#im going crazy i shouldn’t have played this i need to finish my last assignment first. n then i can lose my mind over claude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honsoolie · 4 years

Text

don’t rush | 02

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, eventual smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings (for this chapter only): mentions of stage fright/performance anxiety, swearing, sexual references, slight angst, dad jokes :|

words: 6k

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: didn’t plan to take this long for an update, life gets in the way, you know the drill. read 01 here and as always, this is crossposted to ao3 :)

When you get inside, the warmth welcomes you in. You’re not quite sure if it’s from the heating in the hallway or how Yoongi’s eyes had shone in the moonlight. You lean against the inner door frame, a happy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, legs a little weak in the knee. You feel light-headed, maybe from being up late, maybe from your exhausting day, maybe from the lingering remnants of Yoongi’s cologne.

Did that really just happen? Did he really just ask for your number? Was this all a dream?

The euphoria is short-lasting, however. You still have some assignments waiting for you, and only a couple hours left until your morning classes. The tiredness never lets up, and your limbs heavy again as you make your way inside the lobby of your dorm.

Unknown number (2:47am): hi this is yoongi

Unknown number (2:47am): did you get inside ok?

You (2:48am): yeah

You (2:48am): did u?

Yoongi (2:50am): im walking back now

Yoongi (2:50am): you should sleep soon ://

You (2:51am): I still have hw :(

You (2:51am): text me when ur back inside too

Yoongi (2:53am): lmaoo is it counterpoint hw

Yoongi (2:54am): it’s so sweet that you care for my safety ;(

You (2:54am): yes sadly

You (2:55am): ofc I care, we can’t have our amazing star pianist get hurt

Yoongi (2:55am): im home now

Yoongi (2:58am): you have a thing for praise, don’t you

Even though you can’t see him, you splutter alone in your room, roommate fast asleep. There is no way that means what you think it means.

You (3:00am): idk where u got that from

You (3:03am): maybe i do, you’ll have to find out

Yoongi (3:04am): I would, but you have to finish your analysis worksheet :/

You (3:15am): ugh, fuck it

You (3:15am): im going to sleep

You (3:15am): ill just wake up early tomorrow to finish it before class

Yoongi (3:16am): what? No goodnight? >:(

Yoongi (3:17am): some manners you have

Yoongi (3:17am): what a rude girl

You (3:18am): aw have i been bad?

You (3:18am): I’m sooooo sorry

You (3:19am): gn

The minutes tick by, and you grow more indignant than you should. Is he serious?

Who doesn’t say goodnight back? Maybe you scared him off. Maybe all this “flirtatious” banter was just how Yoongi talked to his friends. How would you know? You don’t know anything about him.

The same insidious doubt creeps back in. Maybe this is all a game to him. Maybe he just wanted to introduce himself to another music student in the department, you all were supposed to know each other anyway. Maybe, worst of all, he had really only meant to wake you up in the music building as a simple courtesy, no intent behind it. You groan as you sink into your bed, cradling your head in your hands.

You (3:27am): some hypocrite you are

Yoongi (3:30am): I was in the showerrr relax

Yoongi (3:31am): hm you have been bad

Yoongi (3:33am): maybe I should punish you

You (3:29am): u wish

You (3:30am): but goodnight for real, we have class in five hours :”(

Yoongi (3:31am): goodnight

Yoongi (3:31am): save me a spot next to you

You were in the world’s smallest big crisis.

Was Yoongi actually serious when he asked you to save a seat? Or were you just indulging in wishful thinking? Was he flirting with you last night? And if he was, what are you supposed to do now?

Whatever he meant, you would have to face him now.

The endless litany of maybes and what-ifs grows louder in your head, even louder than last night during your text correspondence with him.You elect to use your backpack to save the seat next to you as class time draws nearer, chiding yourself for overthinking something so casual, but it does nothing to soothe your existential anxiety.

“Thanks for saving me a spot, I’m so glad you remembered.” A voice brings you out of your reverie. It takes a moment to register who it is at first. Your eyes meet the traditional college garb first, sweatpants and an overwashed fundraising t-shirt, then the half-tamed cowlick, that ever-present cup of coffee. Your breath catches in your throat, breathtaking despite the casual circumstances. It’s just another class lecture, you chastise yourself, but your gut twists nonetheless.

Seeing Yoongi in such close quarters is still an adjustment for you, his presence (or even the thought of being close to him) a shock to your body. You had spent so much time languishing after him that even now, it still feels like waking up into a dream.

You clear your throat, stalling, “Yeah, putting my backpack in the seat next to mine was sooo hard. You should compensate me for my labor.”

You try to put on the flirty smile that you were wearing last night, but it feels like a grimace. God, you are way too nervous for this.

You realize you’ll never get tired of the way he laughs at your shitty jokes, the way his shoulders shake and eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Yeah, I will, don’t you worry about that.” He sinks into the seat next to you and doesn’t spare you a second glance.

Dr. Won walks in, the picture of put-togetherness, killing whatever flirty response you had formulated.

You thought you had enjoyed having a crush before, but admiring someone and imagining a life together from afar was worlds away from talking and sitting next to said object of affection. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You shouldn’t be tripping all over yourself when Yoongi sits next to you in lecture.

Whatever Dr. Won is saying is drowned out by Yoongi sitting next to you. It feels deeply unfair how he affects you, when he gets to sit next to you like nothing important is happening. It’s just another day in lecture, preparing for the midterms coming up.

He’s not even doing anything, minding his own business. You shouldn’t be swooning when he is just sitting there, again bouncing his leg, taking diligent notes. From the furtive glances you steal, even his handwriting is attractive. Endearing, even if it was a little messy and looping over the printed lines.

True fact: the only reason why Yoongi fidgets so much is because of the effect you had on him. It drives him up the wall, the way you keep tucking your hair behind your ear. He envies your unfaltering concentration, the look in your eye when you see something on the Powerpoint slides that you have to jot down.

Yoongi can’t stand to silently sit next to you without doing anything anymore. Taking his pen, he scrawls on the corner of your neat notes. He knows it’ll piss you off, but that’s the reaction that he wants.

do you have any idea what is going on

He watches carefully for your reaction. Satisfaction creeps into his neutral expression when you notice, confusion turning into what could only be a lovestruck smile, and then into an irritated grimace. Fuck, even the curve of your wrist was enough to drive him crazy. You pick up your pen, writing back.

No, stop writing on my stuff

Okay, new plan, Yoongi concedes. He settles for writing on the corner of his own notes, tearing off the corner. He slips the paper into your lap, fingertips skimming the top of your thigh. He doesn’t notice, but he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

don’t you think dr. won dresses like an old hag

You write back on the scrap of paper:

actually you could learn a thing or two from her

Yoongi smirks, in classic Yoongi fashion.

You know I would rock a long skirt like her

Yoongi watches you read his message, smile, and then tuck the note into your notebook.

After class, Dr. Won reminds everyone of the midterm coming up two weeks from now, and that’s when Yoongi senses an opportunity. The two of you walk out of class together, forced to walk side by side because of the student foot traffic.

“Do you like, want to study together sometime?” Yoongi blurts out, louder than he needs to be, even among the hum of the other students.

He clears his throat. “I mean, we’ve shared a lot of classes, so.”

You can’t help but laugh in surprise, or maybe incredulousness. You resist the urge to let the satisfaction show on your face. “I didn’t know you ever noticed.”

“Of course I did. You’re like, the biggest nerd on the planet.” Even when Yoongi is teasing you, he can’t help but sound bashful.

You gasp in mock offense. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.” You both stop, standing at the mouth of the lecture hall.

“Of course not.” He’s awfully close to you, close enough that you can see the mole on the tip of his nose. “That’s why I’m asking you to be my study buddy.”

It’s not necessary to be standing this close. Sure, the hallway is busy, but not that busy.

“Study buddy? That sounds lame.” You scoff, playing hard to get. Both you and Yoongi know you’re going to say yes anyway.

“What else do you want me to call you? My homework homie?”

“Uh, yeah . That sounds way better than study buddy. ” You’re more proud of your humor than anything else, even if it earns a deserved eye-roll from Yoongi.

“And midterms are coming up. So you know, mutually beneficial.” Yoongi takes a sip from his coffee, peering at you from behind the rim.

“Like… friends with benefits?” You can’t help yourself. It’s just too easy to flirt with him.

Yoongi tongues his cheek, he grins. “Only if you want it to be.” He’s having way too much fun with this.

You try to hide your reaction, but Yoongi notices anyway. (He notices a lot of things you don’t realize.) Your wide-eyed shock, the blush that’s flushing down your neck, the way you open your mouth as if to say something equally as flirtatious back, your laugh, like this is actually way more casual than it is.

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” He says. You could get used to the playful lilt in his voice.

“Only if you promise you won’t just copy my work.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, suddenly very aware of how tall he is.

“I live and die by the honor code, y/n. Of course I won’t,” Yoongi says, leaning ever closer to you in the cramped hallway.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Does a man of honor text me like you did last night?”

“Oh come on. If you’re going to be friends with me you’re going to have to learn to laugh at dirty humor.” Friends? It’s a start, at least.

“Who said that I didn’t like dirty humor?”

“Hmm, I did.” There’s a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. “You’d have to be a woman of your word and show me.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You flash an innocent smile, like you don’t see the implication of what he’s saying.

Tuesdays have always been the most bittersweet day of the week for you. It’s lesson day, but oh, it’s lesson day. It feels like the day of judgement, every single week. It’s a culmination of all the blood and tears that you’ve poured into your music in the past week, another chance at evaluation. You’ve known your violin teacher longer than you’ve been in college, and it still shouldn’t scare you this much.

The nervousness spins and dips in your chest as you make your way up the winding stairs that lead to the music building. You usually soothe the apprehension by reminding yourself of all the things you’ve done to prepare, just like you usually do before you go out on stage. This week you were supposed to get the rest of the Bach partita memorized and cleaned up, but it still resides in your memory as disjointed bits and pieces of what it’s actually supposed to sound like. You try to run through the parts that you were stuck on last night, but you draw a blank. You usually don’t take this long to commit pieces to memory, but when you open up your score, all you can think about is the unmoving stare of the audience. Seeing your life flash before your eyes every time you stare at your pencil markings isn’t exactly conducive to productive practice sessions.

As you retrieve your violin from your locker and make your way to the practice room, you feel like you’re preparing yourself for your own undoing—every scale, every tick of the metronome—another step towards your demise.

It shouldn’t be this serious, but the pitter-pattering of your heart says otherwise. You glance at the clock. It’s time. You pack up now, so you have a couple extra minutes to wait solemnly outside of her office, staring at the posters that advertise the professionals who come to perform concerts at your college. Next week, a pianist and violinist duo is coming. In the picture, they’re smiling proudly next to a Steinway piano. They look proud of themselves. They probably don’t feel like they’re allergic to the stage, probably live for the audience’s applause. That’s probably how they ended up there on the poster, after all.

Your violin teacher isn’t scary. She’s a homey, lovely old woman whose wrinkles come from a lifetime of smiling. She’s the type to bring you sweet, homemade pastries that are almost as warm as her hugs during the toughest parts of the semester. Which makes the moments when she’s unhappy all the more painful. It’s not her fear that plagues you, but disappointment.

The door clicks open, and you have no more time to ponder your failures as a musician. You gather your things and head inside. Nothing inside her office has changed since the previous week. The same teetering stack of well-loved method books sits on her chair, the same humidifier whirring steadily in the corner, the same Dr. Kim Hyung-Seo sitting on the piano bench.

“Good afternoon, y/n! How’s the Bach coming along?” She asks, like you haven’t spent the past week treating this piece like your mortal enemy. She takes a sip of her warm chamomile tea, from the same snowman-shaped mug that she’s used every week, because she is that endearing. In another life, she would probably be your grandmother.

“Good morning. Ah, you know…” You trail off and gesture into the air, trying to hide your grimace. How could you possibly describe the unease and unsureness around performing without crossing some kind of professional boundary?

“Let’s hear it, it’s okay. Are you all warmed up?” You nod as you unpack your things again. As you move to put the Bach score on the music stand, she tuts.

“Didn’t we agree that this would be memorized last week?” Dr. Kim flips through her lesson notes, inky blue scrawling over the pages. “Yeah, it should be memorized. Close the score, darling.” Usually, when Dr. Kim calls you darling, warmth unfurls in your chest and you beam. You’re not feeling particularly warm right now.

“Ah, okay…” With slow reluctance, you close the score, the plain paper cover mocking you. You lift your bow to your violin, and shut your eyes. You don’t want to watch this.

Yoongi (4:38pm): Hey

Yoongi (4:38pm): wanna study tonight :]

If there’s anything Yoongi is good at, it’s having perfect timing. You half-walk, half-run out of the music building, sucking frigid air into your lungs. The cold weather seems to force the tears back into your eyes. If there was ever a worst-case scenario for how a lesson could go, then that was what just played out in the music room.

Shutting your eyes won’t stop the barrage of images, playing the world’s cruelest slideshow behind your eyelids. Your teacher’s pursed lips, the still fingers clasped over her mug, the pinched brow.

“y/n, we don’t have much more time to clean it up…” Her words echo in your head. “We’ll try again next week…” The disappointment was the worst thing, the downward tone in her voice. “I expected better…”

You (5:15pm): maybe

You (5:15pm): what time?

Yoongi (5:20pm): like now

Yoongi (5:23pm): are you busy?

You (5:25pm): no I just finished up a lesson

You (5:26pm): i’m about to study in the library if you want to join me

Yoongi (5:30pm): I don’t want to go to the library :(

You (5:31pm): why not

Yoongi (5:32pm): if I feed you dinner will you come to my apartment

Yoongi (5:33pm): I really don’t want to walk to the library it’s too damn cold

After all, the best way to a woman's heart is through her stomach.

You (5:35pm): fine

You (5:35pm): it better be a hell of a dinner

Yoongi (5:36pm): of course it will

Yoongi sends you his location, and you’re walking as fast as you can through the campus to make it to his apartment before you can freeze your fingers off.

Yoongi’s expression is nothing short of scandalized when you show up at his door. It’s a typical mouse hole apartment, his front door identical to all the other ones that you’d passed to get here.

“You’re not wearing gloves? In this weather?”

“I don’t have any…” You rasp out. You’re tired. Your throat hurts from trying to hold tears back during your entire lesson, and you have no spirit left to give Yoongi an innuendo-laced comeback.

I expected better.

“Oh my god, you’ve been playing violin for how many years and nobody ever told you to wear gloves when it’s cold?” He leads you inside, the warmth abating the cold that’s wormed its way underneath your clothes and into your bones.

“For God’s sake, y/n, hasn’t anyone ever told you about the importance of blood circulation?” Yoongi clasps your hands between his, rubbing and blowing air on them to warm them up. He doesn’t notice your surprise amid his chastising, muttering something about common sense. You don’t try to keep your guard up this time, just trying to bite tears back at the mention of musicianship. The firm press of his hands grounds you.

“There.” He smiles, proud of himself. “Warm now?”

Oh yeah, you’re definitely warm. In every dimension of the word. But you don’t tell him that, so you settle for a weak nod.

“You can put your stuff there. I’m hungry now, let’s eat first?” You hum in affirmation as you settle your heavy backpack on his cramped couch.

It turns out that Min Yoongi’s idea of gourmet cooking is heating up two freezer-burnt Hot Pockets while you watch him putter around the tiny kitchenette. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him without his glasses, and this is when you finally internalize that Yoongi will always look good no matter what he does or wears or says.

“You made it seem like you were cooking,” You say, just to fill the silence.

“Uhhhh, I don’t know who told you I was capable of cooking, but they were wrong. I can show you a good time in other ways, no?”

You snort.

In hopes of saving time, he microwaves both of Hot Pockets at the same time. You silently bristle at the fact that even your dinner is getting more action than you are these days.

You and Yoongi eat together in his tiny living room, sitting on mismatched stools.

“How did your lesson go?” Yoongi says, more focused on eating than on you.

“Oh…” You set your Hot Pocket down, sighing in defeat. The image of Dr. Kim sitting behind the piano bench, her dissatisfaction like a noxious cloud. “I… I… got ripped apart. I’m a little behind with preparing for the Bach festival, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing I do or prepare will make me less stressed about it.” You slump onto the counter, recounting all the things you did wrong in your lesson today. I expected better.

“What’s the stress about? We still have over a month, right?” You’re suddenly jealous of Yoongi. His nonchalance, his seemingly constant reassurance that everything is going to be okay.

“I’m not worried about that… just, no matter how much I practice, I’m gonna fuck it up on stage.” Your forehead pinches in frustration.

“Are you that nervous?”

“I’ve always been this nervous. For any performance. I haven’t performed alone in a while… and you know. It’s Bach, and everyone expects me to do some amazing job, and it’s like, I don’t know if I can deliver that and-” Yoongi eases his hand on your shoulder, calm, reassuring. He looks concerned. Like he cares. Like a friend.

“When was the last time you played something just for the fun of it?”

“I don’t know, maybe my freshman year? I used to arrange themes from movies.”

“We should work on something together, just for fun. We’re such a perfect instrument combo, there’s so much repertoire for violin and piano.”

“What did you have in mind? Do you even have enough time for that?” (You know you don’t have enough time for that.)

“It doesn’t even have to be a difficult piece. It could be something easy or hard, I don’t care.” Yoongi ponders his next words over a bite of his food. “I… I... just want to see you less stressed out. And music should always be fun, not just for a grade. What kind of music would you be making if you weren’t happy?”

“I don’t know…”

“I know this one Brahms piece that I think you’d like. Totally fits your vibe. We can just work on it slowly, you know? Or we could arrange the Anpanman theme song, I don’t care.”

“I think I’m mostly good for the midterm, except for the composer dates,” Yoongi spins around in his office chair, dragging his feet on the ground.

“Me too,” You say, as you drink in the sight of his room. For someone who claims to abhor studying and all things academic, Yoongi appears to be quite the organized student. Despite the constant claim that his education is merely a necessary evil, he keeps his notes organized in uniform binders on a well-cared for bookshelf. The bookshelf is adjacent to the extremely detailed wall calendar, marked full with due dates and deadlines in pens of various colors.

He runs his fingers over the binders to locate the binder allocated to the species counterpoint class you’re taking together.

“I already have flashcards for everything before the Romantic Era, but I’m so fucked for everything else.”

“Why not just use Quizlet like everyone else?” You say. You eye his neatly made bed and the Kumamon stuffed animal shoved hastily underneath it.

“Back in my day, we used flashcards like cavemen,” Yoongi reasons, despite the fact that your birthdays are months within each other. “And besides, they feel better in your hand.” Of course, they’re indexed by color and musical era.

“Ugh, I hate sitting at my desk. My back is starting to hurt,” Yoongi says, despite having worked for about ten minutes. “Do you want to lay down?” He pats the fluffy comforter adjacent to him. Yoongi doesn’t wait for your response however, plopping down on the bed with an audible thump.

“Okay, old man,” You jibe, but you’ve also been sitting for a majority of the day. Your back is aching too, but you’ll never admit it to him.

Sometimes, at times like these, you wish you could just muster up the courage and stop playing this game of cat and mouse with him. When you lay on his sheets that smell like him, quizzing each other, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings for him, right then and there.

Or outlined exactly how exactly you would take his cock in your mouth, given the chance. Other times, you consider the fact that he might like to play with his food before diving in. Whatever it was, it scared you, the unease climbing up your spine and staying put.

You wonder if he understands the implication of you so casually lounging on his bed, but then you realize that you likely don’t exist in the realm of romantic possibilities for him. He likely sees you as the nerdy, sexless violinist that spends all her time slaving away in the practice room or the library. That’s why you’re here, after all. To help study for the midterms coming up. “Being friends with him is better than nothing,” you tell yourself, but you can’t really bring yourself to believe it.

You don’t remember, or at least don’t care to, when Yoongi started touching every aspect of your life. It’s really only been a couple of weeks since the two of you started studying together. You don’t dare to imagine how much of your thoughts he would occupy if you continue your friendship into the coming months. If your crush of massive proportions was bad before, it’s truly out of hand now. It certainly didn’t help that he actually knew you existed now. He spammed you gifs of baby animals while he was on the way to class, texted you links to performances of pieces that he was working on. He even began to send you teasing texts on the mornings that he made it to the practice rooms before you.

Every experience you have is colored by thoughts of him. The coffee that you drink like ambrosia conjures up images of him sitting across from you in some far-off sunlit cafe, laughing at all your jokes. On the nights when sleep escapes you, you lay awake rehashing over and over what you had said to him on the previous day. You even fall into reveries when he’s sitting there right next to you.

It’s inescapable, especially with the Bach Festival looming over your head. The more time you spend in the practice room, the more you go back to that one fateful night. You can still see the image of him now, sitting before the piano, playing Chopsticks.

You both make your way through the fat deck of flashcards, Yoongi quizzing you first.

“J.S. Bach?” You note to yourself even the upswing in his voice was cute. How did you ever let yourself get so whipped?

“1685 to…” You falter, still stuck on his voice. Even his voice drives you crazy.

“Come on, you should know this.” He drives his point home by poking you in the side, and he likes the gasp that you make.

“1750.” Of course you know Bach’s birth and death dates by heart. You see it every time you open up your score. Even the scant prod he gave you in the side, over your clothes, is enough to make your skin heat up.

“And if you ever tickle me again, you won’t live long enough for midterms,” You threaten, but your harsh tone of voice doesn’t reach the light in your eyes.

“Brahms?”

“Ugh, fuck, I don’t know. 1832 to?”

“Wrong.” He sets the cards down next to him, looking at you in mock disappointment. In an instant, he attacks you with tickles, and your efforts to bat him away are fruitless.

“This-this is what you get for not knowing when Brahms was born! Learn through punishment! 1833 to 1897, remember that next time!!” He collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck, unrelenting. Yoongi sounds almost gleeful in your torture.

You writhe under his touch, and for all the wrong reasons.

For the first time in your life, you’re almost glad you’re ticklish. Your eyes roll back into your head, not of your own accord. It’s too much, the soft skin of his cheek pressed up against your neck, the warm weight of his body against yours, the way his legs cage you in. A moan slips in between your helpless giggles, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it.

“Uhhh, what was that?” He doesn’t stop, merciless in his advance. “I didn’t know you liked tickling… like that.” He’s teasing you, now. He can’t hide his pleased grin.

Between gasps, you manage to pant, “I… don’t…”

“Then what? Tell me.” That’s when Yoongi relents, leaning back. He continues to straddle you, because he’s cruel like that. (And because he likes it too.)

“You’re just… ugh, I don’t know… so close.” In Yoongi’s eyes, you’re a study in debauchery. From your struggle, your hair is mussed, the hem of your shirt awry. Your cheeks are flushed, from embarrassment or from the tickling, you don’t know. Your chest frantically rises and falls, trying to regain your breath.

You, on the other hand, feel fucking ridiculous. Contrary to popular belief, being on the recieving end of tickling is fucking physically exhausting.

Yoongi is stuck on the hot and bothered look on your face, except for the hard look in your eye. You despise being tickled, even if it is Min Yoongi doing the tickling. He wonders what you’d look like if you were underneath him in… different circumstances.

Would it compare?

“I… I… I just…” You avert your gaze now, hiding your face behind your hands. You can’t stand to look at him right now.

“Spill it, or I’ll go back to tickling you until you break.” He grabs your hands away from your face, pinning them next to your head.

He really isn’t going to make this easy for you, is he.

This is overwhelming. The eye contact is too much. The weight of his hands on your wrists, holding you down, is too much. The way his panting breath tickles the skin beneath your collar is too much. You’ve had a bad day, the voice in the back of your head whispers. He makes you forget how awful this semester has been. He makes you feel better. Make this day easier on yourself. Just give in.

There’s no hiding it now, you concede.

You shut your eyes, unable to face him. “It’s just… been a while.”

“Uh-huh. Continue?” He places his hands back on your stomach, as if in warning.

“Since uhhhh… I’ve done… anything… with anyone…” Your words hang heavy in the air. Your secret is out.

He laughs. He really has the audacity to laugh.

“Shut up! I’m just like, touch starved, okay?” You’re definitely just blushing out of embarrassment, at this point.

Yoongi starts to ponder if he crossed too far of a line, but you continue anyway. You huff, indignant and desperate to cover your ass. This is not how you ever imagined telling Yoongi you were ever interested in him, sexual or not.

“Not everyone is like, the campus pussy magnet and gets to fuck whenever they want,” You say.

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m not the campus pussy magnet. We’re... not so different. I haven’t been with anyone, um, in a while.” Now Yoongi takes his turn to blush and stutter. He does that thing he always does when he’s nervous, runs a hand through his hair and lets it rest on the nape of his neck.

“I find that hard to believe. No need to lie out of pity. Like, come on. Look at you. You’re all…” You gesture down his body, “And you have that whole vibe going on, and you’re tall, and you have good taste in cologne, and-and-and you play the piano , and ugh. You should know that by now.” You babble on. You’re not that good at keeping secrets, anyway. Might as well let the cat out of the bag while you’re at it.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you’re not fazed. By now, you’re used to the long silences that elapse when you’re with him. You wait for him to talk first, just so you can discreetly enjoy the feeling of him straddling you for a little longer. You try to pass off the silence as you quietly fuming at him for calling out your lackluster sex life, but you’re really just trying get yourself together.

Then he starts laughing. Again.

“What are you laughing for now?” Your brow furrows in frustration.

“Nothing, nothing, don’t be mad. I just didn’t think that tickling would be a turn on for you.”

“It’s not!”

“To be completely honest with you, you look like one of those really innocent soft girls on the outside but you’re actually like, into choking and have a secret sex dungeon.” He doesn’t seem to care that you’ve all but revealed your massive, terminal crush on him.

You sigh, but you’re just glad he gave you something to fire back with.

“You and I both know that the university dorms are too small for a sex dungeon, Yoongi. I can’t even have candles in my room. What sex dungeon is complete without candles?”

“Oh, a devil in the details. The ambiance is important, I see…” That devious smile of his makes a comeback.

“Oh, shut up. Give me the flashcards, four-eyes.” He relinquishes the flashcards, but he still continues to straddle you.

“Woah, there’s no need to insult my glasses.”

You ignore him, desperate to move on from your momentary lapse in judgement. “Haydn?”

“1732 to 1809. What about music? Music must be important if you care about the ambiance. Answer my question.”

You laugh to cover up how worked up you are. “Maybe you can find out after we finish reviewing. Scarlatti?”

“1660 to 1725. What kind of music do you listen to? R&B, something sexy?” He sits up now, spurred on by your refusal to answer his questions.

“Or do you listen to classical music then, too? Does Chopin get your blood flowing?” He’s being insufferable now.

You groan into the pillow. “Yoongiii, let’s focus.”

“If it’s something like Liszt, I’m sure I have a couple recommendations.”

Yoongi sits up straighter, waggles his eyebrows in a way you definitely shouldn’t find endearing. “Or, I could record something for you…”

You snap. “Just, I don’t know, sometimes I listen to music?” Your attempts to stop the blushing are in vain, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck. It’s even harder to stop when it’s your embarrassingly short sexual history on the line.

“I prefer dirty talk anyways…” You murmur under your breath, wishing he could just get the fuck off your case. The more he keeps talking about things like this, in that tone of voice, the harder it’s going to get to keep your ever-growing crush a secret.

Still, some small part (let’s be honest, the monkey brain part of you) of you, the part of you that aches for him, wants to spur him on.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing.”

“Hmm… something about dirty talk?” Fuck, does Yoongi have a good ear. He smiles. He knows he’s gotten you now.

Okay, you should probably admit to yourself that he’s flirting with you now. The touches, the holding you down, the insistence on pushing this tiny matter, it all adds up. And the math says that Min Yoongi is flirting with you.

“Mmm, nothing.” You snuggle a little deeper into his bedsheets, playing coy.

“You know, like during sex? Don’t make me tickle you again, because I will stoop that low.”

“I don’t remember saying that…” You mock-pretend to ponder his question, catch your bottom lip between your teeth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his gaze fall downward. You know you’ve gotten him now.

“Can you refresh my memory?”

“Like… you know.” He shrugs.

“I’m an auditory learner. Do you have an example?”

“Hmm, let me think… I’ll tease you until you’re begging for me to touch you properly? Does that ring a bell for you?”

“No…” You bring your hands to your face to cover up your blush, and because you can’t stand to look at him. Not when he’s talking to you like that, with that look in his eye, his hands on your body. “It doesn’t…” You laugh, even beneath his weight.

He laughs. “I’m just teasing. You’re so cute when I get a rise out of you.”

Oh.

#armywriterssupport #btsgoldnet #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts #bts x reader

84 notes · View notes

chubsjiminiie · 6 years

Text

Bʀᴇᴀᴋ Mʏ Hᴇᴀʀᴛ 🌙 preview pt 25

a/n: THERES A SECOND PART COMING TM AND THEN IMMA MERGE THEM AS ONE BUT I PROMISED TO POST TODAY AND I DIDNT GET TO FINISH BC I HAVE HW AND IVE BEEN BUSY W WORK BUT IM GOING TO FINISH TONIGHT ILLYYY

~тaeнyυng х reader

~ pt 25/??

~ birthday preview

~ prev || next

posts everyday at 9pm est

requests are open!

You giggle looking down at your phone seeing all your friends being a little dumb. Your birthday had finally arrived, usually you weren’t one for birthdays because they were just another regular day. At least that’s what they ended up feeling like since you had either school or work that took up most of your time.

Tae really put his all in celebrating your birthday this year. Buying gifts left and right; anything he thought that you’d enjoy he got. So far thing between the two of you really had gone well; it seemed things were getting somewhat serious. You spent almost every single day together, finding any free time to see each other and have little dates. Every time he was near your heart overflowed with love, you were falling in deep. It seemed, at least to you, his eyes were brighter, his smile sweeter, his touch a little warmer, and his heart a little softer.

With everyday that passed your feelings got stronger, and you were almost 100% sure you had fallen deeply, madly in love with Kim Taehyung, your best friend. It was different now though; before you tried your best to ignore what you felt because he’d never feel the same but that has changed. Now you knew his flirting and clinginess wasn’t all in your head, it was real. Jungkook, being his roommate, was constantly teasing you about stealing his boyfriend and hogging him night and day. There were times when he’d complain even when he wasn’t with you but you assumed it was him just messing with you. The others were very supportive about everything and very invested in the relationship.

For tonight though, you guys weren’t really bothering with thinking about the budding relationship. It was time to enjoy the party and get drunk out of your minds. All the boys had agreed on things to help you get prepare and were going to be at your place an hour early. They said you were going to need some help protecting your place for the destruction that was to come. Already you could see the mess that would be waiting for you tomorrow morning. Beer cans and bottles scattered everywhere. red solo cups covering every single flat surface, strange puddles of liquids on your wooden floor. Maybe you shouldn’t be celebrating your birthday with a hundred drunk college students… oh well.

The night before Taehyung had come over to give you his final present and stay the night with you. It was huge teddy bear and a bunch of balloons with a bouquet of roses. In that moment you had no idea how to react so you jumped on his and wrapped your legs around his waist. He got caught off guard so you both fell to the couch behind him and you both laugh. You felt your smile grow just thinking back on that memory and you looked up to your ceiling. After doing what you need you had come to lay down on your bed but you couldn’t calm your mind from constantly thinking of Tae. He was in your guest room changing into his outfit, he had brought two full bags of clothes to make sure he was prepared for any outfit color you chose. It was these small things he did that always made your heart swoon and jump out of your chest. They gave you hope, hope that everything would be alright if the two of you made the decision to stay together.

Some could call you ignorant for trusting a fuckboy, even if he’s your best friend. That made it worst thought because you had seen all the moves he makes to get girls or to break hearts, you knew his little games. There were girls in your classes that “warned” you about him, they said when they hooked up he was quick to leave and ignore their entire existence. They said he may be a little nicer because you were friends but at the end of the day he was Taehyung. Not going to lie this ran through your head a lot, you always wondered if he was playing games but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He would never you thought, he cares way too much about you not just romantically but as a friend. Was he really the type to not give a fuck and hurt his own best friend knowing she’s head over heels for him?

You don’t know though, and that in itself drove you crazy. He had so much power in his hands, it was all in his next move to see what came out of everything.

You eyelids slowly began to close trying to keep away the negative thoughts that had already starting coming through. Tonight is for having fun, enjoying your birthday, celebrating you. Suddenly the empty side of you bed sunk down and a body laid next to yours. He slowly turned and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his on your chest.

“Princess, are you taking a nap before your ruin your liver tonight?” he whispered not wanting to wake you up in case you were really asleep.

“Mhm. Oppa really has good ideas about charging up before a party,” you giggle.

He chuckles at your comment and somehow cuddles closer onto you; you bring your free arms and wrap them around him pulling him even closer. You both had always had cuddling sessions and slept in the same bed together but it’s been completely different nowadays. They felt, weird, a good weird. The type of cuddles that made you want to giggle and blush and just be there forever if it was possible. As soon as you both started to get into your nap a loud bang can from the front door being swung open. Six voices filled the empty rooms at your place, their feet shuffling around trying to find where the star of the night was. Once they reached your room they saw the two of you laying holding each other and began their teasing. Jimin and Jungkook hyped it up the most jumping on the bed and falling on top of the both of you claiming they wanted cuddles too. Jin and Namjoon were hand in hand laughing from the door. Surprisingly Hobi and Yoongi were also hand in hand but their expressions were unreadable. Almost as if something was bothering them but as their eyes met yours their smiles appeared.

“ALRIGHT MY CHILDREN LETS HEAD DOWN AND GET OUR DRINK ON!” Namjoon yelled overly excited.

“Hell yeah!” Jungkook jumped off the bed and made his way down with the rest of the guys.

Taehyung and you took a bit longer trying to unwrap yourselves and fix up the messiness that was created by the cuddles. As you made your way down, his hand found yours and intertwined your fingers. He loved being touchy, he lived for holding hands, hugging, and any type of affection. Time passed as you guys pregamed in the middle of kitchen. Each one of you complained about all the assignments that were being given in almost every major. Most of you being art majors, you enjoyed and hated big projects because you had creative control but the deadlines really killed.

Slowly more college students began arriving and started drinking. In the beginning most of them tried their best to greet you but as the night went on they completely forgot why they came in the first place. The music was blasting and shaking all the beautiful paintings and pictures on your wall but you didn’t mind. it felt good to let loose and celebrate you. The guys had stuck by your side most of the night wanting to drink as much as possible with you.

“No Jungkook stop you can’t say those things to a girl!!!” Jin scolded the youngest.

“Jin hyung. I only wanted to know if she keeps money in her bra like y/n!”

“You can’t ask so freely unless you know her!” he shook his head, “She’s going to think your a creep.”

“That’s okay,” Jungkook shrugged and his bunny teeth came out as his lips spread into a big smile.

You didn’t know how many shots you had taken but it was… a lot. Plus the guys were refilling your red solo cup right after you finished, it felt like you were floating at this point. Taehyung had drank just as much as you taking every shot you took filling his cup just as much as yours got filled. He was gone. You were a bit surprise to find out he was even more touchy as a drunk. He turned to face you and brought you into a hug, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head rested on your shoulder. You were leaning against a wall in your house as the rest of the group circled around you. His soft lips began to peck your shoulder sweetly, he moved up a bit and started kissing your jaw. Your knees felt weak as he got closer to your ear.

His raspy voice whispered, “You’re so beautiful y/n.”

“Thank you,” you spoke back softly not really knowing what to do.

His lips continued to leave trails of kisses along your neck and shoulders until he finally reached your lips. He only gave you a small peck and let go of you.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day long but I haven’t had the balls to,” he chuckles as he bends down speaking into your ear, “I almost forgot to tell you. I have one last present to give you. But it’s for when were both alone.”

You’re eyebrows knitted together and your head tilted to the side, “Birthday sex?” you asked teasing him jokingly.

“I mean if you’re down…” you playfully smack his arm, “No baby, its something more special. I can give you birthday sex after that if were sober enough,” he winked.

You both laughed at each other and he pulled you into his arms. This time he was leaning against the wall and your back was pressed to his chest. His head rested on the top of your head and his arms were on your shoulders. You held his hand, and watched your friends get wasted and start talking complete nonsense. Feeling in the mood to move around and take out all the energy the alcohol had given you, you drag Tae out to dance with you. Your dancing wasn’t much of anything, a couple of the guys gave you thumbs up or would make kissing faces at you. You were too out of it to feel Tae’s phone vibrate in his pocket but he noticed.

He pulled his phone out and looked down at who had texted him. He felt his body cringe just looking at the name written on the screen while he was having a moment with you. The text read, “Where are you?”, there were 3 dots indicating she was typing. He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. He excused himself and went into the bathroom to text back the girl who had just texted him.

83 notes · View notes

astraea-writes · 7 years

Text

To Kiss A Girl- Davey Jacobs x Reader

alright so i guess im just gonna post davey fics until ben fankhauser falls in love with me??

requested by anon, so sorry for the delay! these go alongside my college headcanons from the other day, and i most definitely am going to rewrite this in the future with better structuring, but i wanted to get this out asap!

please listen to "to Kiss a Girl" when you read bc itll make so much more sense i promise

as always my inbox is always open

warnings: drinking

Hey! Y/N! Get a pape from your favorite newsie?" Jack yelled from across the quad. You laughed and made your way towards him. winter break was over, and today was the first day of the last quarter of the school year. Your last class of the day had just gotten out, and you were already exhausted from the amount of work you knew you'd have before this year was out. "Katherine's still got you passing out the school newspaper for her?" you asked, taking the paper and sliding it into your bag. "My girl just made rising editor in chief for next year" he beamed, and you smiled at how in love with her he was. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts, however, when you felt an arm wrap around your waist and turned to see Davey. "Hey, study night at the library?" He asked and when you nodded he dropped his arm and blushed at the instinctive contact. It was a common occurrence for the two of you to spend countless days studying and talking while the rest of your gang was out getting into trouble somehow. Jack chuckled at the awkward exchange. "Well well, if it ain't the other half of the loveboids" he greeted Davey, winking and slugging him on the shoulder. You rolled your eyes. "Shouldn't you be off fawning over Katherine like a lost puppy somewhere?" you teased and Jack playfully shoved you. " ah come on, you two knows there's something goin on here! You twos have even kissed!" He accused, waving his hands around wildly, gesturing to the small space between you and your best friend. You couldn't help but look down and smile at the memory, but you quickly recovered as Davey went still. "It was New Years, Jack. And I seem to recall you getting us tipsy on champagne, and then pushing me into him as the ball dropped" "I elped a little, but you twos were the one who did it!" He protested. You smiled and shook your head. "I know there's no point to arguing with ya, even if I'm right, so I'm just gonna leave now" you laughed. Jack smirked at the glare Davey gave him and you pulled him away before he could get too annoyed. "Sorry i wasn't much help back there" he muttered once you were out of Jacks hearing range. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself" you laughed. The rest of the walk was full of conversation about how Davey finally got to see Les during winter break and your crazy family stories. The two of you instinctively made your way to your table, in the back of the library by the law books no one ever needed so no one would bother you. You hadn't even bothered to stop at your dorm and grab any textbooks, you knew that you and Davey would probably wind up talking so much that nothing would get done-it was rare for the two of you to have been apart for this long. "Why'd you want to study?" you asked as Davey pulled out his laptop. "Have you even been assigned anything yet?" "No" he admitted, "Im just stressed. You know how I took that music composition class last semester?" You nodded and he continued "well our final project was to write a full length song but our class was struggling so much that the professor gave us winter break to finish it. But now, I have to perform it in a week and it's no where near good enough" You laughed as he ranted. "Davey, you're an amazing writer. I'm sure it's amazing, even though you refuse to let me hear it." He shook his head. "There's no way you're hearing it" "at least play it for me then?" You countered, and knowing that you wouldn't stop until he did, Davey slowly got up and made his way towards the piano in the lounge of the library, where students were free to relax and play anything they wanted. He sat down and began to play the most beautiful melody you had ever heard. You stared at him as his hands moved all over the keys and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You thought back to what Jack had said, about New Years Eve.

You and the gang of boys Davey and Jack had gathered had decided to go home for Hanukkah and Christmas, but come back to school for a New Years Party to end all New Years Parties (according to Spot Conlon). You had showed up to a pretty little club to find the boys drinking like no tomorrow, save for Davey who was in the corner waiting for you. As the two of you spent the night in conversation, Jack got more antsy as the night went on, telling the both of you that tonight was the time to finally get together about every twenty minutes, and the two of you had rolled your eyes and laughed his drunken shpeals off each time. Two minutes to midnight he had pressed glasses of champagne and probably something else into your and Daveys hands, and pushed the two of you together. You fell into Davey and his hand went to the small of your back as your hand grabbed his shoulder for support. Taking a sip of champagne and setting the glasses down, the two of you maintained eye contact, still pressed against each other. You couldn't speak, mesmerized by his eyes, by the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room. As Jack screamed the countdown, you decided to screw it and quickly pressed your lips to his. It was only for a moment, a single kiss, but he kissed you back and you felt every firework and sparkle that had been promised to you by corny love songs and cliche movies. The Newsies yelled and cheered once the two of you pulled away, staring at each other like you were meeting for the first time. Once the boys finally dispersed to go and taunt Jack and Katherine, who were very publicly making out in the middle of the dance floor, you turned to go with them, but Davey grabbed your hand and pulled you back to his chest. Before you could ask what was wrong, he cupped his hands around your face and kissed you. The two of you stayed like that, kissing painfully slowly, lips moving together in perfect sync, knowing that once you pulled away this would all end. After several minutes you had to break the kiss, and when your eyes met there was absolutely no denying that you were in love with this boy and always had been.

But you hadn't done anything about it. Davey walked you to your dorm, made sure you got to your bed safely, and left. When you woke up the next morning, there was a glass of water and an aspirin on your desk and a text message on your phone from Davey, apologizing for leaving so soon but he had to catch his train back home, and apologizing for last night. You had stayed in bed, silent tears moving down your face, because the boy you loved was sorry he kissed you and there was nothing you could do about it. "Y/N?" Daveys voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and quickly wiped away a tear you hadn't realized was forming. "Sorry," you laughed softly. "Just, God, Davey, that was beautiful. So so beautiful" He blushed and thanked you, quickly walking back to your table. "So when do I get to hear the actual lyrics??" you asked slyly. "Never." He responded flatly. "Come onnnn Davey, Im your best friend" you pouted, making him laugh. "Its just, personal, okay?" he said defensively. "Mm hmm, okay. But there's nothing that you can't write amazingly, and nothing you can't sing because I have 100% heard you singing in the shower so there's no denying that Davey Jacobs. And if you don't want me to listen to it, then fine, but nothing is going to change the fact that it's probably already my most favorite song ever" you told him sincerely, and he blushed, still not used to your compliments after years of friendship.

But it really wasn't fine. Because you couldn't let it go.

"Okay just tell me what it's about" you begged, lying upside down on Jacks bed as Davey cleaned up his side of the room. "Nope" he smirked and you groaned in agony. "Davey come on there's nothing I don't know about you" "You don't know what I'm gonna sing" he laughed and you threw one of Jacks pillows at his head. "Davey come on I'm literally dying. Is it about me? About Jack? About your hidden love for girly Starbucks drinks?" you jokingly guessed, standing in line at your local Starbucks. Davey recited both of your orders and then turned back to glare at you. "Y/N I'm seriously not telling you. It's personal and stupid and once I get my grade I'm never speaking of it again, okay?" he sighed as the two of you walked to class. "That makes me incredibly sad because I know everything you do is ridiculously amazing" you smiled, and he only rolled his eyes.

After a week of begging and unsuccessfully bribing, Davey's performance day was here and you still weren't even told where it would be. That was, until Jack came pounding on your door. "Y/N! So a friend of Katherine's is in Daveys music class and a friend of hers is the stage manager for the theatre they're using and if we go right now then we can get there in time to sneak in!" he yelled, and you had barely grabbed your coat before you were out the door. Jack was the only person as impatient as you, and Daveys secrecy had been driving him crazy as well. The two of you made it to the school theater in record time, sneaking in to the back entrance that had been left open for you. You two made your way to the back of the house, and ducked into the last row of seats as Daveys name was called. He shyly walked up to the piano, and began to play the melody you had heard just the week before. His face slowly relaxed as he calmed his nerves, and hesitantly he began to sing. You were immediately stunned. His voice was pure and perfect, echoing off the walls. And then he got to the chorus. You felt Jacks eyes land on you, but you couldn't look away from Davey. Was he really singing about you? Could he really have felt the same way? You barely blinked, smiling wider than you thought possible, tears pooling in your eyes. And right before the final chorus, Davey turned to look out into the crowd and your eyes met. With a mix of both fear and confidence that only he could have, he belted out the final notes, and as he finished the song, you ran up to the bottom of the stage as the professors and the rest of the class burst into applause, Jack cheering the loudest. Davey made his way down to you from the stage, and all of his embarrassment melted away as he saw the look in your eyes. He ran up to you and you didn't hesitate to grab his collar and pull him into you, kissing him like you had been waiting to for so long. His hands wrapped around your waist and he deepened the kiss, the applause growing even stronger. There was no countdown or champagne, but you knew this was a new beginning for the both of you.

#davey jacobs #davey jacobs x reader #davey x reader #newsies fic #newsies x reader #newsies fanfiction #newsies #ben fankhauser #jeremy jordan #jack kelly #katherine plumber

181 notes · View notes

themansionwrites · 5 years

Text

The Lion

He was in his zone just before the redhead come, everything was going so smooth, another day full of great surprise, finally those old flowers bloom again, the bag were almost pack, he didn’t make a mess on the kitchen and just another unlucky person that though taking things inside his place would be a great idea, why people keep thinking a cabin in the woods should mean is empty or vacant?

-You are lucky I promised to lots of people at least four times that I shouldn’t fight you when you come for me Redass

The doctor doesn’t even need to look behind to know who could be there, the only one capable to know that Jason were in a room even when the redhead didn’t want to, even though this time he wasn’t trying to hide, any of them can remember how many times they played this game, that always end up the same way, both with bruises, cuts, blood and an angry company.

-Well you are lucky doll I’m not here to fight then~

-Stop calling me that asshat besides I’m busy

Ah yes, the wonderful display the doctor has today, the unlucky trespasser is actually sick, may be just a flu but looking the beauty of the organs struggling to breath because some slight mucus, isn’t like that time one thief “come” with pneumonia, but still amazing.

-Oh the wonders that only reside inside the humans~ Isn’t that what are you thinking Doll-tor?~

-Ha ha is that you best one idiot?

Trying to ignore the redhead comment, years of fight and is like two kids that never learn the lesson of not fighting between them, so just this time the doctor tries again to look to his recent work, perfectly open, not even that much blood splatter and the ribs neatly cut and put on the nearby table, only so he could see the struggling lungs with the occasional cough that make them go down abruptly only to cough and then go back to their normal rhythm.

-No~ But if it annoy you enough I may keep it~

-…Your hole existence meaning is annoy me isn’t it?

-Not my meaning but my hobby~

The music the doctor has on the old radio isn’t enough to hide the deep sigh that leave his lips, promised not fight, he keep repeating that inside his mind trying not to get mad at him, the doctor was well know for his terrible temper and that promise is the only thing keeping him back of trying to put that scalpel inside the redhead eye.

-Oh you are pretty calm today~ I can guess why~

You are doing it for Sofia and to avoid another long time being scolded by StoryTeller because they fight again, repeating it like a mantra so he wont broke the promise and get his derriere handed to himself again, yes he cant deny to be in a better humor today, everything was going so fine, and he couldn’t deny the excitement only thinking of seeing everyone again, most of them annoy him not doubt, specially the redhead that keep pester him to get a reaction out of him right now, but they all still a family, and seeing them all again, specially Sofia, make him be in the best of humors, being alone isn’t as funny anymore.

-I’m guessing this precious doll still alive because their little illness keep you thinking something doesn’t it?~

-Nah just wanted to have a little fun before finally moving from here and beside they-WAIT WHY THE FUCK IM DISCUSSING THIS WITH YOU

-Aaaaand there we go~ That’s the Doll I know~

-Mind you fucking business you are here just to drag my luggage

Back on his mind is suppress the amused smile the doctor have for the sole fact of how much he miss this kind of rivalry with the redhead, both know if things were different they could be great pals, the actual soul brothers they were mean to be, but without doubt they keep the hole fight like brothers to another level, they come from just insulting each other to trying to almost kill each other, but with a little spice of irony without doubt they have each other’s back when the time arrives.

-Ouch~ You are saying that as if I were a mere buttler~

-If were my choice you would be butter by now

-Oh~ But you forgot who won the last quarrel?~

-Only because they separated us

Standing up the doctor look directly at the redhead eyes with anger, he always had been a fighter, and oh how much he hate to lose against this man, if any of them could call him that, funny enough their different kind wasn’t the reason of their constant fights, and that never stop them either of going into them.

-HmmHmm~

-Don’t deny asshole I got you before they did

-Oh you think so?~

-EY DON’T GET YOU HEAD THAT DEEP ON YOUR ASS I WAS ABOUT TO WIN

-I can’t deny that time the cuts got more time to get heal~

Their argument is interrupted when the almost forgot victim tied up on the clinics bed struggles trying to take the doctor’s coat, a pleading look on their eyes, to end it all, after being drug only to wake up tied up was scary enough, until the doctor with beautiful purple eyes talk to them as if were a normal hospital date, they couldn’t answer anything he asked, they have something on their mouth that doesn’t let them make almost any noise, and soon they understand why, he toke out a needle with a weird substance that did hurt when was apply, but soon they couldn’t move, they couldn’t feel almost anything from their neck down, anesthesia was the only answer the smiling doctor give them to the ask they couldn’t say, sharp teeth decorate his lips, mocking their fear and showing their excitement that lead his gloved hands with all the tools he use on them, almost explain how every single one of them work, and when finally they have their movement back they are rewarded with the same insane smile.

-Looks like my little project is waiting for me so why you don’t just sit somewhere while I finish this

-At least could you tell me what this one did?~ I’m pretty curious why would you get this curious by a mere thief~

-Oh no my little stupid ass crafter, this one here is way more than just a thief

Putting back his face mask so he can go back to operate, the doctor sit calmly and go back to remove every obstacle he can find in his way to bring this ill lungs out, meanwhile the redhead start to wonder around, one of the last cast that was open, of course, this last victim was planned out as usual, someone was assaulting people on their camps place and most times end up being kill, or that’s what the lots of news papers says, and of course the little cuts about the weather just make this whole situation a little more obvious, he was waiting for the opportunity because not even the police could find this thief and murder, the doctor studied what attract them the most to rob and what kind of victims they like the most, wait for the weather to go like this so they could get ill and made a mistake.

-Not as fascinating as the ones from the drug seller but it will make it

The doctor finally make some last cuts to bring the lungs out in almost perfect manner, putting them in a tray so he can take care of them before putting them in their assigned jar so it can be a part of his collection, there is no triumph smile on the doctor face to his victim, not a crazy laugh, not some word of rage or vengeance, not even mockery or a delicious display, is was like any other usual function people do, like brushing your teeth or making the laundry, a concentration face while the victim lie dead there, looking empty to the distance as if where trying to find something inside those weird eyes, a reason why he was doing that, only to die with the question in their mind.

-Once I finish cleaning this, we can go smartass

-Good to know~ Hopefully you will give them some of that precious attitude of yours~

Flipping Jason off before going out of the room to take care of his new collection item, he get himself ready for the long ride that is about to come, goodbye to the usual silence, goodbye to all the big space for only himself, goodbye bad eating and sleeping habits, goodbye doing this kind of fun alone, and hello the feeling of being alive again being part of this madness.

Careful monsters out there, because the Doctor Raymond is moving his office and surgery to the mystery mansion hide on the woods in No man’s land.

#Doc #Ray #Jason #Story #MansionofFun #MoF #new chapter #chapter update

0 notes