning, when I know FOR A FACT that he won't. He told me himself, but he DID NOT tell HIS boss, which is inarguably more important. So now, I was backed into a corner, and I spilled the beans and told her what his plan was. I emphasized that I was worried that I wouldn't get off till much later, because, you know, flakes, and told her if nobody came to relieve me before 7 am, I wouldn't be able to work the following night because I'd need to waste a whole day catching up on sleep. Perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, right?

She understands, but now my manager's upset with me because she's blowing up his phone, because he failed to tell her he'd be taking that extra day off. Now, I know district managers are typically harder on store managers than us regular cashiers, but requesting two days is perfectly reasonable and he had a backup plan. There was no reason not to at least TELL her, and she would have found out regardless.

Anyway, she agrees to come in and help me with the paperwork, so I still get to go home at a reasonable time like I planned, but I still feel bad, so I put in a good word for my manager in an attempt to save his ass. I tell her it's just a stroke of bad luck that his store is in such disrepair, which, yeah, honestly it is. Losing half your employees in 2 weeks is bad luck, plain and simple, and while I agreed that my manager needed his days off, it really feels like I'm left to clean up everyone else's mess. And now I feel like a pariah at work because I was never made aware that he didn't tell his boss the truth, and that I wasn't about to rely on someone I knew I couldn't solely on her word. But whatever. I'm not gonna be at this job forever, at least.

[open--till--midnight]

He's Alright

jaskier x gn!reader

summary | jaskier whump, plain and simple

warnings | gore/violence (i think canon level, correct me if i'm wrong), language, idk it's a bit sad, I didn't feel like proof reading so I didn't, sorry

wc | 1.1k

a/n | this ended up extremely angsty and whumpy. I blame it on the suspiria (2018) soundtrack (fuck i'm obsessed)…yeah thats it

By this point, his blood had covered your hands completely, staining everything in your arms reach red. His breathing was shallow, the only other noise coming from him was the wet wheezing sound brought on by the blood in his lungs. The bard’s eyes had finally closed. You had to watch them stare at you before they glazed over and shut.

While you were strong, Jaskier was heavier than he looked and weighed, even more, when his dead weight was in your arms. But, he wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least. The beasts and their reward were long forgotten as you hauled him and your swords towards the nearest village.

The tears in your eyes burned just as your legs and arms did. But you had finally reached an infirmary. The staff practically ripped him out of your stiff arms and took him away, leaving you dazed and sitting by yourself.

You could hear voices coming from inside the building, hurried and frantic, but they stayed calm. Unlike you. Though you knew he was in good hands, more capable than yours, you hadn’t calmed down. You could feel your heart in your throat, and though it had been days since you last ate, you were nauseous.

While traveling with him, Jaskier had gotten hurt. Nothing serious, and usually by his own fault. You would protest and tell him how you could have protected him, but he always shut you down. But this time it really was your fault.

Every time you would leave for a hunt, Jaskier would ask you if he could join. His childlike eyes didn’t work on you, the answer was always no. Except for today. It was just supposed to be some drowners, that’s all. That’s fucking all. Why wouldn’t you say yes? It would be easy, and he wanted to write a song firsthand. And even though you told him it wouldn’t make a good story, he insisted it would.

There were drowners. Only, there were more than the villagers had said. But still, nothing you couldn’t handle. Jaskier had settled himself behind a tree, watching and waiting.

It was going well until you heard Jaskier cry out, just after you slew the last drowner. Turning around, you saw him, multiple hims. A half dozen, exactly. And one of them had a knife to Jaskier’s neck.

Your vision went blurry and you lost it. It was as if you were possessed, moving without your guidance. You last approached the man who had your lover. Jaskier was pressed to the ground, the man’s boot crushing his left hand and his sword to his gut.

You circled him with an intense focus, clarity of which you had never imagined possible. Though, that ended once the tip of the man’s sword entered Jaskier. Red immediately permeated the white of his shirt and before you knew it your sword was lodged in the man’s neck.

A sob broke through you as you fell to your knees beside Jaskier. He was trying to speak but his state prevented him from doing so. Your tears fell on top of his as you pressed your forehead to his.

You pulled back after only a few seconds and flew into panic mode. The only thing on your mind was Jaskier’s safety.

Now you sat on the dirt outside of the infirmary, not bothering to wipe away the tears flowing steadily on your cheeks. If only Geralt was here. Your mentor would certainly know what to do, how to help. Only after scolding you, of course. You deserved it, you thought while frowning.

The sun had gone down an hour ago and still, nobody had come out. You prepared yourself for the worse. ‘He’s gone. We’ve done all we could. You can say goodbye before we have to take the body away’ Oh gods.

And what if he survived? How could you expect him to forgive you? You should have known it wasn’t safe for him. It would never be safe for a bard to join anyone on a hunt. And what made your tears flow even harder was the thought of his hand. The crunch you had heard right before you practically blacked out in rage. You wanted to scream, and you almost did until a nurse beckoned you inside.

She offered you her hand and you took it, without a second thought. You held the stranger’s hand in a death grip until you reached his bed. The curtain was drawn back and you saw him. It was strange how ok he looked. Besides his pallor, he looked fine. But when you looked down, his hand was wrapped just as his torso was. It was far too clinical for your liking, the room included. It made you sick.

He was asleep so you settled on a chair by his side and waited. His breathing was back to a more natural cadence and you could see his eyes move behind his eyelids. The telltale sign of him dreaming. It made your lips quirk up, not quite a smile but it was as close as you were going to get to one until he woke.

As the night went on, you fell asleep. Your head was rested on the bed beside his shoulder. It was an uncomfortable position, but that was the least of your worries. You just wanted your bard to wake up.

In your dreams, you saw the day's events, over and over until it was a hellscape you couldn’t break out of. You shuddered out of your sleep and awoke to the sun resting gently upon your face. When you looked up your saw those familiar dreamy eyes you fell in love with.

“Hello, dear heart.”

His hoarse voice made your heart break and caused tears to spring from your eyes once more.

“Don’t cry, y/n. I’m ok, look.” The tears in his own eyes didn’t go unnoticed. He was in pain, torment even. Not so much over the physical pain he was enduring, but what the injuries he sustained in his hand would entail. Would he be able to play again? If he could would he ever be as good as he once was?

He shook as he reached over to hug you, but you gently pushed him back down, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier. And I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you.”

He held the back of your head in his hands, encouraging you to look at him.

“Don’t say that again, please. I know, but it’s not your fault. None of it.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he shushed you first, squishing you into his chest until he sputtered in pain.

“Oops.”

[spinster-sisters]

Criminal. khj

TW: Violence kinda, weapons kinda, illegal stuff obviously, exhibitionism, marking, posesiveness, gang? au? possibly, I honestly dont know what this is.

WC: 6k

I normally dont do summaries but I got a funny one:

You and your boyfriend escape a bank robbery.

-

The toe of your shoe clicks against the marble floor as you tap your foot. Across the room, high up on the wall there is an analog clock ticking down the seconds. It’s getting late, and the bank teller couldn’t be going any slower. Only two people ahead of you now.

You check your phone for the fifth time in the past 10 minutes, no update. Must not be running as late as you thought. You shift your weight to your other foot only to start taping once again. Ok sure, you weren’t late, it doesn’t mean you like how long this damn lady is taking.

The line moves up as the teller begins helping the next person. You attempt to swallow your impatience as best you can, pulling out your phone again to quickly slide between apps, but the longer you stand there the louder the ticking of the clock seems to echo around the room.

Looking away from your device, you take another look around the room. Nothing has changed since you came in. In between the doors and the lines, there was a seating area filled with two uncomfortable-looking couches facing each other and a coffee table between them. There were still 3 tellers sitting at their desks, 10 customers in line counting you. Two in the first line, three in the second, yourself, and two others in the last. About as busy as you would expect at this time of day. But the waiting still sucked.

Finally, you hear the teller ask “is there anything else I can help you with?” And you know that soon it will be your turn at the window. Pulling out your phone again you shoot a quick text.

[ it’s my turn next, hopefully, I’ll be out of here soon ]

1:24pm

Just as the woman in front of you steps away a notification dings on your phone.

[ See you soon ;) ]

1:25pm

You sighed at your boyfriend's message, thinking the winky face was a bit on the nose for your taste. But Hongjoong liked to tease.

Dropping your phone back into your pocket, you look up just as the teller motions you forward. The click of your shoe against the tile seems almost deafening in the quiet room as you step forward, trying to mask the small smile Hongjoong’s message had given you.

“what can I help you with today?” The lady at the counter-question with subdued chirpiness. Clearly, she has had a long day, already ready for it to be over. The thought made you wince.

“Hi, there seems to be a problem with the direct deposit on my account. My last paycheck didn’t go in.” You start, placing both hands on the counter.

The teller nods, with mock understanding, clearly just an impulse for years of customer service. Somewhere outside several car doors slam, but no one inside seems to notice the sound.

“Could I have the number of the account?” The teller asks, placing both hands on the keyboard and frowning at the screen, prepared to type whatever comes out of your mouth. You don’t have time to say it.

All the lights on the monitor suddenly shut off. The woman helping you looks taken aback for a second, looking over to her coworkers only to see them doing the same. The hairs on the back of your neck shoot up as nerves build in your stomach.

The next thing happens so quickly you barely register it. The glass door slides open and a metal canister flies into the room. Acting on instinct your hands fly to your ears, your eyes screwed shut, and you drop to your knees. Even with your ears covered it does little to silence the ear-splitting bang that rips through the room. It sends the rest of the room's inhabitants to the floor seconds after you, either from shock or from the disorienting mix of light and sound that came from the small device.

Flashbang.

Your heart jumps up to your throat. You open your eyes but did not let your hands drop just yet. The ring was still sounding in the room, but the blinding light had gone. Just as the last of the ringing fizzled out the doors slid open again.

A group of masked figures took confident strides into the room. Your eyes searched the street behind them, looking for anyone who might notice what’s going on. There was no one. Your stomach dropped again. The others in the room finally seemed to be regaining their hearing and sight, only to shriek when the men came into view. Swallowing your nerves you do a headcount of the patrons. Three tellers, ten customers including yourself. All adults, no children. That was good, children would cause problems.

After assessing the situation and taking a few deep breaths, you look over to the group of men who were starting to spread out around the room. The more you looked at them the more frightening they appeared. Each of the men were were dressed head to toe in black with a mask covering the bottom half of their faces, but even as you sized them up you avoided looking at their eyes, drawing attention to yourself now would be stupid.

Every one of them carried a gun. But as they fanned out across the room only one had it pointed. The same one that spoke.

“Anyone not on the ground better get that way. We don’t have all day.” The voice that spoke was calm but had a clear edge. The tones meaning ran clear in your ears as much as everyone else’s, calm does not mean forgiving. You kept your head down, trying your best to sink into the shadows trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, that’s what people always said to do right?

You heard a few thuds as the few people in the room who remained standing dropped to the floor. None of the other patrons or staff said a word. Thank god, fighting would make this much more difficult.

“Great, now I want everyone’s hands on the ground in front of them. Try to call anyone and one of us will put a new hole in your head, so why don’t we make this easy and nobody make a sound.” The voice continued in that same tone. Your eyes shot up to make sure everyone was following orders as you placed your own hands on the cold tile next to your bare knees, they were already getting stiff and you hoped this would be over quickly.

A few of the men began walking through the people on the floor, hands on their guns but not drawn, checking just as you did that everyone was behaving. As one of the taller ones drifted toward your spot you stared at the same tile a few feet ahead of you, matching the other patrons around you.

You heard the heavy thuds of footsteps as they paused in front of you, just for a moment. You felt the gaze burn into the top of your skull as you stared forward, holding your breath.

“You don’t look nearly scared enough.” The new voice spoke, completely nonchalant. The next moment, a heavy leather boot pressed down onto your hand, crushing it against the tile. You winced and let out a small cry as pain shot up your arm. It stung as he dug his foot harder onto your hand. Both hands started to shake as the pain built, the knot that had formed in your chest from the moment the flash-bang fell through the air tightened till your breath became choked and shaky. Suddenly the pressure was gone.

“Much better,” the voice all but giggled before moving on.

You took a heaving breath as soon as the boots left your field of vision. You felt sweat start to form on your brow bone. You looked up again. A few terrified faces of other patrons looked at you with fear, clearly expecting that the man was going to blow your head off.

The man who spoke first stepped forward and motioned to the middle teller who was watching petrified from behind his desk, head barely peeking over the edge.

“You,” he started again, taking long strides across the room, walking within a few feet from you on your right side to the opening that led behind the counter, “Why don’t you show me to the safe?” He asked, voice still disconcertingly cordial. The teller gapped for a moment, and the man tilted his head expectantly. The teller stumbled to his feet, eyes not moving from the shiny gun trained on him. He did little more than gesture vaguely for the man to follow him before they both disappeared behind the doors that lead to the back of the bank, 2 of the other men followed behind him.

The room was stiff with tension. For the patrons at least. All of you seemed to be holding your breath, but the men could not seem calmer. Their postures were relaxed, many of them had their arms crossed over their chest or were leaning against furniture. None of them even had their weapons drawn, but they were still visible. Enough to keep everyone shaking with fear with their heads down. It was bizarre but effective for the time being.

Your head was absolutely swimming. Trying to keep notice of the positions of everyone in the room, taking shooting glances around for a few seconds at a time, checking the faces of your fellow hostages. Everyone knows in situations like this it’s best to just comply, you sure fucking hoped the others knew that as well. You tried to lead by example anyway. And then there were the men. You didn’t dare look any one of them in the eye, knowing what kind of consequences that would bring. But you tried to keep tabs on them. They weren’t moving much in the few minutes since the three men disappeared with the teller, but any slight movement they gave was noteworthy into your mind. You had to keep things under control.

The minutes ticked on in almost complete silence, save for the one man who was humming of all things. How could they possibly be relaxed right now you did not know. The sound was harsh against your ears for how gentle it was, it kept distracting you from your thoughts.

The thought in question was a dangerous one. Your back was beginning to ache from being hunched over and your palms were sweating uncomfortably against the marble. From where you sat against the furthest teller window you were blocked from the direct view of every robber by either furniture or walls. What you wanted to do was risky, any slight movement on their behaves would land you in their line of sight. That was an opportunity for anyone who could take it.

You need to text Hongjoong. He needed to know what was going on. You watched the men carefully for the next few minutes, looking for any sign that they might start looking around, but they all seemed perfectly content in their places. With a shaking hand, you slowly began reaching into your pocket. You managed to pull the device out without anyone noticing, but as you slid it into your lap and under your shirt one of the other patrons saw, and their eyes shot wide open. Shit.

They looked at you with frantic, pleading eyes that screamed call for help. They were looking too obvious. You swallowed and shook your head, trying to get them to look away, but they didn’t.

“Heads down,” a deep voice called. Both you and the other patron snapped your eyes to the floor, but after listening for a few seconds it didn’t sound like anyone was moving toward you. You were still blocked from view. With a shaky breath, you slowly pulled the phone out. Unlocking it silently, you pressed on the messages app.

“Well, what’s this?”

Dread shot through you. The man had reappeared from the back, slinking quietly to your side somehow without you noticing. Your head shot up to look at him as he stood, barely 5 feet away from you staring down at your phone. The entire room's attention was now on you. You felt your blood freeze in your veins as the eyes above the mask narrowed into a glare. You didn’t even move to hide the phone, you didn’t move to do anything. You just sat there, staring dumbly back into his eyes. You heard the distant sounds of fear from the hostages and soft chuckles from the men.

The bag he had slung over his shoulder was tossed to the nearest member of his crew, the two that had followed him into the back of the back reappeared, took one look at the scene, one shaking his head before they both carried on out the door with the three bags.

A hand shot into your hair, grabbing it by the roots and pulling you to your feet. Your scalp burned, the pain was so sharp and sudden your eyes screwed shut and you lost Yoruba balance. Disoriented, you let out a shriek at the pain and if it weren’t for the grip on your head you would have fallen right back down. The phone was ripped from your hand. The man slid his hand from your hair to grasp the back of your neck firmly as he looked over the screen. When your eyes opened he was scrolling through the messages from half a moment before laughing a full and wicked laugh.

“Texting your boyfriend? How cute.” He all but cackled. He observed your face, your eyes hard and pricked with tears, and he giggled again. Shoving your phone into his pocket, he motioned to the others before pulling you towards the door. You stumbled over your legs multiple times, letting out cries and hisses as you went but doing little to resist.

The other hostages, let out distraught sobs but you blocked them out, their sympathy would do nothing for you now.

You were pulled out of the building at the same moment the sound of engines roared to life. In one quick glacé you saw that the street was still deserted.

Your back was slammed against the wall of the bank, just out of view of those inside and the barrel of the man's gun was trained on you. You shut your eyes tight.

You heard a bang. And the wailing cries of the hostages inside.

Then familiar lips crashed onto yours. It wasn’t really a kiss, more of a peck. The man's lips moved against yours for only a few seconds, so little you had no time to react before they were gone.

You opened your eyes. His mask was pulled back up, and he had taken a step back. His gun was already holstered at his side.

You didn’t have to see the bottom half of the man's face to know he was smirking. You pushed yourself off the wall and glared at him. At that moment two cars pulled out of the parking lot, one stopping directly in front of you. With a huff you pushed past the man who you could almost guarantee was still grinning.

Opening the door you slid into the backseat against the far window and crossed your arms over your chest. Seconds later the man got in and closed the door. And you were off.

“Come on your not actually mad are you,” he giggled, pulling down his mask.

“You damn near pulled my hair out Hongjoong! Of course, I’m mad!” You spat. You heard the two in the front seat chuckle.

“Oh don’t think you're off the hook Yunho. What the fuck was that? Since when was breaking my hand apart of the plan?” You hollered, kicking your foot against his seat. This only lead to more giggling. You resiliently stared forward, not looking at to boyfriend. He didn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. Hongjoong slid across the back seat to wrap an arm over your shoulder that even in your rage you didn’t have the heart to shake off.

“But it’s not like I was lying! You looked way too calm. If any of them had looked at you it would have been obvious something was up.” Yunho defended, gesturing with the hand, not on the steering wheel.

“Come on, darling. You know we have to make it believable. I can’t have my best spy get their cover blown because I’m too gentle with you.” The arm around your shoulder tightened, urging you to look at him. Finally, you turned to him, smiling at you so brightly you’d think you were on a friendly road trip.

“Besides, I thought you liked it when I pulled your hair?” Hongjoong said with a cheeky wink. At that Wooyoung howled with laughter from the front seat. You blushed crimson and promptly reached your foot over to kick his seat as well.

“Oh shut up. You were going overboard and you know it.” You grumbled with much less enthusiasm. Hongjoong smiles softly at your pout before leaning back in his seat, giving you a bit more space. Comfortable silence lasted only a few minutes as you drove on before Hongjoong spoke up again.

“Why did you pull your phone out anyway? That was dumb, even if you are on our side.” He asked, fingers rubbing circles comfortingly against your shoulder. You sighed.

“Because the rest of the boys fucked up.” You replied plainly, but still easing into your boyfriend's touch. Both Yunho and Wooyoung made offended noises from the front seat, but you carried on.

“The way they were positioned was wrong. There were blind spots, several actually. You’re just lucky I was the only person in one. I figured I should let you know in case it became a problem.” You continued.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong muttered. While he heard the sound of your voice, you doubted he was listening, as his hand instead taken to playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Isn’t the whole idea of having someone undercover on the inside, so they can tell us where the blind spots are?” Wooyoung asked from the front seat, still clearly offended at your statement.

“I told Yeosang, it’s not my fault you guys planned to take him in the safe this time instead of keeping him in the lobby like always.”You shot back. But even that was half-hearted. Your body really did ache after being hunched on the hard ground for 10 minutes without moving, and the comforting touch of your boyfriend's hands made you melt into the seat, all the tension and worrying about ways it could go wrong eased off your body in waves.

You all could talk about how it went and what needed to be tweaked next time later, right now you just wanted to rest. Hongjoong pulled you against his chest by your shoulder sensing your quick drop in energy.

Just as you were about to doze off a thought popped into your head.

“Hongjoong?”

You could feel the hum he gave in response against your cheek, telling you to continue.

“Are you sure you should have pretended to shoot me? I mean, best case scenario local police add murder onto our rap list. Worst, they find out you have a man on the inside. Either one is bad.” You murmur into his chest. Your group had never killed before as there had never been any need to, and it wasn’t something that any of you really wanted to do.

“That’s only a problem if they catch us.” He replied. Sounding, as always, perfectly certain of himself.

-

Living like this had its pros and cons, much like anything else. The main con being having to drive long ways away for jobs, just as a way to keep yourself safe. Which sometimes meant pulling over on the side of the road at any ditch or shitty motel for the night before getting back to your homes.

As your vehicles pulled into a run-down motel about a mile off the main highway, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had gone into the lobby parading as drunk college students on a road trip to rent the rooms for the night. Needless to say, it had been a long day, the other boys meandered to their rooms and probably fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows. But not you.

You had been patiently waiting on the hood of the car you arrived in, for the moment Hongjoong got back. And when he did reappear and the others disappeared, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to go lay down as quickly as they did.

As the crunch of their footsteps on gravel faded till they were indoors, you turned your head upwards to the sky. It was late at night and in the middle of nowhere like this, you could see millions more stars than in your home. Hongjoong kept his place, leaning on the car hood next to where you sat, looking up as well but not at the infinite sky like you. No, he was watching your face.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, looking up at the sky but you know your neck had begun to ache when Hongjoong finally pulled himself onto the hood of the car next to you. You naturally came to rest your head on his shoulder, still looking up at the stars, but now in your peripheral vision, you could still see Hongjoong studying your expression carefully.

“Something on your mind?” You ask in a quiet voice, still looking up. Hongjoong stirred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You tear your gaze from the stars to look at him. The moon cast a pearly light on his face that in your eyes made him glow.

“Sometimes I think I ruined you,” though his words were serious the giggle he gave at the end showed he had no real remorse. You still scoffed.

“I was a criminal long before I meet you Kim Hongjoong, don’t go thinking you

drastically changed the course of my life.” You reply in a dry tone, even if he was joking, it was still a point you wanted to drive home. He had no reason to be guilty with how you turned out, you were probably safer with him and the others than where you were before. He laughed at you again.

Hongjoong laughed at everything. And his laugh was one of the best things about him. Looking at him now, it gets harder and harder to imagine what your life would have been like without him.

“Babe, you were a petty thief, I turned you into a serial bank robber. I consider that pretty drastic.” He shot back, reaching up to pretend to fix your hair.

“If it wasn’t you, it would have been somebody else, and between us? I’m glad it was you.” Your words came out slightly more sentimental than you had anticipated and when Hongjoong fell silent next to you, you promptly blushed and turned back to the stars.

You and Hongjoong very rarely spoke about stuff like this. Even if neither of you would ever admit it, the truth of living life like this is that all it takes is one day, one mistake, for the family you created and the life you live to come crashing down around you. The span of a few minutes could be the difference between running off into the sunset and quite literally never seeing each other again. And after the slight hiccup, you had today that only you had noticed at first, that thought was at the forefront of your mind.

So basically you liked to live in the moment.

It was quiet for a few minutes, him watching you and you watching the sky. There was a very slight breeze in the air, but the summer air was made it more of a gentle cool wind than an uncomfortable chill.

“It’s getting late, you should go to sleep,” Hongjoong muttered. Quieter than his usual quip.

“I slept in the car.” You replied easily. Which was true, and while that nap had been anything but restful with the constant bumps in the road, he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh well, here I was trying to get you in bed but I guess you don’t want to.” He sighed, regaining some of the playfulness from earlier while running a teasing hand up your spine. It gave you shivers, but you had no desire to give in to him so easily.

“Who says we need a bed?” You ask matter of factly. Turning to give him the same wink he had laid on you earlier in the day. Jobs like the one you did today always put you on edge, no matter how many times you did it. Unlike the rest of them, it took you hours to fully relax and admit safety enough to let your guard down. You would never call Hongjoong carefree, but he did have a habit of trying to jump you the moment you were a safe distance away. Hongjoong leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Are you asking me to take you on the hood of this car? Because trust me, darling, I would.” Shivers his your spine once again, but you weren’t quite down bantering yet. You turned your head away from him to look at the beat-up old motel and the deserted parking lot you sat in. Motioning to it all you replied.

“Is this the most romantic place you could find?” You ask, each word oozing with how unimpressed you were by the scenery. At that Hongjoong placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at the millions of shining stars once again. You could feel his next words before they came.

“I don’t know, I think I did a pretty good job.”

It’s true, looking straight up and nowhere else gave the impression that you were sitting on the top of a mountain, the entire world below you and nothing but heaven above. Cheesy, but effective.

Hongjoong accurately assumed your silence meant he had won. Pushing you by your shoulder till your back hit the cool metal, your eyes stayed trained on the sky above. Your legs hung over the front of the car, pushed up only slightly till you lay with most of your body on the hood. Hongjoong’s moonlight face still hung in your peripheral, hanging over you slightly.

You stared straight into the sky as Hongjoong slung his body over yours, trapping your hips to the metal with his own.

“Please tell me you're not going to be super dramatic about this?” You as with your last dreg of defiance. He smirked at you.

“Babe, this is going to be the most dramatic moment of your life.”

And with that, Hongjoong leaned down over you, connecting your lips with a heated kiss. Your arms automatically slung around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath hitched almost immediately, feeling all strength leave your body as you melted into the kiss. Hongjoong took time to switch between a long slow-paced drag of his lips across yours, to nipping and sucking gently at your bottom lip as he pleased. The air no longer seemed like a necessity, when staying like this forever got more and more appealing.

Running his lips down to your jaw you almost rolled your eyes when you felt Hongjoong suck a rather impressively sized hickey right onto the underside of your jaw. It would perfectly match the fading ones that dotted your collar bones and the base of your neck, though the placement of this one would be much more visible.

Hongjoong’s hand took hold of your waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt and pushing it to bunch up over your chest, exposing you to the cool night air. He hadn’t removed it completely, but nonetheless he leaned back to admire. The ghost of a smirk wormed its way onto his lips as he ran his soft fingertips along the marks he gave you.

Staring at the ones lower on your stomach, trailing up your body with feather light touches. Your eyes screwed shut when he brushed over the ones on your breast. The bra you had been wearing today was nothing special, if not a little plain, but you could barely stand the heat of his gaze as it traveled up your body along with his hand.

Eventually, he reached the newest addition to the collection of purple splotches on your body. Cupping your cheek with his hand he urged your eyes open.

“I go through all this work to get you out under the stars and here you are with your eyes closed. That’s rude of you.” He stated with an exaggerated frown.

“It’s rude to tease,” you tried to sound as playful as him, but it came out as more of a whine. He giggled at you and carried on.

“I’m not teasing, I’m admiring. Now let me continue or you’ll get nothing.” He replies sternly. The mood suddenly shifting as the sparkle in his eye shifted to a darker hungrier look. You gulped slightly before letting your head fall back against the metal to stare up at the sky again. You felt Hongjoong’s mouth on your body again. His warm lips giving new life to some of the more faded marks on your chest. The cool air suddenly felt incredibly hot as your boyfriend's hands ran up and down your sides, occasionally stopping to squeeze whatever flesh he could grasp. Each time pulled another sound past your lips, although you did your best to muffle them.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” he remarked, barely pulling away, “I want to hear how pretty you sound too.”

It wasn’t spoken like a command, but you took it as one. Letting your mouth hang open in a moan when Hongjoong took one of your breasts in his palm, kneeling it slightly before pulling your bra down just enough to free it. He wasted no time in dragging his tongue over your nipple, then sweeping back down to suck a mark directly on the underside of your boob.

Your legs clenched together as he worked, the small amount of friction it gave in your shorts only served to drive you to more extremes when you rolled your hips against his. You groaned startlingly loud at that, the sensation of his hard dick pressing against your core even through the denim of both your pants pulled wetness from your core quicker than you would ever care to admit.

Hongjoong pulled away with a laugh, sitting up straight to look down at your already keening expression.

“Calm down baby, we have all night. No need to rush.” He chuckled at you. Despite his words, he took almost immediate action, running his hands up your bare thighs till his fingers hook on the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, but only just enough. Slipping his hand between your legs to cup your heat, while palming himself over his jeans. You whined again and clamped your legs around his hand, holding it in place. Despite your body’s subconscious efforts, he slid his finger over your cunt through your damp underwear.

Under any other circumstances, it would have been incredibly embarrassing how wet he made you from just touches to your body, but at the moment all you could think about was how desperately you wanted him to continue.

“Your soaking wet already, it feels like cheating with how quickly your body reacts to me.” He mutters, pressing two fingers against your hole, with nothing but a thin scrap of fabric keeping them from pushing inside you.

“Hongjoong, please fuck me. I’m begging you.” You groan, rolling your hips against his hand repeatedly. He broke out in a wide smile.

“I like the sound of you begging. Do it again for me.” He commands, voice laced with honey. You took a shuddering breath, turning your eyes to meet his with a pleading look.

“Please, I need you to fuck me.” You beg with all the desperation you have.

“Oh course baby, all you had to do was ask.” He lilts, tilting his head to the side with a sickly sweet smile.

Hongjoong pulled his hand from your core, which left an unhappy feeling in your stomach. But he used said hand to assist in pulling his dick free of his pants which spurred your legs even further apart. Your hands had been hanging uselessly at your side since this all began but as he leaned over your body once again, staring straight down into your wanton face, your hands flung themselves behind his shoulder to hang off of him.

Hongjoong pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, running it through your folds twice, watching as your face shifted from bliss to desperation each time he almost slipped in. And of course, he laughed. But that was the last bit of torture he gave you before sinking into your cunt.

Your synchronized groans sounded throughout the empty parking lot when he finally filled you to the hilt. And with his own patients starting to run as thin as yours he wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting again.

Your back arched more each time he pushed into you, feeling him stretching your walls and brush against the most sensitive spots inside you made your toes curl. And as he began to build pace his deep pants and groans rang in your ears.

He was doing anything but going fast. Long hard and deep thrusts shook your body in a steady rhythm. Your nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt and your mouth hung open as he fucked into you.

“Come on baby, you're not that far gone already are you?” His voice carried a teasing tone, but his own breath had gone shaky. You both stared into each other’s faces, watching each other’s expressions shift with bliss at every thrust. You were moaning and whining freely now. Words have failed you.

You felt the muscles on Hongjoong’s shoulder strain beneath your fingers, and with your orgasm fast approaching your nails practically clawed down his back. Hongjoong hissed above you, but the action did nothing but spur him on.

“Your gonna cum baby? Gonna cum already on my cock? How desperate you must be, to let a criminal have his way with you like this.” He growled the words down at you. His words shot to your core, making you clench around him, with a whine you forced words past your lips.

“I don’t care, just want you.” The words were barely a whisper. But the effect was the same. With a ringing cry, you came undone underneath him. You shook and threw your head back, staring directly into the stars above you. Your body moved of its own accord, but that was all beyond you. The only thing you could think about was the look on Hongjoong’s stunning face as he came hovering above you.

You both basked in the feeling of waves of pleasure rolling over your bodies. Continuing to grind against each other subconsciously as you rode it out.

The cool air returned with a nip. Hongjoong had all but collapsed above you. As you came back to reality the cold metal of the car suddenly felt so comfortable you could fall asleep right there. You felt your eyes being to drift shut.

“Oh no baby, I’m taking you to bed for real this time.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling himself up to look down at you again. He gave a small smile at your pout.

“Your pretty cute for a dangerous criminal.”

You gathered up the last of your strength to hit him on the shoulder.

-

and this my friends is why I dont make a habit of writing longer things, they just get away from me.

I meant for this to be a short hot sexy lil thing and it turned into this long ass sappy thing

[dragon-of-dreams]

A Debt to pay

My Masterlist

Pairing: dark!mafia!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: noncon; breading kink; threats, murder, readers parents are dead, reader getting hit across the face, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Seariously, this is some really dark shit with some astonishingly soft sx... No idea how that happened... 18+!!!

No mentions of y/n, and reader is kinda an off because she has a back-story but no physical descriptors are used.

Summary: Your dad dies unexpectedly and you take over running the family cafè. The costs for your daddy’s funeral bring the head of the Barnes family to your doorstep as you struggle to keep up with the payments for a loan you had no idea your dad had taken out with them. You get “offered” an alternative method of payment.

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @oneoftheprettynerds

I hope I did it justice! Thank you for being the most patient person in the world, when Covid, life, exams, life and so on and so forth got in the way of your wish!

Prompt: Can I please get a dark mafia bucky or peter with noncon and breeding kink? With a side of people hitting on reader

 Wordcount: 2,800

 In all seriousness, you had to consider yourself lucky. Most people in this small city had it worse than you. Most didn’t have their own business, certainly not at your age, and most would never have enough money to even dream about that. Your town had the habit of sucking money out of people faster than they could make it and as of late that was also the case for you.

           After your dad had died unexpectedly in a car crash, money had been tight, really tight. You’d never known how fucking expensive funerals were and his drained all the savings you had, just before you’d managed to scrambled together enough for a community college education in business. Now you were left an orphan in your early twenties running a café on only the knowledge you’d learnt from your dad with no prospects of an education. Now you were as stuck as everybody else in town.

           What made matters even worse was the bill you’d gotten two weeks after the funeral. A bill from the one company in town nobody wanted one from. Rich men running successful businesses on the backs of the honest town’s people by draining their money. The mafia. Sharks in suits.

           According to the bill your dad had borrowed money from them 10 years ago. Your best guess was that he had needed it for your mother’s funeral and had never told you. Be that how it may, you didn’t know how to pay that bill. So you asked for time and put in extra hours, keeping the café open til late at night.

           You hated the extra hours. Not only because you got less sleep and had to work so much more and couldn’t afford to hire more employees but also because the later it got the more aggressively people hit on you.

           You hated them. All those men coming in once the sun set, calling you their sweetheart like you were property and grabbing at you and you having to smile and flirt because you needed their tips. Desperately. And yet it seemed to make no difference. There was just no money to be made in this town.

           Bucky Barnes, the head of the Romanov family had given you two months to come up with the next payment, and you knew that you’d end up dead in a ditch with them ceasing your café if you didn’t make it.

           So you smiled and joked with the moms coming in in the mornings and afternoons and flirted and swayed for their husbands at night. When you were in your little apartment above the café after you finally closed you usually cried yourself to sleep. And all throughout the day you would see him. See Bucky fucking Barnes watching you. At first you thought you were imagining it, but he was driving past your café in way too regular intevals, and would even occasionally take up one of your tables. You always sent other staff to serve him, you couldn’t bare to go to him, but his cold blue eyes never left you.

           Over those two month it became abundantly clear that you would never manage to come up with $2,000. And when one of Bucky’s men came in on the Wednesday before the Friday the payment was due, you thought of the 1,200 bucks you’d managed and wanted to cry.

           You knew the man, you’d gone to school with his younger brother Peter who had been a royal pain in your ass, having provided a glimpse of the harassment by the men you now faced every evening. Still you smiled at him: “Steve, hi, what can I get you?” ignoring that you had already flipped your sign to closed and where moping the floors.

           “Hi y/n, a coffee would be great, if you still got some” Steve answered while inspecting your café like he already owned the place.

           “Sure thing!” You tried to sound chipper, but the strain in you voice was audible, as you went behind the counter and got the machine going.

“Sugar? Milk?” you asked, with your back turned to Steve, hoping to draw out the inevitable.

“Just sugar, thanks.” Steve sounded gruff and distant and you knew you’d lost. He probably already knew that you wouldn’t be able to pay. He had accompanied Bucky a bunch of times, never ordered anything, just watched and listened, as Bucky drank or ate. The men had attracted stares. Not only because they were mafia, but because for personified devils, they sure looked like gods.

As you set his coffee before him he asked: “So what can I tell my boss to expect on Friday?” You stared at Steve in his perfectly tailored suit in harsh contrast to the homey but ultimately grimy café surrounding him as you decided on what to say. He looked amazing, and you hated him for it.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. He was getting impatient. “I… I have a little over half.” You muttered and looked down at your hands, twisted tightly together. “My daddy’s funeral cost so much money, and I” you were interrupted by Steve’s fist hitting the countertop, making you flinch. His rage was pouring out of him so suddenly, taking over everything else. He seethed: “Safe your excuses, little girl. Just make sure to get the money. Bucky isn’t as lenient as I am.” With that, Steve got up from the bar, drained his coffee in one long gulp and left without giving you the chance to beg. You would have. You would do anything now if it meant saving your life. ‘Lenient’, you thought. How was any of this lenient?

           On Friday morning, you didn’t want to get up, much less open the café, but you did both. You put a notice outside that you would close earlier tonight, so Barnes and his henchmen wouldn’t scare off your customers and then you went to work.

           The entire day felt like molasses. Time didn’t move at all, it left you fidgety and nervous. You screwed up more orders than you were willing to admit and then suddenly time jumped and it was 6 p.m. and the sun was setting and you’d closed the café down, pulled all curtains closed except for the front door and were sitting there, waiting. What for, you didn’t know.

           At 6:30 a black limousine came to a stop before your café and Barnes and Peter got out. Which you decided was a good sign. Surley if they were to kill you, they would’ve brought some muscle, not lanky Peter… Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get his hands dirty with you, would he? Or was that what Peter was for? Did he still have to prove himself in the company?

           As Bucky entered you wished it would just end now. To your sheer horror, Peter stayed outside, blocking the door, leaving you all alone with the man you feared most in this world. He looked just like everytime he’d previously entered your café. His suit fit perfectly and you could see the muscle beneath. He was astonishingly beautiful. If he only were so on the inside as well, you mused.

“Hi sweetheart,” Bucky drawled as he approached you, “Steve told me you don’t have my money.” You shrunk in on yourself, but nodded, as Bucky came to tower over you.

“That’s not good, angel, not at all. Why don’t you come out from behind the counter and we sit down and talk about it, huh?”

All you could do was nod. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Bucky teased as he grabbed you by the elbow and led you to a boot in the corner of the café, way out of view from the front door. His touch was startingly kind. You had prepared for pain, but were met with kind support. Your brow furrowed.

“I…” You looked up at him. “I g got $1,300. I know that’s not enough, but”

“Shh.” Bucky murmured and pushed you down onto the bench, took of his suit jacket, hung it carefully over a nearby chair and then caged you in by sitting at your side. You were trapped and you were shaking with fear.

Bucky was so much taller than you and even through his perfectly tailored black dressshirt you could see his muscles bulging. You couldn’t decide weather you wanted to start sobbing into his chest or punch him in the stomach. “Steve already told me all about that, angel, don’t worry, I already came up with a new payment plan.”

“You’re not mad?” you question, to terrified to be hopeful.

“Well, I am not thrilled, but I’ve always had a softspot for this place. My pa used to take me when I was little. I watched you grow up, you know?”

Hope bloomed like desert rose in your heart. He knew you! He had a connection to you! That surely meant he wouldn’t kill you. You’d figure out the money. Suddenly you were certain that you could do it.

“really? That’s – I never knew…” Your voice was fluttering with hope.

“Well, it’s a small town.” Bucky’s voice was calm and soothing. You almost forgot that you were squished between him and the wall.

“And with me seeing you grow up, and seeing all the other women in town I decided that you would give me an heir to take here. To watch people with, so he too could choose his wife. An heir for me and forgiveness for your debt and a happy home life for you.” Your world stopped spinning. It screeched to a halt.

“What? No, Bucky, I…” Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you close. The arm was tight across you back and stole your words from you as fear spread from every spot he touched throughout your entire body.

“You’re a hard worker, you have a drive for better and higher things. I like that. It’ll make you a diligant mother, you know angel? And that is what I need. A good mother to the boy who will inherit this town, don’t you agree?”

You sit there frozen, unable to reply. Your brain is going a thousand miles an hour trying to find a way, any way, to get away, but before you can do anything Bucky grabs your right hand and presses it to his crotch. He’s hard. The calm demeanour falls off him suddenly as he growls: “Here is how this will go, angel,” he starts to move your hand up and down his crotch, “I will let go of your hand and you will undo my pants and get me ready and then I will have that little pussy of yours on this table. I mean it ain’t romantic, but once you are my little wife I’ll make up for that, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, press your eyes closed and feel him move his hand over the fine cotton of his suit and his hard length underneath, then you force yourself to nod. It’s a jerking, hurtful motion, but Bucky released you hand, as he leans back on the bench, spreading his legs, opening himself up to you.

You want to thrash out, but instead you shaking hands wander to his belt. “Go on, now. we ain’t got all night, darling.” You are tearing up, but do as you’re told. You lean slightly over him and undo his belt first, then his pants. His cock strains against his boxer briefs and you gulp. Bucky lifts his hips and you push his pants and underwear down.

His cock is beautiful. Long and thick and veined and you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight. Bucky notices and smirks down at you. “Now that’s a good girl. Keep it up and I make sure you enjoy yourself!” he whispers in your ear as he guides your hands to his dick.

As you jerk him, you realize that you underestimated his size. Your fucked. Literally. There is no way you’re gonna enjoy this. Bucky shoves his left hand up your skirt suddenly and you freeze until he clears his throat and startles you back into action, while his fingers start exloring your sex.

“You know,” Bucky explains, “I find it helps ladies to go down on a guy before actually fucking. Gets them nice and ready, you know?” One of his fingers slides into your tight chanel, “But with you it seems we don’t need that. The sight of my cock alone made you cream. I knew there was something special about you!” He grins and removes his hand. “We might still have to work on your handjob skills though…” he muses, grips your hand and removes it form his dick, as he gets up.

You shrink back but he pulls you out after him. Finally, blessedly, your panic response sets in any you try to struggle, but Bucky’s hold on your arm tightens painfully and his left hand hits you across the face before you even see it coming and it makes your world spin. “Stop it, now!” Bucky barks at you and you freeze. Your feeble attempts forgotten as Bucky lifts you onto the table and rips your panties off. You start sobbing as he bends your right leg to your shoulder and situates himself.

“Sssh,” he cooes at you softly, “I’ll make it better, baby, just one moment.” His suddenly warm voice lulls you into a false sense of security as you stare into his deep blue eyes. They are bewitching you, and you only feel him push in when it’s too late.

He sheethes himself in one agonizingly long stroke. The pain breaks you out of your reverie, you arch your back and groan. It hurts! It hurts so much, and yet you want more, so much more. “Bucky!” you plead, you sob, you whine and once more there it is, the calm voice of the devil now owning your life, rolling in like the tide washing over you, calming you. “I know my sweet pet, I know, just relax now. Just breathe.” And you do. You can’t help yourself.

Bucky lets out a pained moan as you settle around him, and once your clenched eyes flutter back open, once your back comes back down from its painful arch, the god above you starts to move. Every drag and push is better than the last. He hits home every time. His dick lights up a pathway to your pleasure, with every sharp, hard, relentlessy painful thrust, in time with his pubic hair grinding against your clit. A particularly hard thrust shifts his cock so it hits your cervix and you scream with pain and pleasure. Your arms reach up, your hands burying themselves in his thick hair as Bucky leans in closer to you, bending you in half on that table, and nuzzles at your neck as he starts to hammer into you. Every thrust is pure bliss. You want to feel ashamed, you want to push him away, but all you can feel is the drag and glide of his cock, his pelvis against your clit, his tip hitting your cervix. You are on fire and the coil in your core is ready to explode. The intensity of Bucky’s thrusts never wavers, even as you feel him swell even further as his balls draw up and that tiny change breaks you, your orgasm explodes and you cry out in ecstatic pleasure, just as Bucky falters and shoots his cum in thick long strokes into you. His warmth joing yours as he lazily pumps to stop within you.

You only come back to yourself as Bucky pulls out slowly and you can feel your combined, cooling spend trickle down your legs. He eases your leg back down and kisses you softly as you start crying. “Ssh, darling, you’re alright. You’re done. Your debt is paid and you’ll be my wife in no time, the mother to my heir. You did so good, angel!” He coos sweet nothing at you until you can control your crying enough to speak.

“Bucky, I’m not on anything! What if it really takes?” you whimper, emerging from the fantasy he built up in your head.

“That is rather the point!” He snaps harshly. The calm voice gone as quickly as it emerged. You shiver as you realize the extent of what he said before. He really meant it all… Bucky pulls up his pants. “Pack up your things, lovely, tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you are moving in with me, so I can keep an eye on you!” With that Bucky pulls on his suit jacket and heads for the door, as you struggle to sit up, shaking and crying.

At the door Bucky looks back at you, his voice a lot calmer again: “I’m real happy about our new business arrangement as it ensures you will be staying with me, little girl. If only your daddy would have agreed to let me have you, his car wouldn’t have had to end up wrapped around a tree so your little college fund would go away. Sleep tight now, Mama, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[anonymousfiction211]

Give it time: ch4

Click here for chapter 1 Click here for chapter 2 Click here for chapter 3

A/N: It took a while, but here is the continuation of Give it time. For the people who requested it, don’t worry. This is not the last chapter! I think about writing one, maybe two more. This one is written from Thor’s point of view. Hope you like it!

Brother ‘Loki? What are you doing in Asgard?’ Thor asked surprised when he saw his younger brother walking through the hall.

‘It’s my home, so what do you think?’ Loki answered clearly irritated. Before Thor could answer he walked past. Thor had learned to let Loki be when he was in one of his moods, and went in search of his mother. He found her in the garden.

After he had greeted his mother properly he asked ‘What is wrong with Loki?’

Her smiled turned sad. ‘I only know that he and (Y/N) had a fight. Apparently she has gotten back together with her ex-boyfriend Steve? He was a bit cryptic and didn’t feel like talking about it. All I know that he is been in a foul mood, berating the staff, annoying your father and recently he started to drink and attend party’s… trying to find his happiness elsewhere’

‘What do you mean broke up? (Y/N) truly loved him, I didn’t even know she and Steve were together once’

‘This is all I know, he barely sleeps, is angry all the time, and I’m afraid he is planning something. I think it is best you go talk to him’ Frigga told him.

Thor hummed in agreement, and went to search for Loki. A task proven to be extremely difficult if his younger brother didn’t want to be found. It took him half the afternoon, but he finally found Loki sulking in his own private library.

‘Brother, what happened?’ Thor asked.

‘Go away, Thor. I’m not in the mood for you or the volume of your voice’ Loki snarled.

‘Tell me what happened, you’re miserable that is plain to see. Maybe I can help?’ Thor asked, ignoring his brother’s bad temper.

‘Thanks for the compliment, and no you can’t help me. Nobody can’ Loki answered.

‘Loki, just tell me’ Thor sighed. ‘If you do, I will leave you alone’ he added.

This got the attention of Loki. ‘Fine’ he said. And Loki explained his version of events. The past between Steven and (Y/N). How Steve has been setting (Y/N) up against him, how she is too naïve, how Steve practically admitted that he wanted her and how he walked in on them kissing each other. Thor listened to every word and kept his thoughts and questions to himself, letting Loki finish uninterrupted. After the story came to an end, he had to find the right words. Words and meanings were everything to Loki and he couldn’t mess this up. Not when Loki finally let him in.

When the silence endured Loki spoke first ‘You may take your leave now’ he grabbed one of his books and opened it halfway through.

‘What did (Y/N) say about all this?’ Thor asked, he wondered since he hadn’t heard anything about it.

‘We did not talk, I just left’ Loki said through gritted teeth.

‘And you haven’t had any contact with her since then?’ Thor asked.

‘No, weren’t you listening?’

‘Then how do you know if your version is true?’ he asked.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Loki asked.

‘If everything you say is true, then how do you know that she’s with Steve? That she loves him? I know her, and she was crazy about you. I just can’t believe that she would do this…’

‘I saw it’

Thor just chuckled a little ‘If there are two things I learned from growing up with you: one, pay very close attention to what you are actually saying and two, nothing is what is seems’

Loki smirked a little ‘That is because I’m a skilful sorcerer and the God of Lies’ then his smile faltered ‘It doesn’t matter anymore, this was all some time ago. By now she surely is with Steve, and I wish them a very unhappy life together’ he said while his attention shifted back to his book.

‘And what are you planning?’ Thor asked, remembering the words of his mother.

‘I may have thought about ways to kill Steve, but I’m not anymore. I’m just attending a party tonight. So, you can tell mother she’s worries for nothing’

‘It’s not like you to drink and attend parties. You always hated them’ Thor said a bit surprised.

‘Well yeah, but where else meet a girl for a night?’ Loki smirked.

‘Or you could come with me’ Thor said.

‘To where?’

‘Back to Midgard, to the Avengers. You can clear things up with (Y/N), because I’m not buying this story to be true. Plus, your still part of the team and can’t just leave whenever you feel like it’ Thor said.

‘No thanks’ Loki said.

‘Loki, you look like crap and knowing you, you probably feel worse. So, coming back can only improve your mood. If not, I promise I will let you attend ever party in Asgard and you can drink and fuck your problems away. But you will hate yourself if you didn’t at least hear her out’ Thor said angrily.

It took Loki aback a bit. He pondered over the question. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he then asked.

This took Thor aback. ‘Because you’re my brother and I want you to be happy’ he answered.

Loki clearly was struggling with not letting the emotion show on his face, Thor let him get away with it, it was what Loki needed at the moment.

‘But you don’t believe me?’ Loki asked after a while.

‘I do believe you, I just think there is more to the story. If it is the whole story we leave immediately, I promise’ Thor said.

‘Together?’ Loki asked.

‘Together, I got your back’ Thor confirmed. He got up and walked towards the exit of the library. He would have to prepare the journey to Midgard. He looked back when he heard Loki say ‘Thor… thanks brother’. Thor just smiled and nodded, but in his heart there was nothing but love for his little brother. Who, despite the way he could lash out, he loved very dearly and he knew that Loki cared about him, even if he didn’t always show it.

Back on Midgard The Bifrost opened and Thor and Loki stood in front of the familiar compound. Thor noticed that Loki used magic to make himself appear more together, but didn’t comment on it. The two of them walked in the tower. That’s when they heard Tony.

‘Thank God, latterly, that the two of you are finally here!’ he exclaimed.

‘Why, what’s wrong?’ Thor asked.

‘What’s wrong? (Y/N) is an absolute mess, she barely eats and doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I can’t believe you did that to her’ he looked accusingly at Loki.

‘I didn’t do anything, she was the one that kissed Steve’ Loki angrily replied.

‘Huh, what? You were the one that cheated on her. She broke when she found out about it’ Tony said.

Thor was confused. Yes, in the past Loki has betrayed the one’s he loved many times. But he always had a good reason, it was not like him to betray the woman he loved for a bit of fun.

‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’ Loki snarled.

Tony grabbed his phone and showed them the video that Steve had showed him. It was Loki at some party in the compound, drinking and kissing with some other woman Thor didn’t recognize. Loki looked intently at the video. ‘That’s not me! How did you even get that?’ Loki asked.

‘Steve showed it to us’ Tony replied. While Loki was ranting on about Steve he and Tony started to discuss the realness of the video. Thor sneaked away and went in search of (Y/N). He knocked on her door, but there was no answer.

‘(Y/N), I’m coming in’ he said, hoping she was okay. He opened her room, which was still dark. (Y/N) lay under the covers, the air in the room didn’t smell fresh, and around her bed there were several empty bottles of wine.

‘(Y/N)?’ Thor asked. She suddenly turned around and faced him. She sat up straight. Thor could tell she had lost weight, probably from not eating. There were bags and dark circles under her eyes and her hair was greasy.

‘Leave’ she said angrily and Thor saw a hint of the fire that Loki used to love about her.

‘No, I think…’ but he was cut of by (Y/N) throwing an empty wine bottle towards him. It missed his head and broke against the wall, glass flying around the room. ‘LEAVE’ she half-yelled again.

‘I will leave when you talked to me, and I talked to you’ Thor said sternly. He looked her in her eyes, they seemed to be in some sort of staring contest. He could tell she was tired.

She sighed ‘Fine, but I don’t wan to hear a thing about your brother’ tears were already forming in her eyes.

‘Just tell me your version of events, and if it makes sense I promise that I will take Loki back to Asgard with me’ Thor said. Her eyes widened when she heard that Loki was here. For a moment she felt relieved, and wanted nothing more than to run towards him. Hoping he would wrap his arms around her and spin her around. But then she remembered the video Steve showed her about a month after Loki left. He tried to help her get over him, but it only made things worse.

When (Y/N) started to tell he story, Thor discovered that they didn’t add up, just as he expected. He couldn’t help but get angry at Steve for orchestrating this whole thing. He got so angry that a storm was brooding over the compound, something that hadn’t happen in a few hundred years. But now, he couldn’t control himself. He saw (Y/N) flinch when she heard the rumbling sound of thunder, but couldn’t help himself. She had finished her story and Thor was hallway through to explaining Loki’s version of it, when the door burst open.

Tony came running towards (Y/N) yelling ‘It’s deepfake, it’s deepfake!’ he was panting and couldn’t say anything more. That’s when he saw that  (Y/N)’s eyes just notice done presence that was looming in the doorway, Loki.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite​ @justacripple​

People who definitely needed the story to continue/commented on the other chapter (hope you don’t mind me tagging you!): @onlyforloki @not-your-bitch @lovelokiqueen @unicorns105 @phenelopejoy @elliemustdraw @lokiestorch

[heavyy12]

Colin and Tripp: Part 2

“I just hope this whole thing doesn’t implode on us.” Colin said as he folded some jeans and placed them in a suitcase. “This is going to come as a HUGE surprise to them.”

“You’re not kidding, babe.” Tripp said as he closed his laptop from atop their bed. “HUGE, indeed.”

Tripp got up and walked behind Colin to rub the belly that contained his unborn sons. Tripp had never been so turned on by another person than Colin in all his pregnant glory. Colin had ballooned over the past couple weeks and easily resembled a man nearing full-term. At 29 weeks, Colin had managed to pack on forty pounds, all of which seemed to go to his belly.

He was so perfectly round and miraculously had very little stretch marks. His ass had become far more plump and his pecs were noticeably fuller as they sat atop his protruding midsection.

Tripp swatted the clothing from Colin’s hands and lifted his pregnant lover’s shirt over his head.

“Really, babe?” Colin smirked, “I have to get this packing done! We leave in the morning.”

“I won’t be long.” Tripp whispered as he kissed Colin’s neck and lowered the pregnant man’s briefs to expose Colin’s plump cheeks from beneath.

“I want a piece of that pregnant ass,” Tripp continued as he slid his erection between Colin’s bare cheeks.

“Well, by all means, daddy, have at it.” Colin cooed.

Colin was on his back within seconds, belly high in the air and his thick thighs hugging the sides of his growing orb as Tripp positioned himself to begin fucking his pregnant lover.

Tripp couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off Colin’s belly as they fucked. The father-to-be was constantly looking for signs of his unborn sons through his baby mama’s massive orb. Colin knew what Tripp was looking for and when he’d feel a kick from within as Tripp’s cock was impaling him, he’d guide his baby daddy’s hand to that location on his belly. The pair couldn’t get enough of pregnant sex.

Colin decided to tell his parents of his pregnancy before the dinner Tripp had planned. There was obviously no hiding his condition, so it was an abrupt conversation. After a few minutes and the question of paternity came up, Colin said it was someone they knew. Their most shocking revelation of Colin’s pregnancy was that Tripp was the father and they were in a relationship.

His father pressed Colin to be honest whether Tripp took advantage of him and the pregnant college student assured him that wasn’t the case. Mrs. Lacey was able to calm her husband down and Colin explained the dinner he had planned was actually at Tripp’s home down the street.

The dinner started off awkwardly, but by the end, everyone seemed comfortable with Tripp and Colin’s situation. The pair said goodbye to their dinner guests and after the caterers left, they retreated to the backyard for a bonfire.

It was a cold, late-fall night and Tripp donned a baggy Cornell sweatshirt, chinos, and boat shoes, while his pregnant lover lowered himself into an Adirondack chair wearing a similar outfit. Tripp had a beer in his hand as they discussed what they believed was a successful dinner with Colin’s family.

As the fire grew, Colin became overheated and removed his sweatshirt, revealing the underside of his massive belly in a tight, white tee. Tripp noticed while Colin hadn’t yet and started snapping pictures of his pregnant lover in the firelight.

“What are you doing babe?” Colin asked as the flash from Tripp’s phone nearly blinded him.

“You just look so beautiful sitting by the fire and so full with our children.” He replied.

“Well, I feel like a hot, sweaty blimp.” Colin said as he lifted his tee for air circulation.

“We can go inside. It’s been a long day.” Tripp said as be began getting up.

“No, no, a couple more minutes.” Colin insisted, “I’m going to need help getting up from this damn chair anyways.”

Tripp was already up and moved over to his pregnant lover, ran his hands through Colin’s hair and bent down for a kiss on his forehead. While his older boyfriend kissed his forehead, Colin felt an unpleasant jab coming from within and moaned as his hand immediately went to assess the action.

“Are the boys giving you trouble?” Tripp asked as he noticed Colin’s expression and joined his pregnant lover in examining the situation.

“I think they’re a little overheated from the fire.”

“No worries, babe, it was nice while it lasted.” Tripp said as he began extinguishing the fire. “How about a nice, relaxing bath before bed?” he suggested to his pregnant lover.

“I’d love that.” Colin answered as he covered his belly back up and reached his hands out signaling Tripp to help hoist him from the chair.

Colin and Tripp returned to Ithaca after a couple days so Colin could finish out the semester before winter break. With a February due date and Colin already a semester ahead from college-placement classes in high school, they decided he’d take the spring semester off to have their sons.

Colin’s family had plans to spend Christmas and New Years apart in different places around the world. It left Colin and Tripp on their own; which they preferred.

Tripp planned a vacation getaway, the last as a childless couple, to the Caribbean. Colin was cleared to fly at 33 weeks, although he easily resembled someone who was overdue. For convenience, Tripp chartered a jet for their two-week vacation.

When they arrived in the Caribbean, Colin was excited to see that Tripp reserved a penthouse apartment with a butler for their duration. Their balcony had amazing views of the ocean and surrounding islands, as well as their own rooftop pool.

It wasn’t long into their first day that Colin stripped naked and lowered himself into the refreshing rooftop pool. After Tripp finished unpacking and pre-ordering dinner, he was surprised to find Colin already soaking up the Caribbean sun in all his naked, pregnant glory.

“Damn babe, we’ve only been here for an hour and you’re already getting me worked up with that view.” Tripp exclaimed as he removed his cutoff shirt and stood over Colin from the pool’s ledge in a speedo.

“Being cooped up on the flight and drive here was too much for these two!” Colin said as he stood up in the shallow end of the pool, his belly exposed above his recently popped navel and dripping wet. “I didn’t know how else to calm them down!”

“Well you know they get tired after a good fuck, sooo…” Tripp suggested as he removed his speedo, exposing his hard eight inches.

Tripp entered the pool and the pair began making out as both their erections grew. Tripp’s poked his pregnant lover’s lower belly and Colin’s poked his underbelly with nowhere else to go.

Tripp hoisted Colin, with the pregnant man’s assistance, onto the pool ledge. They continued making out with Tripp’s hands firmly planted on the sides of Colin’s massive orb and Colin’s on his baby daddy’s plump ass cheeks.

Colin’s erection was covered by his immense midsection and was getting uncomfortable as his own heaviness weighed down on it. He laid back with Tripp’s help and positioned his legs atop his baby daddy’s shoulders. Tripp slowly inserted himself into Colin’s hole from inside the pool.

The pool’s slate tile wasn’t the most comfortable on Colin’s back as his belly weighed him down, but he easily worked through the pain because of the ecstasy from being impaled by Tripp’s thick cock.

Tripp grabbed handfuls of Colin’s fuller pecs and picked up speed. Colin played with Tripp’s nipples as they both neared climax. As Tripp slowed to deposit a warm load within his pregnant lover’s hole, his right hand caressed Colin’s cock and the pregnant man soon blew his load between his protruding belly and Tripp’s lower abs.

“What a way to start the vacation!” Tripp exclaimed as he pull out.

“I’d say! The three of us enjoyed that, daddy!” Colin said as he cradled his belly in their afterglow.

Tripp kissed the mound that held his unborn sons sensually before pulling Colin up to a seated position. The pregnant man then lowered himself into the pool where the pair relaxed for the next half hour as their bodies cleansed of sweat of cum.

Islanders at their resort were astounded by Colin’s size every time the two men decided to leave their penthouse suite. Although they had a capable butler, every time they’d walk to the beach, two or more additional staff would offer their assistance. They both spent their days on the beach where Colin resembled a tanned, beach whale, before retreating upstairs to prepare for an exquisite dinner.

Tripp made sure to always have snacks and lunch ordered for their time on the beach so Colin and his boys wouldn’t go hungry. The expectant fathers always made sure to accentuate Colin’s pregnancy, as if it wasn’t already truly astounding.

When they’d have lunch delivered to the beach, before the waiter had time to leave, Tripp already had one hand caressing Colin’s belly and the other feeding his pregnant lover. They didn’t care how awkward it made anyone else feel. Nobody at the resort had seen a pregnant man of Colin’s size before and could rarely take their eyes off his belly. It also didn’t help that Colin wore speedos that barely fit his plump ass cheeks and when seated and being served on the beach, eluded to being nude since his belly covered every inch of fabric he had on.

On the last day of their vacation, Tripp hired a photographer for the day to capture Colin in all his pregnant glory. The pregnant twenty-one year old was nearing his 35[sup]th[/sup] week and had gained 70 pounds, ballooning to 285. His tanned, stretched skin was nearly 60” around. Tripp often wondered how big his pregnant beau would get at this rate.

They took intimate pictures in the morning on their bed while both wore just briefs. The focus of both men was Colin’s belly. After nearly two weeks in the sun, his tanned, olive skin covered any faint stretch marks he had. His belly button almost looked cartoonish and stuck out far from his massive middle. His fuller pecs were accentuated by enlarged nipples that Tripp often sucked on.

Tripp stood behind the photographer for Colin’s solo photo shoot in bed. He couldn’t contain the erection that was forming as he watched Colin cradle their unborn sons and pose so sensually; nearly nude in the bed they fucked in the night before. They both changed into 5” inseam shorts and linen, short-sleeve button downs and headed to the beach for more pictures.

While Tripp’s shirt stayed mostly buttoned, Colin’s was opened almost instantly to show his massive baby bump. Tripp’s favorite pose during Colin’s solo beach shoot was when his pregnant lover sat in the sand, folded and tucked his right leg under his lifted left leg, leaned back into the sand with his right arm and rested his left forearm on his raised left knee. Until then, Colin hadn’t looked so massive to Tripp. The sun beat down on him as sweat glistened on his chest and belly. Tripp popped another boner thinking Colin still had over a month left of growing.

After their final dinner on the island, the pair decided to take a midnight stroll on the beach. Both men had plotted fucking in the sand and were hoping to do so that night.

They came to a curve in the beach that had a grouping of palm trees hidden from the resort’s view. They smirked at each other and Tripp guided Colin to the middle of the palm trees and ripped off his pregnant lover’s clothing. They made out with Colin in all his naked glory and the moonlight reflecting off his ballooned belly. Tripp quickly surveyed the area once more before pulling his shorts down.

Tripp was leaking pre-cum on his pregnant lover’s belly before turning Colin around to expose the pregnant man’s inviting hole. Colin bent slightly and grabbed ahold of a palm tree as Tripp’s warm mouth met his hole. After a minute or two, Tripp’s tongue was replaced by his dick and the two began fucking wildly. Colin’s fat ass cheeks were clapping uncontrollably as he moaned from being fucked so hard. His tits were bouncing violently atop his perfectly round baby belly. Tripp had his hands planted on the sides of Colin’s belly as he thrust harder and harder into his pregnant lover’s hole.

Tripp normally lasted much longer but felt himself getting close after only a few minutes. He moved his hands up Colin’s blossoming body and grabbed a handful each of Colin’s pecs and pulled his pregnant lover back, plush against his body. Tripp slowed and kissed Colin’s neck and bit his ear as he flooded the pregnant man’s hole with another huge load of warm baby batter.

They stayed in that position for another minute, making out madly as Tripp’s hands caressed Colin’s belly and his cock grew limp from inside the pregnant man’s hole. Tripp pulled out, turned Colin around to lean against the palm tree and consumed the pregnant man’s cock before swallowing the load the shot from it.

“That was so fucking hot, babe.” Tripp said as he lifted himself up to Colin’s eye level. Colin noticed his own cum was still left on the sides of Tripp’s mouth and wiped his baby daddy’s face with two fingers before shoving both and his bodily remnants into Tripp’s accepting mouth. They kissed and hurriedly put their clothing back on before retreating to their suite.

The pair returned to the states with a little over one month left in Colin’s pregnancy. Since Colin was taking a semester off to have the twins, they moved everything back to Tripp’s Manhattan apartment. Contractors and interior designers were in and out the entire month of January preparing the nursery.

Photos from their pregnancy shoot in the Caribbean were returned to the couple at the end of January. Colin noticed how enamored Tripp was with them that he had one blown up, nearly life-size, and framed for their foyer. It was a surprise for Tripp, so Colin had it hung while he was at work and unveiled it one day in early February.

Colin was just two weeks from his due date when he stood by the door waiting for Tripp to return from work. When Tripp arrived home, he noticed his pregnant lover in the foyer and the massive, covered frame on the wall.

“What’s this, babe?” Tripp asked as he hung up his coat.

“I have an early Valentine’s Day gift you.” Colin smiled as they kissed.

“You didn’t have to do that babe, our boys are the gift of a lifetime.” Tripp said as he caressed his pregnant lover’s belly from beneath Colin’s navy polo.

Colin backed away and removed the drape covering the 56” x 70” frame. It was the photo of Colin sitting in the sand during their beach photo shoot that Tripp liked so much.

“Babeeee” Tripp exclaimed, pulling Colin close so the pair could look at it together. “You are so breathtaking.”

“I knew you liked the picture a lot.” Colin said, “And although I’m not a huge fan of having a life-size photo of myself in our home, I knew you’d appreciate it.”

Tripp kissed Colin and rubbed his 38-week belly that recently surpassed 63” and 305 pounds.

“I LOVE it.” Tripp exclaimed. “And I love YOU.” He continued as they kissed again.

“I wouldn’t mind making this a tradition.” Tripp suggested.

“What do you mean? Colin asked.

“Well, did I ever mention I wanted a BIG family?” the baby daddy smirked.

“Oh yeah?” Colin cooed as he backed away from Tripp and smirked back. “How big?” he joked as he turned side to side to accentuate the belly that was home to their unborn sons.

“Of epic proportions.” Tripp smiled as he approached Colin and pinned him against the wall. At this point in Colin’s pregnancy, Tripp had to lean far in to meet his lover’s face. The belly that stood between them was no joke. “Is my baby mama up for the challenge?” Tripp whispered in Colin’s ear.

“Challenge accepted.” Colin replied before the pair began making out and undressing in their foyer.

[dreamdropxoxo]

Soo.. Damen with lots of gold piercings for your next fic? 👀

Haha Im sorry i just saw the amazing art you reblog and I couldn't stop myself from asking one of my fav Capri writers for something like that 💖💖 hope you have a nice end of the week 🌈

Ps. Im crazy over your new prompts! They are so good 🌼

Abso-fucking-lutely! Gimme all the pierced!Damen content 😍

Thank you for all this super nice ask 🥰. It means a lot. Under the cut, some more pierced Damen 👀. Have fun!

Part 1

"This is not your first piercing, I gathered?" Auguste asked him in a conversational tone as he put on black gloves. Damen blinked himself out of his daze.

"No, it's not. I have a few. That's also why I want the gold one. They have to match." This had Nik snorting out, "yeah, nobody should ever say you're vain, am I right, Damianos?", and Damen rolled his eyes. At least the banter gave him something else to concentrate on instead of thinking about the blond vision of a man. Laurent.

"That might be a little cold," Auguste warned when he started sterilizing the area where the piercing would sit. Damen tried not to flinch, but the underside of his penis was still a very sensitive area. Auguste smiled at him and continued, "it's good that this isn't your first. You already know how it goes."

Damen nodded. He felt the marker on his skin and then Auguste said, calmly, "alright. Breathe in slowly and then breathe out." Damen did and he could feel the needle puncturing his flesh. It hurt, but it was bearable and Damen just breathed through it. Nik sat beside him and held his hand in a dead grip, his eyes were wide and he swallowed hard. Damen would have laughed if there hadn't been a needle in his penis.

Auguste was gentle as he held the skin with the forceps and inserted the golden barbell. Then he cleaned and bandaged the area and Damen could get dressed again.

"I'm never accompanying you again," Nik declared, looking a little green in the face and Damen laughed.

"I didn't ask you to, mate. You wanted to come save me from my stupidity."

Auguste laughed again, he was a very happy person, the crinkles around his eyes made that clear enough. "Alright. Damen, now let's come to the aftercare part. It will take approximately three months for the piercing to heal. During the first days it might bleed a little, but that's not something unusual. Light swelling and pain in the first couple weeks is also not unusual, so nothing to worry if that happens. However, should you get a fever, or the skin gets hot to the touch or there is pus of any kind, you should contact me immediately."

Damen nodded. He already knew that from his other piercings.

"Additionally, change the bandage every. Wash your hands with soap whenever you're touching the area. Rinse the piercing at least twice a day with distilled water and saline solution-," and so on. Damen nodded along. He already loved the shop. Auguste was fun and professional and very thorough and Damen knew he would come back again for his next piercing.

And it had only partially to do with the blond employee, who looked like a greek half god.

"Can I ask you an unrelated question?" Damen couldn't get out of there without knowing if Laurent was single or not.

"Sure."

"Is Laurent single?" Nik groaned when he heard that and Auguste burst out laughing after a second.

"Yes. My brother is single. Good luck with trying to change that," the blond man giggled and Damen felt the horror wash over him. He should have known. The similarities were obvious, glaringly obvious, but his brain hadn't functioned properly since he had seen Laurent the first time.

"Oh." But well, he was already in too deep, so he could just go on. "Does he like coffee?"

Auguste rose a surprised eyebrow. "Who doesn't?"

Damen shrugged. "Nik, for example." And did he imagine the interested flicker in the blond man's eye at that? Probably not. Nik was attractive after all.

"He likes his coffee black. And if you want some extra points, you bring three more of those, two with sugar one with milk. We all love coffee and Laurent loves us. He's a bit protective of the staff and of me, funnily enough." Auguste smirked and patted Damen's back.

"Jord will take care of the payment and don't forget the aftercare. That's important," he reminded and let them step out of the room.

[krreader]

seven sins | chapter six.

pairing: bts x reader ; kim taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; historical!au ; princes!bts ; concubine!reader ; mentions of sex genre: fluff ; angst word count: 2.3k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5

summary: even in times such as yours, you still led a privileged life with nothing to ask for. that is until first your father, then your mother died and you were left to care for your two younger sisters. the position for royal physician seemed to be open and with your father having been a general and your mother having been a maid for the queen, you thought you might be able to get it.. little did you know that your visit to the palace would put a completely different offer on the table.

a/n: WE’RE BACK TO POSTING REGULARLY BITCHACHOS! ♥ and this deserves a fucking update, still one of my fav originals to date

“Stop it, this isn't funny!”

You smiled from ear to ear when you could hear your sisters bickering with each other, walking up the familiar stairs to your home that you haven’t walked in weeks now, before carefully sliding open the doors.

Your youngest sister was annoying the older one with a stick, acting as if it was a sword, while the older one just wanted to be left alone.

Funny how so many things had changed... yet others stayed exactly the same.

“You should treat your older sister with a little more respect, you know?”

“(Y/N)!” both of them ran into your arms the moment you had finished your sentence, you hugging them as hard as you could, breathing in their scent that you missed so much, "You’re finally back!”

“I'm sorry I wasn't able to come sooner,” you kissed both of their heads, then showed them the bag that you were holding with a grin, “But I brought you a lot of treats!”

Were you allowed to take them? Probably not. But the kitchen staff always prepared too much for you concubines anyways. It’d be a shame to throw it all away when you had two wonderful sisters sitting at home who’d devour such things.

And indeed, the fact that you were gone for a while seemed to have been forgotten while they stuffed their faces.

For a moment you were afraid that maybe they haven't had enough to eat, but they looked healthy.

“Hey! Why are you eating so much, you make it seem like I haven't fed you at all!” Jun entered with crossed arms, “I've been cooking every day for you brats!”

“Sorry, Auntie Jun, but it's really good,” the youngest said.

She scoffed, but then quickly pulled you into her arms to greet you properly. After all, you also hadn’t seen her in a while.

“I got you something as well,” you whispered, pulling out a bag full of coins and sliding it into the pockets of her dress.

“No, no, no, I don't want this.”

“They give this to us every once in a while to buy new clothes, but I don't need that. You've been clearly taking care of them, Jun, I want you to have this. If not for you, then for your parents.”

She didn't like to take, she usually only gave, but.. she sighed in defeat when she knew she had to take it this time. Like you said, if not for her sake, then for that of her family.

“Thank you,” she squeezed you in her arms once more, then looked at the children to make sure they were still busy with the treats, before pulling you further away from them to have a private conversation.

What she was about to talk to you about shouldn't be heard by them.

“How are you? How are.. things?”

“I'm alright. They haven't found out why I'm there yet, but I think the queen is getting suspicious.”

“Because you're not pregnant, yet? The herbs work?”

“As well as I thought they would, yes. I've slept with four princes so far, so I should be pregnant by now. The good news, though, I heard that because Prince Seokjin is the heir to the throne, he is the one who needs to get a child as soon as possible. So the king ordered that nobody but him is allowed to get me with child and.. he hasn't been one of the four yet.”

“So as long as you stay away from him..-”

“Yes. At least it gives me an excuse. Not a good one, the queen knows men too well, but it's better than nothing.”

“Why haven't you talked to the king yet? You've been up there for a while, haven't you had the chance yet?”

“He's very reserved. Just like I had expected. My father used to tell me that he only saw him so much because he was pretty much the only person he ever trusted. I need a chance to speak with him when he’s alone.”

“Why can't you just tell anyone else? What about one of the princes? Maybe they could help you?”

“I don't know them well enough, Jun. Yes, some of them seem to like me a lot, but I can't take that risk. If I'm wrong, they might give the order to kill me. But with the king, I at least still have the card of my father to play. He will listen to me when he finds out who I really am and then all of this will finally be over.”

“So.. none of the princes could be an ally?”

“Well.. Prince Seokjin might be. He's.. troubled, these days. The weight of becoming the leader and bringing an heir into this world is crushing him. I talked to him once and I feel like he might understand me the most.. of what it's like to trying to look out for your family.”

“Then why not try that?”

“I've only seen him twice. I don't know what he's doing, but he doesn't seem to be much interested in me, to be honest.”

“Well, you managed to sleep with four princes so far. That's more than half of them. If anyone can do it, you can,” she put her hand on your shoulder, “But you need to be careful. I told you that the whole thing about you not being pregnant would cause a problem.”

“I know. But that is why I need to be careful with Prince Seokjin. If I see him and I really do end up sleeping with him but not get pregnant, then people are going to seriously ask questions. That is why the king is still my first option and Prince Seokjin only the second.”

“Whatever you do, you need to hurry,” she turned her head and looked at the two girls sitting on the floor, still eating and chatting about which treat they like the most, “They've been alright, but they ask questions that I don't know how to answer. They know you're working at the palace now, but not what you do there. Neither does anybody else. Yet. But if people do find out, I'm worried that they might treat the two differently. You know how the town folk looks at concubines.”

“I know. Which is why I'm grateful that you haven't said anything to anyone.”

“You know I'd never do that.”

As much as you would have loved to stay the whole night and talk more with both Jun and your siblings, time wasn’t something you had much of these days.

Concubines, especially those with your rank, were only allowed a short period of time in the village. Nevertheless, you spent every second that you could with your family, had your sisters tell you about what's new, cuddled a bunch with them and assured them that you'd be back soon.

However, this time saying goodbye wasn't as hard as the last time, because now they knew that you’d indeed keep your promise of returning to them.

You were not like mother, you would not abandon them.

“Can you bring more treats next time?” the youngest asked with big eyes, making you chuckle and kiss her forehead, “The red ones with the pretty flowers on top?”

“I'll bring you as many treats as you want.”

“YES!” and with that, she ran back into Jun's arms who smiled as well.

And you took that opportunity to kneel down in front of the older one, “Tell me honestly. Are things alright?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “Jun takes good care of us, don't worry.”

“You haven't had any problems? Did anyone try to come in here?”

“No, people leave us alone,” she hugged you tightly, “We're alright, (Y/N). Really.”

God, she has grown up so much.. how long hadn't you seen her? What happened to your baby sister that always tried to get guidance from you? Now it was almost like you could ask her for guidance instead.

“I'm so proud of you..”

“Just come back to us safely.”

“I will,” you kissed the top of her head and then got up from the floor, “I will see you all soon, alright?”

And with that, you walked back to the palace, your heart not as heavy as the last time, thankfully..

..only to run into Eun and..-

“Prince.. Taehyung,” you bowed, but couldn't help the smile that spread on your face when you saw how Eun had her arm hooked with his.

So.. this was her secret Prince, huh? Definitely not a bad choice... but then again... none of them were a “bad choice”. 

“There you are! I thought I might see you at the market,” she smiled, “Where did you go?”

“I uh..- I was just.. taking a walk,” you lied with a nervous chuckle that you quickly covered up by switching topics, “Anyways.. did you enjoy your day?”

“Ah, it was so nice, we had a lovely time.”

As much as you liked seeing her this happy, something about this picture in front of you was making you furrow your eyebrows.

Eun had been the one to scold you for sleeping – genuinely sleeping – with Jimin. She had been the one to tell you that it 'wasn't your place', yet she had her arm hooked with Taehyung's and was looking at him like she loved him.

Whereas he seemed to be.. not nearly as interested in her. 

And why did she never tell you about her prince? Why had she kept it such a secret? You had told her about all of the ones you had slept with and now that you thought about it.. she seemed to have been relieved.. and now it all made sense. She had been relieved because Taehyung hadn't been one of them.

“My brothers told me quite a lot about you, (Y/N),” you three walked back to the castle, three guards in front, three guards behind you, “Good things only, of course.”

And see, you saw the way he looked at you, but Eun didn't. She just continued to look at him with those loving eyes and.. it hurt you. Because out of everyone at the palace, she was the only one that you truly cared about.

“Thank you, your majesty,” you said plainly, “I very much enjoyed my time with them.”

You needed to talk to her. 

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” you pulled Eun aside at dinner later that night.

You thought about doing this some other time and giving her a bit more space, but you hadn’t been able to think about anything other than this. If she was truly in love with Prince Taehyung, then she needed someone to wash her head and tell her that this wasn’t a fairytale. 

“Of course,” she followed you into the gardens, a place where you thought it’d be best to have such a conversation. Most importantly, because of the privacy.

“If I ask you a question.. will you promise me to be honest about it?”

“Yes. We're friends, aren't we?”

Which was exactly why you needed to have that conversation with her. Because you might end up being the one breaking her heart in the end. Because if Taehyung wanted to have you, he would. 

“Eun.. why did you never tell me that Taehyung was your designated prince?”

“It.. just never came up.”

“It did.. a lot of times, actually. I kept asking you about it and you kept laughing it off. It was as if you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Don't be silly,” she fidgeted with her hands, “Why would I keep that a secret?”

You stopped walking and gently grabbed her arm to make her stop too, “When you first met me, you said you wanted to be my friend because the other girls were all very competitive over their princes and that they had this mindset that they might change them and make them fall in love with them,” when she lowered her head, you knew you were right, “Eun.. did you fall in love with Prince Taehyung?”

It didn’t take more than ten seconds for her to burst into tears, confirming your suspicions.

You immediately pulled her close, rubbing your hands up and down her back, trying to comfort her as best as you could. You pitied her, really. 

“Everyone else has at least two girls.. but Taehyung only has me. I thought.. I thought I was special..”

“But you are special,” you immediately leaned back to look into her eyes, “Don't you ever let a man not make you feel special. No matter who he is. You are beautiful, you are kind, you are intelligent and every man out there would be a fool not to see that.”

“But Taehyung..-”

“Is.. a different case,” you shook your head, “You said it yourself, Eun. These princes aren't looking for love, they're looking for sex and someone to give them children.”

“Not with you.. you aren't like that.”

“Yes, Eun, I am exactly like that. I'm just like you, just like every other girl here.”

“No,” she wiped away her tears and took a step back, “I overheard Taehyung talk to one of his brothers..”

“So..?” you furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing what she was trying to tell you here.

Eun straightened her back, “I don’t know which brother it was, but one of them told Taehyung that they had fallen in love with you.”

[allyce-11]

Okay another Hogwarts AU that nobody ask for but i did anyway :D 

Let me introduce the mystery trio! and the reason for the headache of many teachers! 

So I love Gravity Falls, and I saw people before making their own AU with them in Hogwarts, so I just wanted to do my own and have a bit of fun! Here are some of the important parts I thought about the story in general.

(clarification: Bill is OOC for obvious reasons because he is a human here, not a chaotic psychopathic demon… He is a chaotic hyperactive troublemaker, with pretty grey morals but not, you know evil.

And I'm NOT writing a fanfic about this, why? because i can't write :D but if any of you feel like doing one because i inspire you with this bunch of nonsense, i will love to read it so please send me a link.)

Okay this is a long post so put yourself comfortable! 

- The twins are muggleborn but the Stans are wizards so when their parents discover that they are magical they send them to live in Gravity Falls so they can adapt a bit better.

- Gravity Falls is mostly a magical town but still has some muggles. (the people there think is a tourist town and basically explain any weird thing that happen there with the locals searching new ways to attract tourist with their “magic and mystery town act”)

- The twins go to live there at the age of 9, when they start to show signs of accidental magic, two years before starting Hogwards.

- Bill is an orphan. There is an orphanage just outside Gravity Falls.  A catholic orphanage at that, and let's say that when Bill started to make weird things happen around him… well, they didn't like it, they thought he was possessed. He gets punished, the staff and the kids ignore or fear him calling him a “demon”, all in all not really healthy for a small kid…   He started to leave the orphanage and run to the forest, the forest has weird things like him so he likes it. 

- Then one day he and Dipper run into each other (because of fucking course Dipper go to the forests even if its dangerous and he is a little kid, because who is gonna stop him? his responsable guardians?) and who would have seen this coming? They became fast friends (two lonely kids, wizards, that love the forest and are a bit of nerds? they got no problem getting along) Dipper eventually brought Mabel too and the mystery trio was born. 

- The three of them became really close at the point that Bill was more in the Mystery Shack that in the orphanage (though he has to go back regularly still, because you know, he is still they problem and all) 

- Eventually the Stans managed to adopt him so he could live with the twins (this happened at the end of three year.) The guy was there all the time anyways and Stan got a soft spot for the little bastard. The orphanage was just too happy to get rid of him. 

- Stan gets expelled in his fifth year. He runs the Mystery Shack as a tourist trap for muggles and sells some not so legal things for wizards.

 - Fords gots 12 NEWT and becomes an inventor, he works for the ministry and does all his experiments in his lab in the shack. 

 - The twins and Bill knew that they probably wouldn't end in the same house but promised to keep being just as close. 

- Dipper got into Ravenclaw, he does good in the majority of his classes but his best subjects are Transfiguration, Potions, Arithmancy, and Care for the magical creatures. (He chose Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care for magical creatures.)

- Mabel got into Hufflepuff, her best subjects are Charms, Herbology and Care for magical creatures. (she chose Care for magical creatures and Divination) her worst subjects are Potions. 

- Bill got into Slytherin and his best subjects are Defence against the dark arts, Astronomy, Arithmancy and Care for magical creatures. (He chose Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care for magical creatures.)

-The three of them became animagi in fifth year (in secret) Obviously Dipper make sure they do everything right and get the other two to be serious because “guys if we fuck this up in any point we can end up in some sort of half transfigureted animal so you are taking this seriously or i swear i gonna drown you in the black lake!” [Dipper is a dog (Border Collie)] [Mabel is a rabbit (lop)] [Bill is a wolf]

- The Mystery trio go to the forbidden forests rather frequently (they got caught half the time and get in trouble but they keep doing it)

- Mabel keeps putting patches and glitter in her robes even when the teachers take them away the next day the girl appears with more, it reaches a point where they just give up. 

- Bill and Mabel play quidditch, Bill is a beater, and Mabel a chaser. They can be really competitive, Dipper has no interest in quidditch and does not like flying, he only goes to support his friend and sister. 

- I see Bill and Dipper getting together in their, idk fifth year maybe? but you can also see it like a platonic close friendship.

 Mcgonagall: Why is it when something happens, it is always you three?

Dipper: Believe me, professor, i've been asking myself the same question for years  

(something explode somewhere)

Snape: Mr Pines! Where is Mr Cipher? 

Dipper: I don't know! why would i?!

Snape: …

Dipper:..

Snape:...

Dipper: three floor, boys bathroom.

Okay i gonna stop it here because this is long enough, if you read all of this, you have a place in my heart wow thank you. 

PS: (For anyone curious:

Ford: Ravenclaw

Stan:Slytherin

Wendy: Gryffindor 

Pacifica: Slytherin

Grenda: Gryffindor

Candy: Ravenclaw

Soos:Hufflepuff

Gideon: Slytherin 

Robbie: Slytherin )

[sugar-petals]

Your First Date With Baekhyun

:: bbh x sm apprentice!reader

words. 10k

warnings ⚠️ idol au hc, pining, brief angst, eventual car sex 👀, tw light injuries bc baek is clumsy in love, oral fixation, finger sucking, rough sex, making out

↳ NOTE. here we go again with the slow burn ✊🔥

It all starts with a divine act of clumsiness. 

An accident, completely out of the blue.

Who is surprised, what else could it be.

Ever since Baekhyun violently bumped into you from behind in the SM cafeteria to avoid Mark spilling red hot Americano on him… life has never been the same. 

That you walked in on him walking around mighty topless, with you wanting to clear the dance practice room many hours after work three times already does not help.

It’s always the same chain of events. He practices for longer than the others and gets sweaty, pulls off his shirt, pauses the music for a five-minute break. That’s unintentionally making it seem like everyone is already gone and the room is empty — you are deceived by it every time, and he almost gets a heart attack himself. We know how easily embarrassed Baekhyun is with showing skin by accident, outside of any shower stalls that is, let alone being caught stripping by himself. 

The first time he screams and you scream, off you run after quickly shutting the door. He tries his best to cover himself up with his hands, but to no avail. Lucas, Kai, and Johnny are no longer the only Magic Mikes under this rowdy fucking roof anymore. Even if you turned around fast, you saw more than a whole lot. 

You know how scared Baekhyun is by surprises, he gets all fidgety. Even after four whole minutes, he still sits with the music off breathing harder than he did from powering through four jointbreaking ligament-snappers I mean EXO choreographies. 

Lot of thoughts on his mind, lot of blood pumping through him. Baekhyun can hear a pretty hefty heartbeat pound in his ears. Eventually, he shakes his head at himself and does switch the music back on. But even that doesn’t distract him, nor can he concentrate on the moves. He keeps on asking himself — what the hell is wrong, what is this, why does he act like that? 

So, he ends up sneaking out of the room to call it a day. You were waiting in the nearby corridor to do the cleaning after he left. But now, you hide behind a shelf with props and miscellanea to avoid him. 

Of course, Baekhyun comes to grab a water bottle from said cupboard. Well, oh shit. He has his shorts on, and his calves are literally 20 inches away from you. He doesn’t see you crouching down there, but your pulse is going through the roof now, too. 

In fact, not even the days when Taeyong is walking around the company in a sexy as hell crop top could cause you such a panic. And that is the highest possible bar already. The average apprentice almost faints.

There’s pungent sweat that can knock you out of your socks… and then there’s sexy sweat scent mixed with men’s deodorant. Baekhyun leaves the latter after rushing out of the corridor. It’s even more intense in the practice room, if not absolutely unbearable. Oh boy. Pheromones, please no.

It’s almost as if you’re taking a bath in cologne. You’re getting nauseous and tingly from how it gets to you. You can hardly focus on scrubbing the mirror. If only the guy knew what horniness he is causing just by infusing the air, what the fucking fuck.

The second time, he jerks up again, but tries to explain himself. But so do you, ending up with a mutual, stuttering word spill in sync. 

Neither of you understood what the other was saying because you were too busy with a knee-jerk dialogue. Anxious all over, you quickly leave and eventually end up hiding behind the cupboard again. The new comeback track blasts even louder in the practice room. 

The third occasion, you no longer flinch at each other and laugh a little, mighty embarrassed still, but apologize with knowing eyes. This time, you enter the room after a small „Can I?“ and at least manage to clear some noodle boxes and unused towels from the backup dancers away, and pin a new schedule to the door. 

Baekhyun quickly pulls over his plain white tee and keeps on mumbling sorry, sorry like he’s Super Junior, practically scraping the ground with his hair because he bows so deep. 

You’ve never seen him this awkward. Instead of his usual one-liners and most effortless conversation starters, he resorts to switching on the music again after frantically looking everywhere but in your direction. He sings his lines right along, getting back into the routine’s intricate steps. 

Strange. 

Very strange.

All day, he is impulsive with lightening up just about any situation. One sentence, hook line and sinker; the mood alleviates. Not this time. He’s ignoring you now that you’re in the room.

The truth is: Baekhyun can’t help but set his pupper eyes on you in all other occasions already, especially when you’re busy at a distance. And it’s making him crazy. Next day at the cafeteria, he deliberately arrives late so he can queue way, way behind you. 

For the first time in all glorious epochs K-Pop history, he would let Sehun enter the line before him so he would have a shield. „Maknaes first“ is his brief comment, and Sehun thinks that Baekhyun must squarely confuse today with his birthday.

And fate says… sike. Two minutes later, a teary Mark rushes toward you and loudly apologizes for the Americano disaster. „Baekhyun was not being impolite, it was me!“

As he says just that, he turns, points right at Baekhyun’s tomato red head peeking out from behind Sehun’s shoulders, and bows to him. 

The whole cafeteria is witness, including Lee Soo Man.

And SHINee, who will have gossip material for five weeks because of this. Key is already taking notes. 

And BoA — who’s giggling because she’s seen it all in the business and knows exactly what’s going on with Baekhyun and you. Oh. Lord.

Baekhyun wants to sink into the ground right then and there. He’s been found out again. Of course he has to step out from his lair now and bow back to Mark, take the blame and explain the whole incident all over, and comfort him with a string of appeasing words. Which he hates for four reasons at the same time. He embarrassed Mark, himself, disturbed you the way he bumped into your back, and now you saw him hiding from… precisely you. Little does he know you did, too. 

Baekhyun quickly retreats to sit next to Sehun once again after Mark has calmed down and he, being the senior as always, has performed another 180° bow to you in front of the entire staff and idol audience, causing his oversized shirt to slip downward, way to his armpits. 

Goodness gracious.

BoA is this close to shouting „get a room“ upon seeing Baekhyun stand in front of you with his stomach all bare until he has hastily tucked his shirt back into this place. Fast as it happens, you can’t hide your reaction face. 

Chanyeol, sitting at a nearby table, does a telling reaction noise himself, and you can tell he’s read the situation to a T. Even worse, he’s whistling. You can fool a lot of people, but not Park „Radar“ Chanyeol. He’s a himbo incarnate, but this guy’s emotional intelligence is too damn strong, and he knows Baekhyun inside out. Oh shit, man.

The next ten minutes are fraught with a weird, sonorous mumbling in the room. Lee Soo Man doesn’t really get it, thank God. But the meaning of Baekhyun silently cowering behind Sehun while eating his kimchi stew is more than obvious to half of the people around. Baekhyun never fucking acts like this, even when he’s sad.

It’s like something is pushing the two of you into humiliating situations like that ever since you started to work at SM since last May. Literally Baekhyun can’t stop apologizing to you all day because he’s suddenly clumsy or the strangest situations happen.

Nope, he doesn’t do it on purpose. But yes, he finds himself enjoying your attention. So what is he going to do? This keeps being stuck on his mind. Especially because half of EXO, NCT, and SuperM is asking him what the hell is going on in three raging group chats at once.

And you? I don’t have to tell you how it feels like when Baekhyun stumbles over to squarely plant his cutesy baby face into your back. Firmly wrapping his hands around your waist on top of that not to fall over entirely. That feeling is locked into your muscle memory. And now, seeing him stripped down for the fourth time already? Goodbye to your sleep.

Special thanks to a jittery Mark for making this first hug I mean collision out of nowhere happen. Just to be sure: Mark really didn’t spill his coffee on purpose, nor did Baekhyun want to bump into you this hard. And we know Mark’s reflexes are usually fast enough to save the day. But he was about to host his first variety show all by himself, so you can imagine how shaky and distracted he was. And nobody will resent him — this is only all about you and Baekhyun… being the most repressed motherfuckers.

Baekhyun constantly almost-crashing into you somewhere or basically crawling on the ground before you makes for a second very shaky guy. What the hell is pulling him towards you wherever he goes? It’s even worse than Minseok moving one inch and accidentally smacking Baekhyun in the face.

It just goes on and on.

Following the second cafeteria embarrassment, the next Friday after lunch, you run into each other at the ground floor elevator exit so you would drop your fries. Yeah, extra crispy ones, with the best mayonnaise. Baekyhun has been feeling so guilty about his curse at this point that he orders extra fries for you at the cafeteria two times a week with his card. Which makes Chanyeol know dear Eros struck particularly hard. Because if he didn’t care, Baekhyun would pay it five times a week like he does for NCT every now and then. But if he does it only two times, something is at stake. He doesn’t want it to be apparent.

Baekhyun can’t even look you in the eye when he puts them on your tray. Instead, he quickly bows three times in a row and then disappears. This guy is a small puddle of blush. 

Lee Soo Man cites him into his room to say what’s wrong soon, but all Baekhyun can blurt out is that he didn’t sleep well and the comeback song won’t get into his head. Which is not a direct lie, so.

Whatever you do, Baekhyun appears out of the blue and falls to your feet. Only two days later, he returns from shooting an MV and slips right in front of your office. Pretty much because his feet stumble over his own pants. You put the paperwork aside and check what the hell is going on outside. A dizzy Baekhyun straight-up hit his head at your door. He declines you helping him up because he knows that your touch is probably gonna make him fully insane. He walks around with a forehead patch during the comeback stage and people online think it’s the latest trend.

Somebody save this man.

The universe just keeps on arranging the silliest things to make shit happen, huh.

At this point, Baekhyun developing a full-blown apprentice crush is as obvious as Lucas being tall.

Now, the reality is. This man is Hitch, the Date Doctor. He notoriously handles crowds, can get along with anyone he’s put together with on camera, helps the other members to juggle their love life whenever they have a problem. Chen is probably a married man because of Baekhyun in one way or another. He isn’t really shy normally in his own words. But when it comes to his own crushes — classic case of everybody’s cupid who gives good advice they would need the most. 

That Baekhyun is helpless with anything that digs beneath the surface of his usual interactions will show to you very soon. There’s tough Baekhyun, there’s cute Baekhyun, and then there’s an utterly speechless little bean who has an internal meltdown when you do as much as take the stairs together. The difference is staggering. He’s fidgety, tense, makes himself even smaller and first and foremost: Is impressionable to an extreme.

In short: Baekhyun has fully converted into a fake maknae.

It’ll show in staff meeting conversations on trivial things about the schedule that he wing-mans everybody but himself when shit hits the fan. He stutters in your presence. Baek’s a mess. Chanyeol takes Baekhyun to the side and raises his brows at him at least five times a day, as in wanting to say: „Are you ever going to do something about it?“

Baekhyun dodges the answer each time and preoccupies himself with social media. Fans will later say that he hasn’t uploaded as many Twitter replies, Youtube videos, and Instagram snapshots in his whole career. And Baekhyun is already quite active online so you can tell how much he’s spamming.

Secretly… hoping you see his online activity. Which you do. 

You’ve memorized his five latest vlogs down to the cute little sound noises he’s making. Still, you hide behind the cupboard, and he is hiding behind an unsuspecting Johnny. Because Sehun is already grumbling about becoming a human shield, and Chanyeol would tease Baekhyun to the hell and back whenever you’re around.

Why does all of that happen? Why is he trying to escape? 

The answer is, Baekhyun feels an overpowering respect towards you. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, it’s something you exude. To the point where he isn’t able to clown you the way he does with others. It’s literally that bad.

On top of that, Baekhyun is frustrated that whatever extroversion he can switch on during broadcasts, fan meets, and with the other members is suddenly failing him. He tries hard to fall back to his usual humor, but you being around makes him act much more erratic. And, surprisingly reserved, believe it or not.

Eye contact will make him break whatever character he’s trying to tune into for the sake of keeping it together. The exact opposite will happen. All the blushing and boiling hot sweat gives him away. Your own heated af face he doesn’t even notice.

In his mind, he’s going through any possible way of mannerisms to get your attention all while not embarrassing himself. He gives confident SuperM leader Baekhyun a shot, comedian Baekhyun, too, and he will don a pokerfaced version of himself as a last option whenever you are close. 

All unsuccessfully. He can’t keep the façade for long; he knows he’s acting strange and inconsistent that way. Do you even realize what you merely sitting in the same practice room is doing to this guy?  

As you can tell…

It’s up to you to hit on him. Finding an unmistakable balance between being breathtakingly forward and overly subtle. The right way to ask him out is somewhere in between. The way you gauge it, Baekhyun is turned off by all kinds of brazen approaches, but doesn’t want to be nudged with satin gloves and feathers either.

However, you end up playing too lowkey at first try because you’re just as nervous. You think, maybe it’s good to find out how interested in me he will admit he is. Which, given how much he tries to conceal his feelings, turns out to be a difficult idea.

And — Isn’t is crystal clear he likes you a whole lot by the way he tries to retreat from everyone but you? Recently, fleeing to stand behind Lucas. Who has the most hiding surface and won’t question what Baekhyun is doing there all the time, unlike Johnny.

So, how do you learn that your plan is a bad idea? You try to involve yourself in NCT’s Friday night truth-or-dare where Baekhyun always joins to mess with everyone.

But that weekend, he interestingly excuses himself to „practice English, it’s urgent!“. Off he goes as soon as he sees that you are part of the lineup, looking like he’s seen a ghost. 

So, that mission failed. You get Taeyong, Haechan, and Yuta twerking against you at the same time while wearing sailor moon outfits as a dare instead. 

However: You still learned something from this. The way that even Haechan’s wild gyrating and arguably great ass did not have a single effect on you tells you that you really want someone else really damn bad. Hell, if Yuta Nakamoto winds against you and you feel nothing—

And, something else has become apparent to you.

Professional he is, Baekhyun establishes rapport even with people he dislikes or feels neutral about, but when his more vulnerable feelings are in the game, he runs from them. 

Beside Chanyeol and BoA, you’re smart enough to begin seeing what clockwork ticks inside of him. When Baekhyun doesn’t try to get close to someone that’s around him so frequently, something is mighty wrong and his opinion about that someone must be an intense one. And it’s not because he hates that person, the opposite is the case. 

He’s almost less afraid of you than his worries of ruining it. 

But through what, you’re wondering, seriously. 

On the other hand, you get why Baekhyun keeps a viable distance. He knows it’s difficult to be associated with him in the way he wishes you were. Since people were looking at him and you so strange in the cafeteria, he even stopped practicing in the after hours. 

Two weeks later, he even quits buying you fries for lunch and eats in the recording studio instead. Chanyeol remains correct: Much is at stake.

After the truth-or-dare fail, you sit down in sobriety and go through your options. You get all sorts of grand ideas to reveal your feelings, but dismiss the majority of it. You have to start small, really small. This needs the utmost care. Especially because you don’t want to compromise him by accident any further, nor are you anywhere near as ballsy as you believe someone hitting on Byun Baekhyun needs to be. 

Truth be told: BoA would kick your ass for thinking that. And letting so many opportunities pass, as if you aren’t beating yourself up for it enough. Idol mode Baekhyun, well, he would be hard to approach indeed. But what is currently going on… he’s literally showing you his underbelly. He’s begging you to do something.

That he avoids even the lightest touch: More than telling to BoA’s knowing eye. He would be so easy to sway with just one sentence. She knows that at this point, Baekhyun is desperate. His yes would come so fast. You’re far from having faith in this. But you still try. You want this man.

Eventually, you rack your brain for anything understated you could do. 

Then, you get the idea. 

After a schedule briefing, Baekhyun recently said he dearly wishes he could eat fried noodles in the early evening because he’s craving something savory, meanwhile flashing a split-second glance at you. Maybe… You can discreetly bridge the gap by getting him food.

You’re part responsible for doing things like that in the company already so nobody will question you driving around with your little motorbike. 

If you think about it: That’s a good excuse to approach him frequently and visit his apartment. The move is calculated, but it’s what the situation requires. You can’t tell how Baekhyun will react, but if he looked at you this way, it’s worth a shot.

And so, you dare the impossible. You show up with a deliberately small portion of noodles after the last comeback stage, knock twice. He does open. You’re frozen up.

Uttering a hopefully neutral „You said you wanted this. I’ll also bring it tomorrow if you want,“ and then drive off again without even waiting for a reply from a very surprised-looking Baekhyun in PJs. 

Sweating like crazy, thank God your helmet and the upcoming dark of the night was hiding your red cheeks. Shit man, that was robotic as fuck! is what you’re thinking for the entire ride home. Another fail, you sure won’t return tomorrow. Now you can’t look him in the eye, either.

Meanwhile: 

The meal not only saves the day of Baekhyun’s usually very lackluster diet mood that comes out when he is by himself. It also makes him flustered and grateful, curling up on his couch. He couldn’t even remotely try to say no out of politeness or concerns for his food plan. Baekhyun breaks the chopsticks right away after closing the door. Today, his dog’s with him. Mongryong excitedly jumps up and down next to Baekhyun. Your visit was short and sweet, but it made two beans very happy.

In fact, he rips open the box and shoves a quarter of the content into his mouth in the blink of an eye. It’s not just how hungry he is. He’s also overwhelmed that you came to his house. He feels like it’d be the highest level of disrespect to throw it away to begin with, no matter how spartan his eating habits are supposed to be. 

He almost views this little take-out box as a part of you. He imagines how you listened to him talk, decided to drop by, bought it with your own money, and carried it all the way to him. All that extra effort and attention he spins back and forth in his head for the whole next week.

And, on the spot, Baekhyun is so taken aback that he starts deep cleaning his apartment at midnight as soon as he finishes his noodles. 

To your own initial shock, he also drops an envelope with money under your office door the next day. And you thought someone was sending threats.

You get the underlying message, though. This is something just between the two of you, and the envelope is a yes. For another meal. Actually, more than that. There are 30 sorted bills in it, each to buy one box since he knows where you get the food from and what the standard price is. 

Payment for one month in advance. Meetings for one month in advance. This fucker. 

And you thought your sweaty scene at his apartment left him confused or weirded out. Nope, he decided he wants this times thirty. Something you have to let sink in.

The next day you drive along at the same time, there’s nobody there. 

Because Baekhyun has left the door open. Now you can’t just speed away again. Nor do you really want to, for God’s sake. 

After putting your helmet down in the small entrance room, you find an anxiously waiting Baekhyun on the extremely cleaned up living room couch, sitting there with fidgeting feet like it’s a porn casting. 

The tension could kill. You put the box on the table before him like it’s England’s Crown Jewels. You want to calm him down so desperately, but don’t know how.

Given his sparkly eyes set on the food, that he wants to devour what you brought him right away is not hard to overlook. But he still seems hesitant. Insecure. Baekhyun doesn’t manage to say a full word which is the most surreal thing. You work up your voice and pass him the chopsticks in their paper packaging. „Pig out. You didn’t eat since 7AM.“

Again, he breaks the chopsticks. Trying hard not to do it too fast.

You sit opposite to him and revert back to professional mode. Talking about statistics from the comeback that Baekhyun hummingly acknowledges the way he does when you talk to EXO in meetings. 

He stuffs himself like his life depends on it. No stable eye contact from him. 

Both of you know that it’s not what you want to say. But even ten minutes in: Nothing about the cafeteria, the fries, the envelope, the topless incident, the forehead patch, nothing. Just you going on about details from work and him listening, nodding, chewing, making brief little remarks and using all his standard corporate phrases. „Ah, yes, EXO surely benefits from that.“ But it’s a start. You begin small. 

So far, so good. With every evening, the conversation becomes more and more two-sided and the meals bigger. A second envelope soon enters your office, covering the extra costs for the XXL boxes, your fuel, and another month worth of meals. Note: Only one and a half weeks in. 

Fuck, you got yourself into something big. Is it because his dog likes you?

You are starting to like babying him like that, even if you both keep it serious. Unusually so, but at least you don’t get into any more accidents with that suspense off your either shoulders. 

It’s not like that cute little face would leave you any chance in the first place. Baekhyun smiles shyly around you. His big laugh is sweeping, but the small things… lethal. Absolutely lethal.

His manager doesn’t like it, but his genius idol’s mochi factor is increasing since you bring him spicy, richer foods. Baekhyun declines most snacks he’s offered at work, hardly eats up at the cafeteria and gives it to Foodcas Xuxi instead, and even the stylists wished he would gain more weight without any results in their convincing acts. But when you bring him a large portion of extra al dente spaghetti or — as of recently — self-made black bean noodles, Baekhyun would consider it rude not to follow the call of the carbs. 

Interesting.

He eats even more aggressively when he knows you made the food yourself. 

Quickly enough, he pays either for take-out or ingredients meant for not one, but two people. You usually eat a little earlier than he does, but you would not trade the best luxury meal in the world eaten by yourself with being together in Baekhyun’s flat. To the average Joe, this would be the biggest hassle, but to you… there’s no way you can get enough of being around him so privately. You enjoy taking the time to buy food for him. Taking the time in general.

You’re not the only one.

I don’t have to tell you how Baekhyun has to fight getting a vicious hard-on with sitting opposite to you with your motorcycling jacket peeled down to the hip, right inside a staring-not staring-staring-not staring match while you both slurp on your noodle soup pretending to be apprentice and idol.

It’s… bizarre. And hot. And bizarre. And frustrating.

You both don’t know where to take all of this. You end up making it a rock-solid daily routine, but not going any further than that because you are afraid. The excuse: Never change a running system.

In the meantime, Baekhyun works out even more. Not to compensate for the calories or to get rid of the increasingly chubby cheeks. Nope, it’s to impress you and show his fitness, plain and simple. At times, the music once again blasts in the practice room after everyone left. You come in to clear the room with Baekhyun in one of his very tight tank tops. 

You greet each other softly smiling. The familiarity really does begin to show. While you sort and organize, he writes you a little note on what to get for food tonight. He scribbles a little „:3“ emoji underneath. 

You think about that for at least two hours before you drive to his apartment.

So, yeah. Something is going on with him regardless of both of you trying to keep your routine stable and CIA-level secret. 

He finds himself cringeworthy when he carries seven stacked up chairs to a group meeting at once just because you’re attending. But something in him can’t help it, for the love of God. At least in this regard, he thinks, something is running on autopilot in terms of flirting methods. Meaning, he really does hide less and less. 

Meanwhile, Lucas’ eyes are falling out because Baekhyun is mustering new levels of strength nobody suspected he had. In the most random situations, even. Baekhyun’s fitness trainer is also living one hell of a life because his protégée is so eager these days. Mastering everything from weights to pilates. Hormones are one hell of a drug.

Kai frequently remarks that Baekhyun is different. „He’s nagging much less, what’s going on, why, why!“ he says to Taemin on the regular, and they invent all kinds of theories.

Since Baekhyun doesn’t want to miss out on your daily evening visit nor spend 8 hours in the gym, that means: He increases the intensity of the work-outs. For two and a half weeks, he is completely knocked out afterwards.

And so… it happens.

Baekhyun falls asleep before your visit. The door he has opened beforehand as always, but you enter a dim room with dozing Baekhyun splayed on the bed in his red carpet outfit from earlier that day. He worked out in the morning, did some hosting, talked his soul out in an interview, attended an award show, drove home, and eventually collapsed in the sheets. Lights out.

You put the rice box and cake slice you brought along on his desk. He looks so cute when he dozes, but you also hate disturbing his sleepy angel hours. Especially because you know how worn-out his schedule has left him and you feel sorry for it. 

You feel weird for standing there with your take-out and want to hurry outside as fast as possible, but leave a note. 

For the first time in weeks, you eat dinner in your own flat.

After forcefully waking up at 3AM due to his usual sleep cycle being off balance, Baekhyun falls into a spiral of regrets. Once it dawns on him what time it is and he must have missed your visit, he buries his face in his palms sitting at the edge of the bed. 

He resents himself for neither cleaning up his bedroom properly nor staying awake even more so, no matter how eventful his day was. He imagines how you must have seen him sleep, probably in the most humiliating, unflattering position and with terrible hair, judging him for being rude, forgetful, unattractive, messy, and probably a thousand other things.

Until… he finds the note. That one gives him a second almost-heart attack, but an adrenaline-fueled one this time. He stumbles back onto his bed and reads it twenty times over.

„Rest well and dig in. Don’t worry. Text if you’re okay. 03304 68010113.“

After three typos in your number, almost choking on cold rice because he eats so passionately, and several minutes of going back and forth on sending something, he kicks his own ass and writes a little „I’m ok, I’m very very sorry! I’m an idiot 😭“. After you reply that he has no reason to apologize, he rambles on about how he wishes that he’s not being an inconvenience to you with a whole row of sad and dejected emojis. 

You hate that Baekhyun feels put on the spot and obliged because of you this way and try to think hard about how to solve the dilemma. You won’t try to stop the rain of his apologies by telling him to calm down because you know it’ll make it worse, and instead decide it’s time to get going.

The opportunity is now, and there’s only one.

‚So, I have an idea—“

Going to the groovy little underground pizza restaurant downtown is something that Baekhyun immediately accepts as a suggestion. He wants to compensate for his dozing, but he also knows that this is a whopping chance more than anything.

And… a covert first date. 

He knows that’s what it is. It’s about leveling up now.

Before you can write that you’ll treat him and he can relax, he gets firm with insisting that you will pay not a single dime. You know that it’s not just his overworking conscience speaking. It’s also the only way Baekhyun gets an occasion to express that he takes this very seriously via text. 

That he wants to repay you and aims to get the most out of meeting up is something you realize when he steps out of the wardrobe room the next evening after everyone in the company has gone home. 

The stylists he has told that he needs to try this particular outfit on for some time to get used to it. „I need to dance in this, so.“

Actually, it is meant for EXO performing at the Oscars next week, but he got away with the excuse and a promise to take care. 

And… he really did the rest of the styling all by himself. He’s turned into a glamorous neat freak. Every shiny hair glued into its desired place, freshly dyed honey blonde with soft brunette roots. 

In fact, who walks at you is a wholly different Baekhyun in a dark, reddish-violet satin suit, pointy black shoes, matte black tie, mature sultry eye shadow, black square sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his signature lipstick, with a distinct statement tote bag, and black lace socks. I repeat: Lace. This is the fanciest anybody has ever headed to eat $6.50 pizza at a tube station. I mean wow, just wow. The tailored shoulders and how tight the tux cinches in at the waist is on par with Kai’s Obsession crop top. 

Even the much more expensive award show outfit from last week looks like a potato sack compared to how much he dolled himself up and reinvented literally every inch about himself. Like you have to prevent yourself from drooling.

Yep. He. Means. Business.

Funnily enough, Baekhyun realizes his zeal and just how much he is trying to impress you at all costs when you turn up with your standard khaki trench coat, bunny print umbrella, and casual white sneakers that have seen World War 1 and 2. You know, just the way you always come to his apartment and the way it’s inconspicuous. 

Going by his face… he starts to overthink his esteem. You can see how his expression becomes mortified. You promptly decide to put an end to his self-conscious back and forth through taking him by the hand. 

„You’re the best-looking man in the world and I’m asking you for a date. Are you comin’ or are you not?“

You then make it particularly clear to him that if anything, this right in front of you is very much authentic Baekhyun and not someone else you’re in for after all. And, that you’re both in your genuine form tonight the way it’s gotta be, the way you know each other and the reason why you decided to do this. Boom.

Four-step Greek style sermon for tonight: Delivered.

Now he’s gaping at you too much to beat himself up. That mission is very much accomplished. Modern problems apparently require ancient rhetoric. You’re in a kick-ass mood tonight. I dunno, anybody would be, Baekhyun’s accentuated sense of style has the historic potential to make girls reckless.

Baekhyun’s hand is heated like an Icelandic geyser and his heartbeat rate would make the average rabbit look like an amateur. Believe it or not — it’s the first time you’re deliberately touching. It’s ridiculous.

You head to the company garage, he churns out five jokes in a row on how he must look like a Korean Elton John on the way to his best-of concert, you laugh… Baekhyun feels better. Three times as nervous compared to when you usually come to his flat, but better nevertheless. And he drives, so. 

He feels like he’s catching up and giving something back, no matter that you feel he doesn’t have to, but to him, it’s important. 

You joke back to him how it’s a little bit funny — Elton John pun intended — that you saw every inch of Baekhyun’s apartment at this point already but this is the first date. The world is upside down, but it’s SM Entertainment, so. Things get started in different ways, but they do.

That realization is getting to him, too. Baekhyun’s peacock alter ego emerges to bolt over the motorway like a lovedrunk Lewis Hamilton with a foot glued to the gas pedal, but also checks fifty times for how you feel in the passenger seat. Asking about how you like it, if the A/C is set to how you want it, whether your seat is tilted the way you enjoy it. Damn, he really is on edge. 

On top of that, said alter ego maneuvers him right into a 3-kilometer outer ring traffic jam before his innocent self even realizes it. More time to chat… more time to sit so close… more time you get to savor the comfort of his luxurious car. So that was a Freudian slip with a steering wheel right there.

You already know that Baekhyun has never tried as hard to make somebody like him. You compliment his taste in cars vice versa to take that pressure off before he turns into a nervous wreck entirely. And then, also adding that you could get used to this which makes Baekhyun feel like a billion Won. His eyes are downcast, his cheeks are beaming. Figures, light superpowers and such, we know the deal.

Meanwhile, that you really like him already and for a long time is something you challenge yourself to make more than apparent to him. If he’s still this desperate about pleasing you and unsure about how he comes across, there’s some work to do. This guy needs a sign. A football field-sized one. If Baekhyun’s demon is his self-worth tonight, yours is being a lot more demonstrative. You’ve been far too indirect with him all day every day.

That you’re outside of both your professional spheres actually helps: Big fucking time.

Easing him into a conversation happens surprisingly smooth when you recount visiting his apartment and seeing him sleep so beautifully. Which you say was the most gratifying thing which is the truth. It’s been on his mind, hearing about your relief makes a lot of things plague him less. 

You also add how you enjoy bringing him food just because. That he’s nice and good company, even when he sleeps. That assures Baekhyun and makes him laugh.

And yes. He ends up serenading you throughout the entire traffic jam. And yes. When Baekhyun is in love, his singing is particularly on point. You can hear the cherry on top in his registers. No need for the stereo, you can ask him to sing any song you like. 

The traffic jam disperses after 20 minutes, Baekhyun has interpreted your entire favorite playlist at this point. Arriving feels like way too soon. 

You put your trench coat over Baekhyun while he exits the car. There’s hardly anyone around in this part of the town but who knows, making sure not to mess up his hair in the process. Both of you hurry to the stairs leading underground. Meanwhile, the car is parked quite stealthily behind a closed-down fish restaurant with dusty windows.

It feels good to walk around with Baekhyun right by your side. 

The surroundings are cluttered with trash and only few people wait at the tube station that opens up before you with every step downwards. It’s actually perfect as a getaway. There are mostly older businessmen on shift at first glance. 

It’s colder out in the open and surrounded by surfaces of concrete, the car was like a spa by comparison. Baekhyun takes the initiative to put the trench coat back onto your shoulders. You feel flattered and you smile at each other, and walk on with synchronized steps. The pizza bar is almost within sight. In the meantime, the digital board announces the tube arriving in five minutes. He takes your hand.

And then… some real bullshit goes down.

A group of seven scraggly-looking teens lounge on a bench, roughly 200 meters before the pizza bistro. You have to pass the bench close-by given how narrow the walking space next to the train tracks is. 

One of them, the tallest of the bunch, coarsely shouts at you. „How much did that prostitute cost and where does he keep his money, huh?“ He sticks his wriggling tongue out right along. The others are ogling Baekhyun’s shoes and chest pockets, preying and laughing and sneering. It dawns on you that you should’ve asked for one more song in the car.

The mood tips. One of the boys sitting on the left side of the bench starts fiddling with a 3-inch switchblade. And then, something flicks the switch inside you, too. Your Kyoong-protect-o-meter goes through the roof faster than Baekhyun can get his car to the speed limit. 

Cue She-Hulk transformation. In an onslaught of your inner wrestling diva claiming her rights, you take matters into your own hands by hurling Baekhyun’s glitzy designer bag at the guy’s surprised face. Sorry Versace, it had to be done. The whole group gasps out loud. While they’re still caught off guard, you go on to lunge forward and furiously whack greasy knife guy and two other approaching attackers with your Roger fucking Rabbit umbrella using a windmill-motion martial arts technique you came up with from scratch. Baekhyun doesn’t even have to duck… being smol has its advantages. 

The switchblade is sent flying into a bin. Point landing. You proceed to rip into the group to helicopter your improvised weapon in circles until it threatens to plow down the better of them and they back away squealing and pleading. Britney would be so damn proud of you, I’m telling ya.

Needless to say, the mortally terrified group runs and disperses into the arriving tube, probably booking their therapist appointments for Monday morning already. You pick up the bag for Baekhyun a little breathless, dust it off, and say a prayer. Holy shit. 

What the hell just happened. Literally, what the fucking fuck.

An entirely wide-eyed Baekhyun still can’t believe that a whole group of sleazy guys twice as tall as him took an unhinged windmill beating by you to prevent a robbery, and meanwhile he is the martial arts champion. Like, hello? He’s been a Hapkido instructor with several gold medals. How many black belts does the guy have again? He could mow down fifty of that kind and pulverize anyone of them with a mere NCT-style kick. This is ridiculous. He’s mighty impressed.

A few businessmen at the station are looking at you from afar with open mouths. You wave and give a thumbs up signalling all is okay. The security personnel reviewing the CCTV the next day is down for a ride. You hope that there are no headlines with pictures of this. Tube brats get their ass busted by cartoon bunny at 2:15 AM. K-Pop star Baekhyun defended by mysterious umbrella wielder gone wild.

You take a deep breath, brush off your coat. „Um. Moving on I guess.“ Then, interlink arms with Baekhyun, strolling on toward the restaurant. Looking around everywhere, still a little shocked. Walking off your relief helps, as is looking forward to eating. Damn, you do outrageous things when you’re hungry.

The restaurant is the size of the practice room at best, lit with white neon and decorated with Italian flags in every corner. The empty seats are designed like in an American diner from the 80s.

The lanky six-foot-something waiter, Luigi Roberto Maranello Salvatore (his nameplate is really in-depth about this), hurries to the door when he sees how Baekhyun is dressed and probably thinks the King of Korea just arrived. Which he, in fact, did, but that’s beside the point. 

You sit at the very back and get comfortable after breaking your last sweat. An enthusiastic Luigi presents to you the latest ‚delicious couple menu options’ and promises to use the best toppings he can offer. You instantly trust him, Luigi has the most accurate mustache you’ve ever seen.

Baekhyun and you share a huge plate of the curiously named ‚Pizza Puppy Love‘  that might be better described as a circle-shaped late night gala buffet. You dig in because damn, fighting thugs makes hungry, and Baekhyun stuffs himself given how it’s his favorite meal. Luigi sees that you are avid eaters and way too busy looking at each other, so he disappears in the kitchen, proud of setting the mood just perfectly.

In the meantime, Baekhyun says that he thinks of hiring you as a sasaeng protection machine. You muse how the umbrella is sturdier than you thought and you wouldn’t hesitate to use it again now that you think about it. Being Baekhyun’s Jarvis is not a bad thought, actually. Beating up rascals for him is your newly discovered love language.

In fact: Whatever took over inside of you and made you lose your chill, Baekhyun is mighty curious about. He thinks that was very sexy. You get the feeling that this guy could like dangerous women. He might have picked that up from Taemin, credits to him.

After Baekhyun has dramatically recounted the umbrella incident at least five times, the conversation goes on about your embarrassing hiding stories, how hilariously over- and underdressed you are as a unit, and you teasing him about „speeding on the highway, are we“. Baekhyun teases you back about how you acted like his manager with your trench coat over his head. He kind of has a point and you call it a tie.

Seeing Baekhyun all full with his beloved pizza and acting so carefree in his Oscar suit is a cute sight. You take the liberty to cut a particularly large slice out of the puppy pizza UFO and feed him. 

If it’s a couple menu, you gotta act like it.

Baekhyun is making some mighty heart eyes at you, and so — you decide to take it a little further. This whole fight thing made you forget you’re on a goddamn date after… a whole year of eyefucking and that it’s about time to close the gap.

Luigi is wholly busy making order in the kitchen and Baekhyun has some tomato sauce stuck at the side of his mouth. Convenient. You take the chance to wipe it off with the tip of your right digit. 

He realizes what you’re doing and promptly grabs your hand to keep it right where it is. Uh-oh. His tongue darts out, he licks right across your finger. To top it off, he starts to suck it, too. With a typical nonchalance. Seeing how you almost combust, he takes another finger into his hot mouth. And sucks a little more. His lipstick smudges onto your hand. His eyes are like hot coals and the pupils are all blown. Oh my, my, my. 

If you’re just playing, don’t you ever give Baekhyun anything to escalate on like that, ever. The way you were ready to knock down the seven guys, he is ready to get physical once the first step is done. Though, the thing is. You’re not playing. It’s exactly the type of fodder that you’ve been craving to give him. Baekhyun’s oral fixation is something else.

The rest of the pizza is gone in five minutes…

…and Luigi gets the tip of his life.

You walk to the car in much faster steps than before. Even if it’s later than late, nobody is around anymore except a sleeping beggar on the other side of the station. No danger in sight whatsoever. There’s a different reason to get going like that this time and there’s no way you can mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming.

Back to the fish restaurant, back to the car spa. Nobody on the streets, anywhere. This night, Baekhyun does not feel even remotely tired, though.

After you put your umbrella in the trunk — you will honor it much more from now on — the driver’s and passenger’s seat stay empty for half an hour and a little more. Now, the actual stereo is on. There’s a lot to catch up with on the backseat.

Baekhyun puts Delight on repeat, and queues City Lights just because. Guy knows what good music and singing sounds like. You interlock hands and call him pretty. Baekhyun is flustered, but all the more eager. 

It takes barely a minute until you get serious with making out on top of him and grind on his lap like the world ends. The satiny fabric is too tempting not to gyrate all over it in your jeans. Lord knows his legs are great. You know what you signed up for. Those thighs are so delicious to straddle, you can’t even imagine. 

Baekhyun gazes at you so intently and ready, whispering his little you-can-do-anythings and tell-me-all-you-wants, it’s like magic.

To top it off, kissing his little pouty lips has got to be the best thing, running your hands through his sexy hair — even more so. Your mouth and fingers have been begging you to do this. Begging. 

From there, your hands go places. His neatly razored nape of the neck, his waist, the chest. His suit, all that expensive fabric, his gentle skin, it’s so nice to the touch. He smells so hot. Bergamot, cinnamon, and sweet, deep, rich and soothing sandalwood. „Girl, I’m your Candy“ gets a whole new meaning. Practice room memories. As if you aren’t wet enough already. 

By the last minute of the second track, Baekhyun is already hooked kissing your neck and does some very daring acrobatics with his tongue. And you thought the pizza would satiate him. Nope, he eats you up like a whole salad bowl of black bean noodles with three pounds kimchi and ten fried eggs stacked on top. In his own words I mean lyrics: Game over.

The desperation and nervosity adds even more sloppiness and hunger. These have got to be the lewdest slurping and sucking noises you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but curse the ugliest things. Something’s pretty damn hard through the front of his tux already. 

Baekhyun feels that you feel it and the kissing becomes even more frantic. His whole body says: Grind more. Please. Please.

By the time the fourth track starts, Baekhyun’s entirely wet mouth wanders upward. Here goes the French kissing madness. You glide your hips back and forth on his bulge, and his tongue is already winding inside of you like it’s advanced singing lessons. It’s so unreal that you have to grab hold of his upper arms to stay in place. Shit, this guy. 

You can tell that this… is his absolute forte. Nobody can fuck with Baekhyun when it comes to outrageous mouth and throat technique. Your tongue gets a sense of how confident he is in his lip service and works his way into it. Now you know how it feels when Byun Baekhyun pays back your attention. Holy Luigi’s Cannoli, he has so much fun. Way, way too much fun. Like Sir, this is a Wendy’s.

And that’s the last damn straw. Really, the last one. You can’t do this shit anymore. You ask for condoms. 

After freezing up for at least ten seconds, he nods his little head about ten times in a row. It’s as if he can’t actually believe it and didn’t just kiss the shit out of you with the hardest dick in history.

„Okay, I’ll—“

Baekhyun keeps them in a yellow puppy-shaped bag under the driver’s seat and takes three torturous minutes to get them from there since it’s underneath and behind other random things. Which means you get to look at his ass for said time because he is bent forward between the two front seats. It’s not like you’ve never seen Baekhyun from behind, but never this close nor in a suit as tight since he usually wears baggy things. So. He’s not just big in the front, then. For his build? That is Korea’s ass.

And the condoms? You expected they were in his tote or his suit within one reach and rip. Nope, Baekhyun did not leave the company building with intentions. He’s been managing this raging boner for a whole year and did not make any moves on you in his apartment where he could have had you on any available surface in two minutes. Baekhyun wasn’t close to even remotely ask for literally anything. He just sat there on the couch with restless legs, ruffled hair, and an open mouth while hearing you talk. You don’t want to imagine how intensely he must have gotten off. Which he, in fact, did. 

He didn’t deliberately plan sex in a specific place for the first date either. Instead, he was prepared for— what exactly? A slight eventuality? Now that you think about it: Going by how he dressed himself, what Baekhyun probably thought he could get out of this was: A compliment. Even if all of your evening visits were nothing but hardcore sexual tension and this was the chance to bring that to an end. Let that sink in.

This guy’s self-control is not only astronomical, but also completely astounding given his usual character. In fact, you thought he would be entirely sovereign with this. How could he not? He’s Baekhyun!

Going by all that… You conclude that Baekhyun must really feel like he does not deserve you. His shame and self-denial must go through the roof. Given how his deeper insecurities have been in plain sight, it actually makes sense. Looks like you’re the one bringing them out, whatever it is that you do. It’s pretty tough knowing that you rouse something as vulnerable in him but it’s as good as it is bad. You find him very brave and incredible for letting it show. Honestly? It’s better than pushing through all of this pretending.

Plus — You really must have given him the impression that he can look but not ever touch. While that’s the entire opposite of what you want. 

To be fair: Having Baekhyun openly touch you in the company would have been a dangerous act. Even more so than say, you touching him, (which would have been somewhat possible, look at stylists and managers casually or work-relatedly doing skinship). Because that means that the availability his profession suggests to the world is no longer a thing and his mind is set on one person. Which, in his field, is social death. 

That’s why Baekhyun could only ever touch you by virtue of circumstances and whatever higher forces arranging accidents where he bumped into you. Talk about indirect ways. The universe gave you what you wanted, but in a way where there was always the excuse of bad luck and no possibility of other people finding out about your feelings. Risky love breeds risky circumstances.

The same with showing his body or knocking at your door to get your attention. He knows he can’t do that, can’t ask for it. So what happens? You accidentally walk in on him, or he crashes against your office entrance after slipping.

The same with treating you, spending time together, getting taken care of by you. Baekhyun found himself wishing for it. So it happened that you spilled your fries and he bought them for you all over, and he was begging for fried noodles so the opportunity to meet surprisingly came about. The accidents themselves both of you didn’t want nor deliberately stage, but you very much wanted the results of them. Directly you could not express your feelings, not even Baekhyun. That’s how it all came to be and now you see just how much he wants to be close to you in so many ways.

That he feels ashamed and undeserving — that shocks the living hell out of you. 

So, all right then, keeper. Time to show you otherwise. 

It’s crazy how he thinks you’re the one off limits and not him. Then again, he’s not the guy with the savage umbrella technique.

Since his hand is too shaky, you slip one on him and start to ride him without any further ado. You’re already leaking so what’s left to fiddle around about. No wasting any time here. 

The deal is as good as sealed. He feels fucking great inside of you and his wide eyes are the most rewarding thing. Whatever dimension Baekhyun just broke through, the level of whipped is not possible to be described with any human words. His hands are roaming over you pretty much without aim, you can tell your body is too much for him.

After he’s begging you to do it roughly, you grab him by the collar and fuck his soul out until he’s all gasping because his dick hurts. The song’s called Are You Ridin’ with good reason.

Baekhyun’s brains are long screwed out at this point, if not reduced to absolute green and purple jello. Is there actually any mind to lose at this point after you had your fingers in his mouth? Like literally, his favorite thing? Probably not. 

He bites down into his sleeve. Baekhyun is all knocked out by you by the time you get to your second orgasm, and reclines on the backseat bench to starfish the rest of the thing with his mouth hanging open at you. Hormone overload. His entire body shut down except the will to keep it up and not come. Yum, he is fit. Where he takes that godly strength from, only higher powers can tell. The Tree of Life, Zeus, Ten Chittaphon, I don’t know. 

He just has the kind of dick you can really bounce on. Really. Fucking. Hard. You are one spark of insanity close to run on autopilot. I don’t think anybody’s growled like this on him before. Nor was Baekhyun’s cock this close to falling right off, ever. 

This is not sex, it’s a crazy as fuck pounding, with Baekhyun on the verge of being blacked out with drool on his chin and his eyes rolling back. His fingers are absentmindedly trailing down your upper back and all he can utter is a small, yearning „please, please“ and gritting „don’t stop, please don’t stop…“ between his teeth. And hell, you have not a single reason to. Cue Captain America, I can do this all day.

When other people say smashing, whatever they’re referring to is not as smash as this. This must be the dirtiest, wettest slapping noise you’ve ever heard, and Baekhyun’s entirely uncontrolled moans will be forever etched into your memory. So melodic, so goddamn excited and desperate and all fucked out. He’s groaning so well, it’s like it’s meant for you.

By the third time you come, he’s crying and whining and has to cover his mouth not to scream out loud. You have no idea what your body is doing, but whatever it is, it’s taking Baekhyun out. Even you tire after some time, but you keep going. You imagine that every thrust is the meal and attention you wanna give to him.

That’s a lot of fucking and edging you get done in half an hour. Baekhyun’s tongue is hanging out afterwards and you went through a whopping three condoms. So much frustration finally released. Baekhyun’s gonna be emptier than Suho’s wallet after Sehun ordered a lifetime supply of bubble tea. 

You squarely avoid oozing your own cum onto his backseat with one hand. Good lord that creampie would ruin everything if he didn’t wear a condom. You’ve come a long way since colliding in the cafeteria, not gonna lie.

And thank God you’re not fucking somewhere in the company and the Audi is close to soundproof because this guy is LOUD. You need some good eardrums to handle these moans. Unhinged is an understatement. If this becomes a contest outwhoring each other, he’d win by a landslide. 

By the time you slip off, Baekhyun is on the verge to the dreamland, you milked every last drop out of him. Which means… 

…you get to drive an expensive as fuck Audi through Seoul. Your beatdown with the tube thugs you try to refrain from boasting about, but this one you are tempted to brag about to yourself for the next week. Well, in your mind. Just a little bit. It’s a great car. And you feel giddy in your body all over. That’s what sex with Baekhyun does to you. 

Seoul traffic is tame around this time. Half in his sleep, Baekhyun hums and sings on the driver’s seat. He’s all sober, but you made the guy act a lil’ drunk, huh. In his element, he talks and talks and talks and talks a little more. Then, does his tiny 'ㅅ' pup face and dozes for half the ride. Sleeping angel hours.

You can’t really scold him for passing out so fast in the slightest. As always, he went who knows how many extra miles just for you. That includes vowing to hand-wash his Oscars suit because it’s fucking ruined. Since the stylists are guaranteed to flame him, you send the fashion department a message how Baekhyun has to wear a different suit because he’s simply too dummy thick for this one, especially as far as the pants are concerned. Which is almost no lie and they will believe you. 

Much like his name suggests, Baekhyun does go hundred. At his apartment, you basically have to carry him into the bedroom. He says he doesn’t want to sleep. But you won’t kiss him goodnight after you pull off your jacket without a strong word on how his health has to be priority. He gets the point when you say you wouldn’t have had a first date without Baekhyun dozing off before your evening visit.

Sweet baby Jesus, you’d still be awkwardly slurping noodles without Baekhyun’s faux pas. If you look back at it: It’s all a story of accidents that turn out beautiful.

Sleep being Baekhyun’s reset button, that’s the best thing to do in order to give the night a good conclusion. Being alone in his apartment together, you don’t have to discreet about sleeping next to him after setting the alarm clock.

Mark Lee’s piping hot Americano is the culprit for all of this, but you thank him.

----

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[sixth-light]

for everybody who was asking about Nicky’s PoV in Explaining Is Losing (set during the fourth chapter):

The first time Joe said “I love you,” to Nicky, Nicky knew he wasn’t really thinking about it. It was two weeks after Nicky had moved into his flat. Joe was on his way out the door to an early meeting he hadn’t been able to reschedule (Nicky had learned over the last few months that he was not an early riser) and he’d poked his head back in to ask, hastily, “Did we decide what we were doing about dinner?”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Nicky said absently; he was sitting on the couch and reading a journal article, which was something he preferred to do at home, where – until recently – he could be guaranteed a lack of interruptions. “You’re cooking tomorrow, though.”

“You’re amazing, I love you, I have to run,” Joe said, and slammed the door. Nicky sat there frozen for five minutes, waiting for Joe to reappear. He didn’t.

*

If anybody had asked Nicky, which they had not, because Nicky had gone to quite extraordinary lengths to make sure nobody would – if anybody had asked Nicky how long he’d been in love with Joe, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them. It had, perhaps, been the day when Joe had come back to his office and dragged him back into the storage closet and got down on his knees and said I don’t like leaving things uneven, and Nicky had nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot. Or, no, that hadn’t been love. It had been nuclear-blast levels of lust, but not love. But certainly it had been there, in some degree, by the time Nicky had invited Joe over for dinner and Joe – instead of laughing, or awkwardly leaving – had sat down and eaten dinner and it had been…nice.

Nicky genuinely hadn’t really, really, been expecting that. His rivalry with Joe had been maintained largely because pride was his overwhelming sin (as his confessor knew all too well), and his personality included a level of sheer ingrained pettiness that had prevented him apologising to Joe even though it was deserved and, actually, was compounding the offense the longer he didn’t. There was also a kind of mean pleasure in it; Joe was fun to spar with, smart and witty and willing to be dragged down to Nicky’s level.

The fact that Joe was far and away the most attractive person Nicky had met in his life (and kind, and generous, and pleasant…to people who weren’t Nicky) had only somehow made it worse. After the incident – incidents – in the storage closet, Nicky had kept pushing because he knew that at some point, Joe would reject him, and then he could comfortably hate him for a reason that wasn’t entirely and unquestionably Nicky’s fault. That would be its own kind of terrible compensation.

Except he hadn’t, and he hadn’t, and Nicky had woken up the morning after that dinner with Joe wrapped around him, in Nicky’s very terrible and barely big enough bed, and known that he was in love and had no idea what to do about it. And now they were living together and he still had no idea what to do about it. Not because he thought Joe didn’t care about him; Joe just didn’t have the personality to use somebody like that. But because they had spent all this time not saying anything important to each other and Nicky didn’t know where to start. The very first thing he’d ever done with Joe was blow him in a storage closet on the very thin excuse of having lost a bet that Joe hadn’t even agreed to. He couldn’t just come out and declare his love now. Their affection for each other had always lived in the silences.

He gave up on reading the article because it wasn’t going to happen, and went to work, where he taught distractedly through two lectures, then sat through a committee meeting and contributed precisely nothing. This was still more useful than the very annoying (and badly-dressed) Vice-Chancellor who’d come to speak to them. At least he and Joe could be united in hating the administration (to be strictly separated from the administrative staff, who were the glue holding their departments together).

His oldest brother Franco called him at three o’clock. Franco felt the need to maintain a sort of patriarchal role in the family, which was funny because Nicky’s father was unfortunately still alive (he had been fifty when Nicky was born; he wasn’t young) and Franco was the only child who was still speaking to him. Giovanna hated their father because of his views on what women should do, Bernadetta was in the irredeemably queer basket with Nicky, and Marco had just enough family feeling to side with the majority of his siblings. Nicky tolerated Franco keeping up the tie because he knew it did come from a place of Franco caring for all of them, but knowing that anything and everything he said would eventually make it back to their father tended to temper how much he shared.

Franco told him all about what his children were doing before wanting to know what was new in Nicky’s life. Nicky did care about that, at least a little, as Giulia and Francesco were close to his own age and he had more or less grown up with them, but then on the other hand he also knew it all already because of Facebook.

“I moved,” Nicky said. “I’ll send you the new address. It’s not very far away, only a couple of streets.”

“Oh, why? Your flat was fine. Dark, but fine.”

Nicky thought about the disapproving curl of Franco’s mouth when Bernadetta had defiantly mentioned she wasn’t the only gay one in the family, more than a decade ago, and the way he never asked if Nicky was seeing anybody, and Joe saying You’re amazing, I love you, and thought: fuck it. “I’ve moved in with someone.”

Franco sounded startled. “Oh! Oh. Someone, like…I know rent in London is very high…”

“Someone I am in a relationship with,” Nicky said, feeling guilty because he didn’t know if that was what Joe would say, but it was true, wasn’t it? It was some kind of relationship. “A man. Since I know you’re wondering.”

“No, no, of course I know –” Franco made a impatient noise. “Don’t be difficult, Nico. Nobody is oppressing you. So tell me about him. How did you meet?”

“We work together. He teaches art history.”

He could hear Franco frowning. “Wasn’t there some art history professor you didn’t get on with –”

“Oh, no, that was someone totally different,” Nicky lied point-blank. “Joe and I have a lot in common.”

“Joe, huh. Is he English?” More frowning. “I suppose that’s not so bad…”

“Dutch,” Nicky said, and waited a beat. “But his family is from Tunisia. He’s Muslim.”

He clenched his left hand around his thumb, but all Franco said was “I would have thought you’d have enough trouble with the Church without that as well.”

“Well, I didn’t pick him out because he wouldn’t be trouble,” Nicky snapped, and had to reel it back. “You’d all like him. He’s one of the nicest people I know.” Joe would be, to Nicky’s family, he knew it. Even Franco, who did not at all deserve it.  

“It must be serious, if you’ve moved in with him,” Franco said, thoughtfully. “I know you wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t.”

“I – yes,” Nicky said, and felt like he was baring his soul and lying through his teeth at the exact same time; a very strange feeling. “Yes. Yes, it is.” Another breath. “It’s…it’s been about a year and a half.” At least if you counted from the storage closet; since he wasn’t giving any details, Nicky supposed he could do that.

“You should tell us these things, Nico!” Franco admonished him. “That’s forever! Giovanna got married in less time than that!” Nicky took the lecture quietly and made his excuses to end the call, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure why.

He took a breath, and dialed his mother’s number. He couldn’t let Franco tell her this.

*

Nicky had to chase Joe out of the kitchen when he got home. “Am I cooking, or not?”

“You’re cooking, and I won’t be in the way,” Joe said at once.

“Yes, you will. Go.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Joe laughed.

“Because I love you enough to want to feed you something edible, which it won’t be if you keep distracting me. Out,” Nicky said, all in a rush. Joe laughed again and kissed him. He didn’t say anything. Nicky wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not.

Late that night, after they’d turned the lights out, Joe sighed into the back of Nicky’s neck.

“What?” Nicky said.

“This evening,” Joe said. “In the kitchen. Did you say you loved me?”

“Does that sound like something I would say?” Nicky could feel the part of them that took over when they sparred doing the talking, and he hated it; why did he do this to himself? And to Joe.

“No,” Joe said, but gently. “No, of course not.” He kissed the back of Nicky’s neck, and said something Nicky couldn’t understand. It wasn’t even Arabic.

“I don’t know what that means,” Nicky said, wrapped up in Joe, dizzy with it.

“Yes you do,” Joe said, quiet, insistent. Nicky turned over in his arms, so he could lean their foreheads together.

“Yes I do,” he whispered. Joe held his hand in the quiet warm dark, and they breathed.

Nicky hadn’t expected it would be like this, being loved. His whole life was words; their whole dislike of each other had been words; and now, in this moment, he found he didn’t need them at all.

[deniigi]

To carry on the MCU Peter anon: would you ever write a multiverse / blend where your Peter meets a more MCU Peter (actual MCU Peter not the fanon created one)? And/or initimable Peter meeting another version you’ve created?

Also, would you ever write a MJ (my beloved) POV fic?

Hey boo

So Question 1: I did a little piece with a MCU/Inimitable crossover here

It’s not quite the same, since it’s from the pov of MCU Peter.

The idea of young Inimitable Peter meeting someone who he could have so easily been if he’d not gotten involved with Team Red and had instead stuck closer to Stark would be an interesting thought, I must say. Not so interesting that I’d write it, but I’d def have half a drink and then a muse on the idea and how it would unfold.

For MJ, I have written some stuff from her POV! ( See just roll with it from the Dumpster Fires Verse)

I also wrote a terrifying piece a long ass time about about some non-NYC vigilantes trying to step in and overthrow the vigilante/Superpeople order of things by trying to goad Peter, Matt, Wade, etc into a fight. MJ narrates it and it’s sort of dark so I’m putting it under the cut here.

trigger warnings for violence (like Netflix DD and Punisher levels), violence against minors at school, and some pretty heavy injuries.

-------

“Michelle?” a voice she’d never heard in her life rasped into the classroom door. The smell of iron and smoke and god, blood—that was blood she was smelling—it was all suffocating.

“Michelle, honey, c’mon, sweetheart. We ain’t got time for being scared right now,” the voice said.

She’d never thought that she’d have to consider the fact that those were boots coming towards her, not sneakers, not shoes.

The butt of a rifle swung down into her view. Joined the boots right in front of her. Bones popped as the Punisher knelt down.

She knew him by the skull on his vest.

She knew him as a monster. Not a hero.

He held out a hand to her.

“I got you, baby girl,” he promised, “Ain’t no one gonna touch you.”

His hands were smeared in some kind of grease. Gun oil? Soot? It didn’t matter. He stayed crouching low. He didn’t wear a mask.

His nose was kind of crooked. And his eyes were deep set.

They were brown.

He said nothing, just held out his big, greasy hand.

She took it.

 --

 The Punisher’s grip was calloused and firm and he kept her behind him at all times. He was even bigger than she’d ever imagined; bigger than Mr. Murdock. Bigger than her dad. Maybe the around the same size and build as Wade.

He didn’t explain things; he used his hands to talk.

Stay behind me, said the press of his rough palm. Don’t let go, stay behind me.

Out front, the fingers said later, now curled over the tops of her own. Walk, walk fast. Out front.

Stay behind.

Out font.

Down.

He made her kneel with him and peeled off his vest. He didn’t give her a choice.

It was heavy. So heavy. He strapped it onto her as tight as it would go.

“Home stretch, darlin’,” he finally said with words, the noise of bullets and panic around them seemed quieter with him talking. She found that she didn’t want to leave him. “You go when I say, alright? You go when I say and you don’t look back, alright?”

No.

No, he would die if she left. He needed to wear the vest.

“Look at me, Michelle.” She did, through the tears. “You don’t look back.”

She nodded.

 --

 He said go.

She didn’t look back.

Not until Mr. Murdock was pulling her away, shouting at the top of his voice for an ambulance. She’d never heard that gravel in his tone before.

“Michelle, look at me,” Mr. Murdock told her, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her gaze away from the classroom where the Punisher was dying.

“Look at me, honey, look.”

There wasn’t much to look at, she couldn’t see his eyes through his mask.

“Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Show me where you’re hurt.”

It didn’t matter, she couldn’t feel it anymore. The Punisher was dying in there, he needed his vest.

“Frank’s fine,” Mr. Murdock told her. He pulled her head back to face him, but he wasn’t looking at her at all. It was like he was looking down at the space between them. One of her hands felt warm on top, cold at the fingers. It didn’t want to cooperate as she pulled at the vest. “He’s fine, he’s gonna be fine. Fuck. Fuck. Put your arms around my neck, honey, c’mon. There you go, good girl. Alright, up you go. No, one more time. There you go, I got you. It’s okay, I got you.”

Mr. Murdock was stronger than he looked and he didn’t seem to mind that the vest was digging into his chest. His voice didn’t seem as loud, even though her head was right next to his throat.

She couldn’t tell if he was talking to her anymore.

 --

 She woke up.

There was white and blue and gray everywhere.

Her mom was burgundy. Her sweater was. Then she was tears, tears pouring out of her eyes, down over her lips. Her eyes weren’t burgundy, they were neon. Neon pink.

 --

 Her mom held her hand while the doctors explained to her that she’d have a lot of scarring, but she would be okay. She’d need some physical therapy to make the wrist do what it was supposed to again, but the bullet hadn’t caused irreparable damage.

The same for the wound in her ankle.

She’d be okay.

So why did she want to cry so bad?

 --

 She remembered why.

 --

 Peter was okay. He was in the room one over, attached to a lot of machines, but he was okay. His face wasn’t as clean as hers, the doctors and nurses hadn’t had the same kind of time to wash him down, they’d been busy trying to save his life.

His aunt had stepped out to go get things to wash his face for him. She was still wearing her scrubs. She worked in the ICU upstairs.

 --

 Ned was okay, he had a row of stitches from the bump in his wrist to his elbow. He told her tiredly that once he turned eighteen, he’d get a tattoo to cover the mark. Maybe laces, like sneaker, he told her.

Maybe stitches again, to remind himself what he’d almost lost.

 --

 Flash was okay. Abe was okay. Melanie and Gabriella were okay.

They were all okay.

Including the Punisher.

 --

 He came to see her in the hospital, he’d swiped a staff ID to do it. She thought that that was maybe overkill, but this was the man who’d offered his life for hers.

He was startled and went wide-eyed and stiff when she threw her arms around his broad chest and started crying. But he loosened up and told her that she shouldn’t be putting weight on her ankle. He let her hug him sitting on the bed instead.

He didn’t say things were okay like the others did. He grabbed her chin and shook it a little and said, “You’re fucking brave, girl. You’re so fucking brave.”

She didn’t believe him.

She’d just gone and hadn’t looked back.

“Sweetheart, there are times when you think, and times when you move. And both of them are different kinds of bravery,” he told her.

Different kinds of bravery.

“Do you mean courage?” she asked him.

He cocked his head. He had stitches of his own at the top of his cheekbone. Bruises from his temple to his chin.

“No, courage, that’s something else,” he said, “I’m talking about bravery.”

She didn’t understand. He said that he didn’t have a better way of explaining it. He smoothed her hair back and said that he was glad that she was alive and that she was going to get better.

He’d been the one who’d carried Peter out. He’d had to send her out first because he couldn’t carry both of them.

Mr. Murdock’s voice was raw and hoarse because he’d come running from the fire in the classroom next door and he’d been trying to find Peter. He was the only one who could hear Frank Castle through the fire and the bullets and the creak of the burning building. And Mr. Castle had told him that he couldn’t take both Peter and Michelle.

She remembered now.

Mr. Castle had been talking to himself the whole time they’d been running and hiding through that building. He’d been talking to himself, but he’d really been talking to Mr. Murdock who was trying to find a way in and a way out that wouldn’t get him killed.

There hadn’t been one, there were too many guns. The second she’d started running, Frank Castle had whistled, hard and loud and piercing and all the guns had turned on him.

She didn’t look back.

She thought that he hadn’t either.

“Thank you for saving us,” she told him.

He shook his head.

“Red’s your man, he called me screaming. Man never calls nobody in that tone of voice. You’d have thought y’all were his babies dying in there.”

Okay.

Okay, so was Mr. Murdock okay?

“Nah, girl. I don’t think he is. But I think he’ll get there.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock pretended like he was okay, but the way he wrapped his arms around both Michelle and Peter when they came to his office said that he was very much not. It wasn’t an awkward hug, even though there were two of them.

It was firm.

It was tight.

And Peter started crying and it was hard, really really hard not to join him.

Mr. Murdock let them go and pressed his forehead to Peter’s and said nothing. He just held Peter’s shoulder with one hand and smoothed a hand through his hair with the other. Peter wasn’t making words so much as he was making distressed sounds, but Matt understood him.

“He’s alright, Pete,” he said. “He’s alright.”

Who?

 --

 Wade was fine, somehow. There wasn’t a bullet hole in him. There wasn’t a scratch on him, he claimed, trying to smile and make Peter stop sobbing his heart out.

Matt told him that he wasn’t fucking helping and to just be fucking honest for once in his goddamn life.

Matt’s hands shook a little at his sides. His cuticles were still stained gray from the soot.

Wade looked from him to Peter a little helplessly and then at Michelle and he sobered. He held out an arm for her to come closer.

He was big, too. His ribs felt different from Mr. Castle’s.

“Where’s Ned?” he asked, pressing a hand on the back of Peter’s head to encourage him to direct his upset into his chest.

Ned was at home. Ned’s mom and dad were too upset to let him out of their sight for now.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Wade said. He didn’t hug her as tight as Matt had, he more laid a heavy arm across her shoulders and pulled a bit.

 --

 They weren’t allowed to go back to school. The whole campus was closed, there’d been significant damage to the south side and there were too many photos and crime scenes that needed to be documented.

Peter’s wounds were already mostly healed, while hers ached and burned with every movement.

He apologized for not getting to the room she’d been in faster.

That was some dumbass shit, that was.

“Who did it?” she asked him.

Peter set his jaw.

“We don’t know. Wade and Mr. Castle said they’re finding out. They aren’t letting me or Matt in on it.”

What did that mean?

“I think it means that it’s something bigger than us.”

And what did that mean?

“Uh, maybe bigger isn’t the right word. Lower.”

Lower. Like?

“Someone underground. Deeper in than me and Double D. We’re—we’re mostly surface level. Wade and Mr. Castle, they’re deep under there.”

“Were they trying to kill you, Peter?” she asked him.

He took a long shaky breath.

“I really hope not.”

 ---

 They weren’t trying to kill Peter, Mr. Murdock eventually told them, having had them come to his home for this news. He had them sit on his faux leather couch as he said this.

He was trying to say something without words, Michelle thought.

She thought she was reading it right.

It was personal. This was personal.

“Were they trying to kill you, Matt?” she asked. He shook his head.

No.

They weren’t trying to kill anyone, they’d been trying to draw them out. As many of them as possible.

“They’re taking stock of us,” Matt said to his fists. His knuckles never seemed to heal. “Making lists. They knew a school would bring everyone out and we fell for it like fucking chumps.”

What did that mean?

“Means there’s something big brewing, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That’s not what his knuckles said.

“Peter,” Matt said, “Whoever they are, they’re going to target you. You’re young, that makes you an easy mark. Do not engage, do you understand?”

Peter understood.

 ---

 Peter was hurt. He was hurt every day over the next few weeks. He had bullet wounds and knife wounds and it got to the point where, even after school reopened, he didn’t come back. It wasn’t suspicious, a lot of kids didn’t. Their parents were still terrified, maybe looking into other academies.

Peter was just sleeping. He had to sleep to heal and he had to heal because the second he set foot out the door there was someone there waiting for him and he couldn’t engage. He just had to take it. Suit or no suit.

MJ would have hit back by now, she was amazed that he hadn’t.

“The second I hit back, they’ll take that as permission,” Peter told her quietly at his desk in his room. May had bandaged his arm for him. She wasn’t concerned about school, she didn’t want Peter to even leave the house.

“Permission to do what?” she asked.

“To engage,” Peter said.

What did that mean, though?

“They’ll kill me.”

He couldn’t know that. He couldn’t—

“They don’t care who I am. It’ll be a message. As soon as I hit back, that makes whatever happens next fair game, so I can’t do anything.”

“Can’t Stark help you?” she asked. He sighed and looked at his bandaged wrist.

“If it gets any worse, he and May said I’ll stay with him for a while. But they’ll just move onto the next guy, and then the next guy, until someone engages. We can’t avoid them forever.”

‘We,’ Peter said. That meant that this was beyond him. This was everyone on that list those guys had shot her, stabbed Ned, scared everyone to make. The list that had set their school on fire.

 ---

It got worse.

Peter didn’t come to school.

He couldn’t breathe very well. He slept even more, but not at home. He slept at Stark Tower, where Tony Stark could guard him, because no one else could at the minute.

 ---

 It got worse because they started picking on Matt.

Matt as Mr. Murdock most certainly would not have engaged, but Matt as Matt was struggling. He was very obviously struggling.

Just sit back and take it, was what he had to do. Unlike Peter, who slept and had somewhere to go when things got too bad, Matt didn’t heal and Matt didn’t have anyone to lean on.

He stopped showing up to work.

Neither Foggy or Karen said anything about it. They carried on with the cases and the work and the filing as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing happened. As if they weren’t both suffocating, trying to carry their friend’s pain with their own.

Michelle went to see him and Foggy told her to be as quiet as she could be.

He slept with a broken arm laid up on his chest. He shivered in his sleep. His knuckles weren’t bruised, but his neck was and he didn’t acknowledge anyone who spoke to him.

There was a woman there with him, she was his sister, MJ remembered her. Elektra was watching him with silent, stoic fury in her eyes. It showed nowhere else on her.

“She’s protecting him,” Foggy explained as he made them all tea. “Well, maybe not protecting, but guarding him so he feels like he can sleep.”

There wasn’t anything to say to that, not when Spiderman and Daredevil could only rest in unconsciousness.

“Why are they doing this?” she asked him. Foggy sighed and set the kettle down.

“Because they’re cruel and they’re jealous and they think that this will get them respect,” he said.

Respect.

Psh.

All it did was make her mad.

“If you show them that you’re angry, Michelle, that’s as good as engaging. We can’t let them know that they’re getting to any of us.”

This was bullshit.

 ---

 Bullshit because Matt went to get groceries and didn’t come home and Wade had to go find him. They wouldn’t let Michelle see him, but she heard his sister screaming. She screamed at anyone who touched him, swore that she’d put the lights out of the next person who tried.

Foggy didn’t stop her.

Matt didn’t say anything.

He didn’t come to work and Foggy kept his office door closed.

Karen told Michelle that Elektra had taken Matt somewhere with her, where he would be safe. He wasn’t in Hell’s Kitchen. Elektra wouldn’t say where they’d gone, but she’d sent Foggy pictures so that he knew Matt was safe.

 ---

 It was bullshit because they were too scared to fuck with Wade or Castle, so instead they attacked Hawkeye the younger and Michelle heard through Wade that Hawkguy had nearly exploded in his anger. He couldn’t do anything, of course he couldn’t, that was how this game worked.

But he’d swapped his easy-going persona for the one he used when he worked with the Black Widow.

Wade said it was eerie to see him so quiet and focused. Locked onto his target.

The people trying to pick a fight, well, they were scared of Hawkeye.

 ---

 Not for long. They went in on both of Hawkeyes at the same time and soon Hawkeye the elder reached breaking point and called in the Widow so that he and his partner could get two minutes of peace. Just two.

 ---

 It was interesting how the second the Widow got involved, everything went topsy turvy.

Michelle had passed by the place where Wade had told her the Widow was standing guard and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Then she realized that whoever these guys were, they were really, really scared of the Widow.

Not so high and mighty now, huh, boys?

They abandoned the Hawkeyes and went after Jessica Jones.

 ---

 It went on and on like this for two, three, maybe even four weeks. People took as much as they could. They picked themselves up. Some limped into the offices of Nelson, Murdock and Page. Some limped, watched carefully by people, in the street.

They were stopped at all hours by guys in plain clothes who struck out without warning. Threw fists. Feet. Spat on people. And instead of fighting back, local bodies threw them off and ran away. Avoided confrontation. Put walls and doors and fences between themselves and the others as much as they could.

It was, in a way, amazing.

The level of restraint was super human.

 ---

 Then the new kids got cocky and shoved the Winter Soldier.

They were in for a lesson.

Michelle saw the conflict on the news. Five guys throwing themselves at Bucky Barnes, who was trying to buy a bottle of whiskey in peace.

He ignored them, counted out exact change.

He walked right through their group on the way out the door and they parted around him, then followed him out of the convenience store.

Camera phone footage showed him walking home, being heckled by these creeps. A few blocks, presumably, from his home he stopped walking and the gang of people drew in close around him.

And then they all leapt back.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t taking their shit, he’d apparently decided. Loud enough to be heard from the cameraman’s place across the street, he shouted, “Y’all have one more chance to get the fuck out of my way.”

Let no one say he didn’t warn them.

They went down hard and they went down fast and they all went down within a minute of each other.

Bucky Barnes held a guy by his throat and told them to call their motherfucking leader, he wanted to have a chat.

It was the beginning of the end.

 ---

 Do not engage went right out the window and MJ woke up to her phone sending her six thousand alerts not to take such-and-such road or to approach such-and-such area.

The news showed her Peter slamming his fist into a man’s face like he was born to do it.

The Man in the Mask was out in broad daylight, stalking towards those people who were suddenly trying to escape him. He picked them up and dropped them without so much as breaking the rhythm of his pace.

Ironman beat the shit out of twelve people in the company courtyard.

Hawkeye had switched his bow for a rifle.

The general advice from all city personnel was to stay the fuck inside.

This was war.

 ---

 And then it was over.

And everything was cleaned up and bodies were carted off if they were found.

Peter arrived to school.

Matt reappeared in his office.

They carried on like nothing had happened. But there was something about the aftermath of silence that made the day of brutality so much more violent.

Neither of them were smiling. They were cold, thawing slowly.

Michelle thought of all the things they weren’t saying.

She thought she heard their combined bodies whisper, this is my city. This is our city. Get with it or go the fuck home.

She didn’t know if it made her feel better, but it certainly made her feel safe.

 --------

[theeslytherinslut]

A Shit Tutor (4/?)

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x reader, Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader 

Word Count: 1,581 

Warnings: language, none

A/N: sorry for the hiatus guys! Some of you guys now but I’m in college and nearing the end of the semester so the workload is getting more intense. And on top of that I’m working on writing an actual book lol. So a lot going on rn but I’ll try to work out a more regular posting schedule. Anyway, thanks for reading!!!

~Masterlist~

“Up! Up! Up!” your alarm clock chirped, excited to fulfill its role. 

“Alright,” you moaned into your pillow, turning onto your side. 

“Did you hear me? It’s time to get up!” it chirped once more. 

“I heard you! I’ll be up in a minute,” you whined, eyes still heavy with sleep. 

“The first to rise is always most wise!” it sang; your mother thought the clock was quite funny, especially knowing how grumpy you were in the mornings.  

“Fucking fine! I’m up! You obnoxiously cheerful sodding clock,” you grumped, rolling out of your bed. 

“Always such a pleasure,” the clock quipped back before the gears resembling eyes slid closed once more. 

“I was just about to wake you myself,” Jal said, poking her head around the corner, grinning at you as she braided her hair back. You merely grunted in response, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. “You always were a graceful riser.”

Shooting her a glare, she grinned and disappeared back into her section of the room. Yawning, you pulled a brush through your hair and clipped it up and out of your face, dawning your uniform for the day. Just as you were finished tying your tie, Jal called out to you. 

“C’mon, we’ve already missed breakfast. I’m not being late to McGonagall for you,” she warned. Realizing she was right, you cursed under your breath and slung your bag onto your shoulder, jogging after Jal. 

The morning had been hell, you’d forgotten your report for McGonagall in your dorms, and even though it was done, the witch had taken 5 points for not having with you. In Ancient Runes, you’d been half asleep when Professor Babbling called on you--you gave the wrong answer. Jal’s snickers all throughout were of no help to your mood, and by lunch, you were positively bitchy. 

“Sweet Salazar, someone’s got their knickers in a bunch this morning, haven’t they?” Jal said, looking amused at your grumpy face. 

“It would help if you weren’t so goddamn giggly. Old McGonagall takes 5 points, and it’s somehow funny to you,” you pouted, lowering your eyes at her as the two of you stepped into the Great Hall. As you walked past the Gryffindor table, you could’ve sworn you heard the gangly redhead say your name, but when you turned to throw daggers, the bushy-haired girl that was always with them quickly hushed him up so you couldn’t be sure. 

“If you weren’t the one getting points taken, you wouldn’t be so bitchy,” Jal sighed as you glared at the three. Harry looked up and started at the malice in your face, but the girl with them snapped her fingers and called his attention once more. 

“Yeah, well, it was me, wasn’t it?” you grumped as the two of you came to the Slytherin table; just as you were about to slide onto the bench, you heard your name. 

“Y/N!” a nearby voice called. Shocked, you looked to find a pale hand waving you up the table. Looking over at Jal, she wore the look you imagined was on your face as well and shrugged. 

“Go on,” she said after a moment, waving you on. 

“Y/N!” the voice called again. 

“Go!” she called again, waving her hands at you as she moved to sit. 

“Come with me!” you called, suddenly intensely nervous. 

“What?” she said, suddenly looking scared. 

“Come on!” you hissed, grasping her wrist tightly and dragging her along with you. She resisted for a minute, but as the two of you got closer, she recovered and walked with you. 

“Yes?” you said, stopping in front of Draco as he smirked at you. Turning around in his seat across from Draco, you felt Jal stiffen as Blaise’s eyes traveled along her figure. 

“Jaltrece, right?” he smirked, his voice like butter. Looking at him now, you could definitely see the appeal. His jaw was simply unforgiving and the muscles tensed as he looked at Jal; she seemed to have lost her voice. His dark eyes were alight with amusement at her awkwardness, and it was a moment before you could pull your eyes from him. As fair as Blaise was dark, sitting across from him was Draco, grinning at you in amusement as well. 

“Jal,” she choked out after an awkward pause. Clearing her throat, she spoke again. “It’s Jal.” 

“Jal,” he repeated, and you could have sworn you saw her knees tremble a bit. “Care to sit?” 

Words failing her, she nodded dumbly and slid into the spot next to him. Gesturing with his own arm, Draco beckoned you to the other side of the table. Walking around it, you smiled sheepishly and slid into the spot next to him. 

“Thought we might sit together. How’s your morning?” he asked as he buttered a biscuit. 

“Pretty shit, honestly. Forgot my Transfiguration report, so McGonagall took 5 points, then I gave the wrong answer in Ancient Runes, not to mention the bloody staircase changed on the way here, so I got lost for a bit,” you sighed. 

“I’ll never understand why they made the sodding staircases change--as if the castle wasn't confusing enough,” he agreed, shaking his head. “Father says it was Rowena Ravenclaw who insisted on it; I thought the Ravenclaws were supposed to be intelligent.” 

“Nothing says intelligence like unnecessarily enchanting the staircases in an utterly massive castle to get you lost,” you sighed, filling your plate. He laughed lightly, and you snuck a look at him as he did so; his true smiles were so rare. “Besides, have you seen that one Ravenclaw?” 

“Which one?” he asked, grinning. 

“The airhead; the one who wears bloody radishes for jewelry,” you laughed.

“The one who follows after Potter and his followers like a bloody puppy dog? Loony?” he asked, looking annoyed as he spoke of Harry. 

“Loony?” you laughed.

“You haven’t heard her nickname? I thought everyone had,” he laughed back, lifting his goblet to his lips. 

“Evidently not. Nobody tells me anything--that’s incredible, Loony, ha!” you laughed again. Draco smiled at you and seemed to study your face. Feeling slightly uncomfortable at his intense attention, you let your Y/C/H hair curtain over your face. 

“So, were you planning on a Hogsmeade trip this weekend? It’s the first of the year,” he asked conversationally. 

“Probably. Jal here is a sugar addict; she never misses a Honeydukes trip,” you teased. She scowled darkly at you. 

“Blaise keeps a stash of pepper imps underneath his bed; he isn’t the only sugar addict,” Draco said, grinning as well at his friend. 

“Careful, Malfoy. I think what you keep hidden under your bed is a bit more interesting,” Blaise said darkly. Obviously, your interest was piqued. Looking at Draco, you found his features paler than normal and started a bit at the intensity in his glare. Nobody glared like a Malfoy glared. 

“Touche, Zabini,” he muttered darkly, his smugness leaking back into his face as he noticed you watching. “Fancy a partner?” 

“Sorry?” you asked, almost choking on your chip. 

“To Hogsmeade? How would you fancy accompanying me?” Draco asked, turning on his charm as he smirked at you. Dazed, you felt your heart rate pick up in your chest. 

“Er, yeah. Yes, I, uh, I suppose that would be alright,” you said, trying to sound appeasingly nonchalant. Looking up, you saw Jal smirking and knew you failed. 

“Excellent, I’ll meet you in the courtyard after breakfast on Saturday?” he smiled. 

“It’s a date,” you smiled back, but then your insides turned ice cold. “Shit, er, didn’t mean it like that. Was just trying to be funny.” 

Your face was positively burning hot; it seemed it had leeched all of the blood from your body. Cursing yourself internally, you bit the inside of your cheek and hoped to Godric he’d let it go.

“It’s a date,” he repeated and delivered a swift kiss to your cheek. Shocked, you actually choked on the chip headed down your throat this time. Coughing violently, you were all too aware of the eyes now watching you. Despite all your coughing, your body couldn’t seem to dislodge the piece of food, and breathing was impossible; though, if you were to die right there, you didn’t think you'd mind too much. I mean, here you were actually choking to death because Draco Malfoy had asked you on a date and gave your cheek a kiss. 

“Apapneo,” you heard suddenly. Surprised, but cherishing the air now flowing to your lungs, you gave a grateful smile to your savior. 

“Try to chew next time, yes?” 

To your utter annoyance, Snape was the one who happened to be passing by to get to the staff table at the time of your choking. 

“Right, thank you, Professor,” you forced through grit teeth. Without another word, Snape began making his way up once more. 

“You are the only Slytherin I’ve ever met that Snape actively dislikes,” Blaise said after a moment. 

“You’re telling me!” you sighed exasperatedly. “All because I’m not too good at Potions,” 

The three of them gave you a look, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Alright, alright. I’m rubbish, I know, thank you,” you said, offering them your favorite finger. And because why wouldn’t you be, you were caught. 

“Ms. Y/L/N!” you heard. Closing your eyes, you let out a deep breath; it was simply not your day. “Another 5 from Slytherin,” McGonagall quipped. 

“I am on a roll today,” you sighed. If you didn’t start finding humor in the events of the day, someone was going to be dead by sunrise. 

[stuck-in1]

These drunk confessions - Part 2

Pairing: Park Jongseong (Jay) x OC (Im Haeyoon) Genre: Fluff | A little angst | College AU | Friends to enemies to lovers TW: cursing | mentions of alcohol and getting wasted | please let me know if there are any I should add

These drunk confessions | Part 1 | Part 3

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Part 2: Jay

Three days since that fucking incident, three days since I last went out of my apartment, and I haven’t spoken to anyone since then. I’ve done nothing but to wallow in misery due to me being humiliated in front of the student body plus the fact that she hated me.

Why is she so mad at me? Fuck if I did anything to her, she was the one who broke it off, since she liked another guy, not me. It’s also a fucking mystery that she liked Park Sunghoon before—not that he was bad looking or anything, but the dude had the personality of a rock! If he wasn’t good looking, then he’d be a nobody!

Speaking of, it must be him calling again, but the caller ID says otherwise—it was Aerin. Why is she calling me, is there an emergency?

“Hey, Aerin. What’s up?” Since she didn’t call nor text as much, I was curious.

“What’s up is why you’re ignoring your friends who are worried sick! Heeseung went to your apartment twice but you didn’t even open the door for him. The others are already at their wits end trying to figure out what your problem is! It’s Jake’s birthday today and he can’t even be happy about it because he’s bothered—"

“I’m okay Ae-“

“Did I ask if you’re fucking okay, Park Jongseong?! Do you think hiding from everyone because you got slapped by my bestfriend justifies your actions? From what I’ve heard, you brought it upon yourself!”

“Why are you taking it against me? I’m the one that got slapped, not you nor the guys! Your friend has issues, I didn’t even do anything to her!” I half yelled, too frustrated and confused, I have been in this dilemma for the past 8 months, if they only knew.

After a few seconds of silence, Aerin seemed to have calm as well, “Whatever’s between you, talk it out, okay?”

“She blocked me, if you must know. She wouldn’t even look at me.”

“You should probably stop insulting her and giving snide remarks, i don’t know why you can’t be civil with her, what did she ever do to you?”

She fucking left me for someone else, she broke my heart. Fuck. “Nothing.”

“I swear to God, Jay. Even Niki doesn’t measure up to your maturity at this point. If you don’t come to Jake’s party tonight, the guys will talk to your parents.”

“Fine! I’ll be there.” I fibbed just to make her lay off me.

There is a possibility that I’d see Haeyoon later, and I’m not sure if I’m prepared to. Anyway, if I decide to go, she won’t be the reason, it’d be because it’s Jake’s day—even if that asshole is set to ask her out, he’s still one of my bestfriends.

What if the two started dating? Will I be able to move on from all this?

It’s just hard to accept that she’s no longer part of my life.

Haeyoon is Mika’s, my cousin, friend from their high school—we met at my cousin’s graduation party. Haeyoon’s a head turner, not only beautiful, but elegant. Her movements were so refined that I thought she’d be boring, but man, was I so wrong!

We were at the hotel’s ballroom, people watching, when she excused herself. At the ten minute mark, I saw her rushing towards me—she then pulled my hand and dragged me outside of the ballroom towards the pool area.

Apparently, she stole a bottle of Riesling and one of the staff almost caught her. We drank straight from the bottle like two underage alcoholics without a care in the world. The night that we both lost our virginity to each other, spent the rest of the evening until dawn just talking as we waited for the first sunrise of our summer.

The following day, I drove her home and ended up meeting her parents, they invited me to have lunch with them until I became a staple in their household, sometimes having dinner with her and her parents, or staying the night, she also did the same—coming over during the weekends or joining my family on our short trips. My parents adore her, I know exactly why.

When the new school year started, she suggested that we shouldn’t be obvious in campus, she doesn’t want anyone finding out about us since it’s like a friends with benefits thing—I agreed. She also didn’t want her bestfriend to get the wrong idea about us, I didn’t think much of it until I’ve noticed that a lot of guys have been approaching her, trying to get her attention. I became insecure as the idea of her liking someone else did not sit well with me, if that happens, it means it’s gonna be over between us, no questions asked.

Sunghoon and Heeseung, two of my long-time friends, got to know her as well, and I made it a point to tell them to not allow any male student near her, my plan was successful, and lucky for me, they did not question my motives. It was then that I knew my feelings were starting to materialize.

Then Jake came into picture junior year, and started showing interest in her and it was a relief that she did not give him the time of the day. I never asked her about Jake, I did not want her to get the wrong idea, as long as we were okay, I’d be fine with that. That was until the party they’ve hosted for Jake.

Mom wanted me to bring my cousin Mika and two of her friends to wherever I was going that night, saying something about being cordial to our guests since they were visiting over the weekend. So I told Haeyoon that I won’t be able to go to her place after. That night was a blur, I remember getting kissed by one of my cousin’s friend in Heeseung’s balcony and I just let her, thinking it was Yoon, but turns out it’s not. That was also the same exact moment I realized that I can’t be with someone unless it’s her.

So I immediately ran downstairs to frantically look for her, Aerin said she already went home, not feeling well. As an act of desperation when I rushed to the front door, stumbling a few times, forcing myself to walk straight to where my car was parked. Heeseung and Sunghoon stopped me when I told them that I’d be driving to her place. They forced me to stay, and took my car keys from me, making sure I didn’t do anything stupid. I called her multiple times that night, even sent her messages but I got no response, which was fairly odd, considering that she never misses to reply.

Monday came sooner, the only message I got from her was that she went home to her parents and that she’d call me, but heard nothing after. Frustration was slowly building up—I went to her apartment, let myself in but found nothing.

Yoon did not attend her morning classes either, I’ve been asking the guys nonstop on her whereabouts, but no one knew. Aerin was already getting suspicious of me but didn’t ask further, it was a relief since I didn’t want to tell her anything that Yoon may have not told her yet, and if she questioned me, I know I’d break.

A couple of days later, I finally got a text from her, only to say that she wanted to end things as she’s now liking someone else. I bombarded her with calls and messages until she switched off her phone, I wanted to talk to her, in person at least, I was planning to tell her everything and if she didn’t accept me, I’d let her be. The closure I wanted, I never got.

It was Sunghoon, the guy she liked. I had to find out from grapevine that it was him. It felt like I was cheated on, yet Sunghoon had no clue on Yoon and I’s status.

As soon as I had the chance, I confronted Sunghoon, one on one, and interrogated if he was making a move on her. He denied everything, saying that they were just friends, nothing more. I was lost, not sure who to believe then. My like seemingly went upside down because she left me—Park Jongseong was the perfect definition of tragedy.

Our most recent interaction wasn’t any better, and it was my fault I got triggered. She has never called me Jay, it was always Jongseong, Jongseongie, Seong, but never Jay. She specifically implied that it was only for people not close to me—now that she’s calling me Jay, it simply meant I was a mere acquaintance.

Again, my phone buzzed, it was my mother this time. “Hi mom.”

“Jongseong, where are you?”

“I’m in my apartment, why?”

“Your friends are here, Heeseung is here looking for you, with Sunghoon and Niki. Why are you hiding from your friends? Where is Haeyoon? I knew something was wrong she didn’t go here for our anniversary, did you cheat on her?! I swear to God Jongseong, you won’t meet anyone better than her-“

I cut her off with her ramblings, “mom! The guys will hear you!”

“So what if they hear me? Have you been hiding her?!”

“She’s not even my girlfriend mom,” I whined, what is it with women these days and nagging? “and it’s not like she wants to be my girlfriend.”

“You’re indeed your father’s son. I can’t believe you didn’t see how much she cares about you, I know I’m your mother and I’m supposed to support you, but if you don’t win her back, don’t think about going home, and that’s final.”

“What the fuck, mom?!”

“Language, young man. I will have a word with your friends.”

“Don’t tell them anything mom! I swear it’s no-“ I did not even get to finish my sentence when she hang up. I can’t believe she’s disowning me because of Haeyoon! I am her only son, my God! That woman is so petty! How did she even become my mother?!

Truthfully, I’m not prepared to tell the guys about this however I’m pretty sure that they now know more than I want to tell them. I took the quickest shower ever and rushed back home, after I messaged them in our group chat: Heeseung, Sunghoon and Niki, do not leave! Wait for me there and do not listen to that woman!

Unsure of how many stop signs I’ve ran over, I got home in record time—25 minutes! As soon as I got off my car, I spotted the three of them with my mother at our patio. My mom already giving me a condemning face as soon as she saw me, oh God, I’m gonna be homeless!

“Hey, mom, guys!” I casually greeted them, acting cool while my inner turmoil suggests otherwise.

“Sit down Jongseong.” Okay, I’m in trouble. The three were stifling a laugh, they were not the most subtle bunch. “What’s this I hear that you’ve been going out with different women every week?!”

I’m going to kill all of you. I mouthed those words to them which didn’t help with their case, Heeseung snorted, the other two were in hysterics.

“Did you break up with Haeyoon or you cheated on her, she found out then broke up with you?”

“Mooom, she’s not even my girlfriend, I told you.” I insinuated in sort of whisper-shouting manner, “she’s going to kill me if she finds out they know.”

“Don’t worry, man. She won’t get mad.” Sunghoon assured me, a little too apprehensive if you ask me.

“Are you planning something? What are you guys planning?!”

“I’ll leave you boys be, you guys are staying for dinner,” mom then stood up, “Please talk to your friend, he needs a good beating.”

The boys chuckled and had the nerve to approve of what she just said. “Stop acting like you’re my mother’s sons.”

“What, it’s funny!” Sunghoon mused, “Heeseung believed that Jake was so serious about Haeyoon!”

Niki looked at Sunghoon wide eyed while hitting his arm, “Fucking retard!”

“Watch your language, Niki!” I warned the youngest, “what did you say?”

“Just go to the party later, Jake’s expecting all of us.” Heeseung exclaimed, getting my attention from the other two.

“Why? I have school work to finish.”

“I’m your classmate in most of your classes, deadlines aren’t until the end of the month, so that’s three weeks from now.”

“Come on, Jongsaeng-mon… we haven’t seen you in three days!“

“Stop referring to me as if I’m your Pokemon!” I snarled at Sunghoon, “Come on guys, I’m not in the mood. Besides, I also need some me time.”

“Heeseung will buy you lunch for a whole month.” Niki offered.

“I don’t need that, I’m rich.”

Niki huffed, “well, not if we tell auntie. You’d be homeless and poor!”

This kid is evil, they again didn’t give me much choice so I was forced to say yes, already regretting my decision.

After a few more lectures from my mom during dinner, we made our way to wherever the party was. Mom warned me again that I shouldn’t step foot in this house in the future if I don’t have Haeyoon with me. It’s as if she’d talk to me again after what happened.

It felt like being abducted by my own friends—they didn’t even let me bring my own car, making sure that I can’t leave anytime. Plus Jungwon and Niki are staying over, they made sure that I also do the same.

“Where are we going?” I asked Heeseung when I realized that the direction we’re going to is a bit different than our usual route.

 “Jake rented a penthouse suite, he says something about his parents being home, so we needed to go to a different place.”

Sketchy, but okay. Whatever. He might’ve rented the whole club or something, that’s what he always does. He doesn’t like the hassle of cleaning up the following day, pretty smart actually.

What I wasn’t told was that he booked a penthouse suite in Hyatt in Gangnam and only a select few were invited. By select few, meaning it was only our circle.

“Hey man, I thought you wouldn’t make it!” Jake got me into headlock as soon as he saw me and dragged me inside to where the supposed living room is.

“Dude, be thankful it’s your birthday or else!” I laughed along with him as I try to fight back, but Jake was somewhat stronger.

“I just didn’t expect to see you, I thought I’d have to drag your ass out of your apartment!”

“That’s what we did actually,” Sunghoon chimed in, “We had to go to his parents’ house just to make him come out. It’s pathetic!”

“Take it easy on Jongseong,” Aerin shushed the two, “go, freshen up,“ she pushed me to one bedrooms, as Niki handed me my rucksack, “we’ll just prep the food.”

“Oh yes, yes! Chill for a bit,” Jake was on it too, everyone within the radius exchanging knowing glances, acting suspicious if I may add, “Go!”

As I was pushed inside the room, the door behind me closed almost immediately, to which I forced to open it but it’s somehow stuck from the other side. “What the fuck guys?! Open up!” I was banging on the door at the same time.

“Will let you out in an hour, I swear!” I think that was Heeseung’s voice.

“Yeah, an hour or so. We won’t let you out unless you two talk!” That was definitely Sunghoon… wait, us two?

“Why the hell are you so loud?!” Someone from behind me suddenly spoke, which fucking gave me a heart attack, “and what are you doing here, Jay?” Ah, the love of my life who saw me as nothing but a nuisance.

“Hey Haeyoon… Um, I guess they locked us in.”

She sighed and walked towards the door, tried opening it, and banged it as well, “Fucking morons! Let us out, you dumb shits! I SWEAR ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE I’LL -“

I placed both of my hands on each shoulder as I lightly pulled her away from the door and had her sit on the edge of the bed, it was a hopeless case especially when we both heard Sunghoon and Jake’s obnoxious hooting.

“It’s pointless, these guys are assholes to begin with.” I told her.

“Obviously.” she muttered while typing angrily at her phone, the message was sent to our group chat, I almost chortled when I read the message full of profanities, definitely not threatening, but cute, “Why are you laughing? Do you think this is funny?!” Oh, oh! I’m unblocked? I can read her messages again, WTF!

“I’m sorry, I was smiling, not laughing.” I corrected her which made her glare even more. It was meant to be a joke but she took it negatively.

Her back was against the headboard and damn it, even with no makeup on, she looks beautiful. More beautiful than anyone I’ve met—this is bringing me back to the time I've first met her.

Maybe God has a weird way of answering my prayers—I’m taking this as a sign from the heavens, plus I don’t want our friends’ efforts go to waste.

“How are you, Yoon?” I sat on the side of the bed near her, but still kept a good distance, in case she wanted to hurt me again.

She raised her left eyebrow at me, “and you’re asking because?”

Maybe because I miss you and it’s been almost a year since we last talked? “Just asking.”

A sigh escaped her lips the nth time in the last thirty minutes or so, “I’m sorry. It’s just, we’re no longer on speaking terms, it’s weird that you’re asking me this, but to answer your question, I’m fine. I hope you are too.”

“I am,” I hesitated to continue, not knowing what to say further.

“You know we don’t have to talk just because they locked us here. We can always go back to pretending that’s we’re not close once they let us out, just be civil.”

“Pretending we weren’t close didn’t do us any good, Yoon, and you know that.”

“Maybe it was meant to end, Jay. Maybe we weren’t even meant to be friends.”

“Don’t say that, please.” I begged, I reached out to both her hands and kissed it, “I���m sorry for being a jerk, I just—I didn’t know how to handle being away from you. I didn’t know what to do with my life, you became a big part of it in a short span of time. Can we just go back to how it was? Please Haeyoon?”

My tears are already threatening to spill, I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t afford to lose her again. I’d go insane, it’d be now or never.

She retracted her hands, insisted that I let go, “You mean go back to having sex then keeping it as a secret? I don’t think so.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I know you like Sunghoon, or maybe Jake, I don’t know,” I took a deep breath, to make sure I won’t mess up my words again, “Haeyoon, I won’t tell you to stop liking them or whatever, what I’m asking for is to just let me be there for you again, let me spend time with you like before, let me do things for you, drive you wherever you need to go, anything, just please. I don’t know how I can function again without you in my life.”

“Why are you doing this, Jongseong?” her voice softens, “I can’t take advantage of you like that. I can’t do that to you.”

“Because I love you, Im Haeyoon. Since freshman year, I think. I just didn’t want to tell you as I thought it may frighten you away.” She froze at my confession, now this is scaring me—she’s going to reject me that’s for sure, but at least I told—

“You’re a fucking idiot, Park Jongseong.” She wiped her now damp eyes with the back of her hand, “you’re a fucking idiot!”

“I’m sorry if this is something that’s not expected, I just wanted to tell you at least before you decide to cut ties with me again. I’ve loved you—no, I love you since then, and that hasn’t changed, not one bit.”

“You could’ve just told me before, you’re aware of that right?” She’s now smiling through her tears, even laughing at this whole situation, “we could’ve avoided all this drama you know?”

“What do you mean? So we could’ve ended it sooner?”

“God, you’re so dense. You really are. Although I’m not any better…” she muttered.

Dense? Because what, you’re rejecting me for someone else? As of this moment, I’m not sure which is more acceptable, getting rejected because of your bestfriend or because of someone you don’t know.

“What are you thinking about Jongseongie?” she placed both her hands on each side of my face and gave me a quick peck on my lips, what the fuck? My brain short circuited and didn’t know how to react. “You’re an idiot, and I’m inlove with you.”

“You—you are—with me? Seriously?”

“Who else? You want me to take it back?”

“NO! No of course not! You’re mine.” I blurted out so suddenly, “I’m sorry, I mean-“

“I love you Park Jongseong, I really do. It’s just I thought you were going end things with me after I saw you kissing someone else at Heeseung’s party. I thought me ending things abruptly would be better for the both of us, and I dreaded the idea that you would want it to stop.”

I was about to say something but she interrupted me, “Wait, let me finish. I need to let it all out or I’ll forget.” It was very typical of her, to forget things, “So I accidentally confessed that I liked Sunghoon, which wasn’t true by the way.”

“You put him on the spot!” I gasped, making fun of her, “Poor Sunghoon, he must’ve been traumatized!”

She lightly tapped my cheek and chuckled, “You’re so mean! But anyway, I already came clean, a few days ago.”

“Just a few days ago?! And we all thought…”

“The guys told me you were the only one who thought that, apparently they all knew about us because you have drunk confessed to everyone!”

“That is not true!” I strongly denied, “Who told you this? It’s really not true.”

“Well,” she pondered, “there’s Sunoo, Sunghoon, Niki and Jungwon may have mentioned something. You’ve been telling them things apparently… like I left you for someone else? Dude, we’re not even dating! Do you want me to ask them again?”

“No, please. Don’t! I love you, okay? That’s what’s important!” I insisted, but the things I do when I’m drunk were pretty much buried in the ditch, memories have been vague.

The door suddenly opened, good thing we weren’t in a compromising position. “Are you lovebirds done? It has been more than an hour and food is ready!” It was the birthday boy.

“We’re good,” Haeyoon stood up, and smiled at him. She took my hand and pulled me towards the door.

“We’re good? That’s it?” I whispered, “aren’t we discussing our relationship status at least?”

She just shrugged and walked away, smirking, as she joined the others in the kitchen—what the fuck was that? Where do we stand?

“So…?” Ah, Jake and Jungwon obviously asking for what transpired within the room.

“What?” I asked irritatingly, “What do you want?” I threw myself to the nearest couch, completely ignoring the two. Unfortunately for me, the two couldn’t take a hint and joined me.

“What ‘what’? We’re asking what’s going on between you two now? Did you finally ask her out?” Jungwon nudged.

“Are you finally dating?” Jake also probed, a little too eager.

“Get away from me you two!” I tried so hard to shoo them away but I remember her kissing me just a while back. Right then and there, a grin escaped my lips—they’ll never let me hear the end of it!

Their teasing might have attracted Sunoo, who was now walking towards us wearing that mischievous smirk, followed by Sunghoon—fuck my life! I'm just not ready for this...

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These drunk confessions | Part 1 | Part 3

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