Tumgik
#a few of these are actually already planned/written in draft form waiting for me to write the actual story up to their point so i can
Doppelganger will include?:
-its a lil bit of a lengthy list, not too awful, but adding a cut looked better than the full thing all nude and indecent-
bakugou x2
world transportation
fantasty!baku/fantasy!y/n = lovers <3
modern!baku/modern!y/n = not-lovers
big green envy modern!baku (teehee)
fantasy!baku is v v protective
fantasy!y/n is probably (99.99%%) going to be a magic elf
a magic tower is gonna be included and deku's gonna be there :D
kiri? haven't decided if we'll see him yet
modern!baku is gonna go through the bIGGEST trip bc of the alternate world copies
modern!baku will be in a hooded cloak and mask to keep his identity hidden
trio adventure :D
fantasy!baku actually liked dancing but only with fantasy!y/n and it happens like one (1) time but it's actually a mental turning porn for someone more modern :))
heart to heart between fantasy+modern!bakus
heart to heart between fantasy!y/n and modern!baku
fantasy!baku really dislikes modern!baku... like a whole bunch
hes convinced for a long time modern!baku is like an assassin or smth disguised to try and assassinate you
modern!baku has many a realization about himself and his modern home along his fantasy journey and makes a lot of promises to himself for when/if he gets back home
modern!baku is married to proheroism until he's forced to 'take a break' bc of the whole transport thing and he's also a fool
most fantasy!characters will be referred to by given/real names
deku=izuku, uraraka=ochako, kirishima=eijirou, etc. to try and avoid modern!character confusion
(even though only one characters gets transported, obvs character difference between both versions is going to be a running theme)
Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
suddence · 9 months
Text
Retrospective!
Tumblr media
HI. So. Since Suddence draft 3 is done, I thought I'd do a bit of retrospective on this story :^)
This little project started as an escape from my main wip, APHELION, which is a big sprawling sci-fi thing. I thought Suddence would be a nice little novella, 40k words tops.
Turns out, it's 60k words long. That's right. It's a wholeass novel.
Draft #1
On May 17th, 2021, I started the first draft. While I had a strong idea of the basic premise and a nice solid beginning, I wasn't sure how exactly the rest of the story would go. Most of this draft was just me writing down scenes that seemed interesting. At this point, I hadn't even figured what exactly Dany was gonna do after reaching Suddence. I threw together some semblance of a wham bam action climax. I didn't like it, but I couldn't think of much else.
Also, while I had the alternating timelines idea already, they were both written in regular prose.
After "finishing" this draft, I went back to my main wip for a while and continued struggling with it.
Draft #2
On November 16th, 2022, I started the second draft. In this draft, my goal was to tie the story down. The prose doesn't have to be good; it just has to be finished and whole. The beginning of the story stays mostly the same, except that I decided wait! Wouldn't it be more interesting if we got to read the flashbacks as if they were Dany's diary entries?
I tested this out and decided, yup. It was much cooler.
So, I focused on this for a while. Progress was meandering and I was struggling a bit with how I wanted the story to end. At some point, I peeked at my first draft, hoping to have some inspiration, and noticed I started it on May 17th. And at this point, it was also almost May 17th (2023). And I thought to myself, "Man, wouldn't it be something if I could finish this draft on May 17th? Wouldn't that be nice and symmetrical? Haha. That's not possible though."
But with the power of promising I'll treat myself to a Lego splurge after I finish the draft, it was, indeed, possible.
Now, as you read through the draft (I say "you" as if you will ever read this version of the story), you will notice that the quality significantly gets worse as it goes on. But I was perfectly fine with it! I had confidence and trust that my future editing self will handle it. All that matters right now is that it's done.
I let the story marinate for a few months, leaving notes whenever I thought of something, and went back to focus on APHELION. And I had a HUGE breakthrough there, which only boosted my confidence. I had been struggling with this wip for SO long, and it was amazing to finally have it figured out.
Draft #3
On August 1st, 2023, I began the third draft of Suddence. I switched my goal from "it just has to be finished" to "it has to actually be good." My mindset on this stage was that it had to be in a publishable state, even though I don't plan on publishing it just yet. I took the chapters one by one, reading each of them out loud to catch any strange wording or confusing moments. (There were a LOT of these that would have slipped by if I hadn't been reading out loud.)
One thing that really helped was keeping a notebook on hand, and any time I thought of something (e.g. checking the continuity on a previous scene, or a reminder to add something earlier, etc) I would write it down. This made editing SO much more manageable. I didn't have to rely on my spotty memory, I could cover so many more bases, and it's very satisfying to check each task off my list as I tackle them.
I wasn't really sure how long the edit would take. My general goal was to have something ready to show by April/May of 2024, where I'll hopefully be tabling at VanCAF again.
And now it's only been a bit more than two weeks, and the edit is done. 😳
Next Steps
So! My next steps will be to get critiques. I've set up a critique form, and now I'm preparing to reach out to people for beta reading. It's exciting! But also nerve-wracking. I've never gotten to this stage with ANY of my wips before. (Unless you count, like, my grad film, which I definitely don't.)
After critiques, it'll be one more round of edits!
I'm also going to have a copy printed out just at a local print shop, just so I can have something physical to hold :3
Publishing
I'm sure I've talked about this at some point before, but I'm planning to publish the story serially online first, and then having physical copies and e-books once it's done airing, so to speak. I've been checking out a few websites, like Wattpad and Royal Road and Substack. I'll have to poke around them a bit more before I decide which one to use.
I haven't really decided which printing company to use, either. Last I checked, BookVault doesn't ship to Canada :'( and the only other printer I've used is Lulu. I guess I'll have to look into KDP and all that eventually anyway, so I'll do some research on that front as well.
Thank you to everyone who's been following along on this journey! For now, I'm gonna migrate back to APHELION.
6 notes · View notes
undead-potatoes · 6 months
Note
So! Tell me about Aurora! Did they have a life before the Urge came calling? How has their journey been through the game? Are they romancing anybody or do they have any other significant bonds?
I hope you don't mind, but I decided to split this into two posts. You asked about her journey through the game, and suddenly I had written 1400 words that didn't fit with the rest. So uuh yeah, here's the first and the last question at least!
I'm still a little unsure about her life before the Urge. There's the few "canon" things we're given through bits of dialogue (like murdering their parents as a child), but I honestly don't tend to get too caught up in canon if I want to do something different.
She had a lot of nightmares as a child (thanks dad), and it made her a very skittish and nervous child. In combination with minor Urges which made her say and sometimes do off-putting shit, I imagine she wasn't exactly a social butterfly. Like once she probably bit someone when the Urge overtook her, but bc they were baby urges and she was like 6-years-old it didn't really do much but alienate her.
But I think she was otherwise a good kid, doing her best and loved by her adoptive parents, even if they probably worried about her a lot.
I kinda like the idea of her being slightly older, someone who briefly escaped her heritage due to Bhaal's death before he returned in full, and the Urge became too strong to ignore. To have the Urge hovering around in the background her entire life, but always being able to repress it, until she suddenly couldn't.
Idk there's just something to the tragedy of being so close to escaping your predestined fate, when in reality it was always going to end like that, on way or another. You never truly escaped anything, you simply just delayed the inevitable.
She could still have murdered her family, still living with her adoptive parents and possible siblings, or maybe she had her own family by then. Either way, Bhaal would have wanted them out of the way.
The Urge building and building, sending her flip-flopping between moments of bloodlust and lucidity filled with fear, until the Urge took her away completely.
(Would the Urge even work like that for any of this? Who cares, just gonna do as Larian does, my city now).
TL;DR: I don't even know, it's still stewing in there.
- - -
Though I've watched like every Durge related video on YouTube, I haven't actually played very far in Aurora's playthrough, mostly bc I'm waiting for Larian to stop breaking the game with every new patch 🙈
Meaning I haven't actually had a lot of time with her interacting with the companions and gotten a good feel for where they're at.
Wyll and Shadowheart are possible candidates for some at least surface level boding. Like Wyll's whole "self sacrifice for the good of others" thing, and with Shadowheart they both have been brainwashed and forced into cruelty in service of an evil god.
And Karlach bc I love her and I said so.
Maybe some more interesting dynamics will pop up once I really get in there with her 🤔 (Larian fix your shit already, I want to plaaay)
There's also Jay who's already wrangling every other companion and their problems, so I'm sure he'll have some fingers in her pies too eventually (it's what he does, after all).
-
The only solid relationship to have formed in my head as of yet is her romance, and bc I'm as original as a pair of earbuds from AliExpress, she eventually starts a thing with Astarion.
He initially sees her as an easy target, a shy and possibly meek person quite literally removed from the others at camp (a deliberate choice on her part), but it doesn't go quite as he had planned.
I've written a whole post about it that's hanging out in my drafts, but tl;dr: he tries to bite her, but she wakes and angrily sends him away. She later comes to him one night, panicked after the Murder At Camp™, and he (begrudgingly) agrees to help her with the body. This begins this weird partnership where they keep each other's secret, and she lets him drink from her as thanks for helping her.
Their relationship is a bit rocky at first, like they don't hate each other or anything, but there's a fair share of bickering and such. She can be a bit blunt, and is too impatient and exhausted from the urge to deal with his very obvious mind games, tiredly telling him "stop trying to seduce me, you already have what you came for".
When he offers to sleep with her at the party, she thinks "why not". They're already putting each other at risk, so might as well have some fun with it. He might have tried to bed her sooner if she hadn't been so blunt and unapproachable, but it did also give him some time to rethink his strategy. Based on finds with the freecam during his party sex scene, he has set up a lil spot on a blanket, with wine and maybe some food, in an attempt to seem more genuine, which admittedly she does find a little cute.
Ultimately it's all the bits in between, the quiet moments after feeding or sex that gives them an excuse to talk, and they realize they enjoy each other's company a lot more than they first thought. She vibes with him a lot more when he's being genuine, something she sees more of when he's fed and generally less guarded.
She've kept her distance from the others bc of the urge, in fear of either harming someone, or being discovered through the tadpoles somehow. It puts her on edge constantly, but Astarion already knows, and she knows he doesn't judge her for it, so she's more at ease too.
Aurora can become ride or die pretty fast, especially in combination with other intense personality traits (hello devotion), and I think maybe Astarion picks up on that and thinks he can use that to his advantage. At least until he too accidentally catches feelings and becomes pretty ride or die himself lmao. Great job idiot.
Which is also when her more self sacrificing nature goes from something that could be to his advantage, to something that actively upsets him. Stop it! Stop sacrificing yourself for others who probably don't even deserve it! Stop putting yourself in situations that could take you away from me for no good reason.
They're note super lovey-dovey either. Like sure there's romance and tenderness there, but there's also some clash of personalities ("stop being an asshole" "stop trying to be such a bloody hero"). Nothing too bad but there's definitively something for them to work on.
This became the Aurora and Astarion post, sorry about that (not really). I hope to have some better answers to these in the future, my brain is still cooking (unfortunately it's a slowcooker).
5 notes · View notes
residentdormouse · 1 year
Text
Writer Game Tag:
Thank you @mrsmungus for the tag!!
Tagging: @chickensarentcheap @asirensrage and if anybody wants to join, please do so and @ me!
Let me preface this with a disclaimer - I've only written 1 very canon based fanfic, 3/4ths of another, and a short 500 word blurb. Nothing straight up original aside from a really rough script from college that will not be posted. Ever. I am nowhere close to understanding my writing or getting a solid process. Winging it, guys 😂😅😬
Do you write in order?
For the most part, the actual writing is in order, but I get antsy and have a few scenes that I just can't wait for. I had a bit of a head start with Spiral (started posting when I had a full 11 chapters completed) so it had more random scenes finalized beforehand that I would copy/paste in when their time came.
I have no safety net with Diving, so there's really only miscellaneous lines that I didn't want to forget in a few docs and one actual full scene written beyond the chapter I'm actively working on.
I will say that I have been structuring around 5 scenes a chapter, and I will bounce back and forth between them, if that counts?
Do you start with something in particular?
Undying love for a fictional character? I really wasn't planning on writing, but there was nothing on AO3 for the 2020 Stand version of Glen. I get it, small fandom, working primarily within a not well received adaptation of the story. I don't choose my hyperfixs, they choose me. But yeah, I fell in love with this take on the character. So I guess I started with that, and went on a 'I want this character to get some love, and maybe not die' daydream side mission.
How fully formed does your writing come out the first time?
Spiral is very canon based, so it already had the story backbone. I was just combining all the parts from the various forms of this story that I liked into one Frankenstein mess, added an OC insert character, and created new scenes to incorporate/build relationships. I wrote the scenes out and just went over with a structure/word choice sweep mostly.
Diving's plot is me just squishing concepts from other stories I like together, so this I had to outline first. Vague large outline bullet points, moved to slightly more detailed chapter breakdown bullets/scene breakdown objectives, then to writing the scenes out in full.
How many drafts do you go through?
After outlining, I usually just pick the first draft I write for a week or two. I use almost all of what I write, it just needs reorganized or reworded sometimes.
Tell me about your process.
Once I have an outline with the scenes and goals for a chapter, I usually go for straight dialog first, with estentially stage directions connecting it. I'll write this at nights on my phone after everybody's asleep or during my hour break (small children and all). Then on my lunch break when I can use a computer and actual keyboard, I'll flesh out what I wrote the night before. Bulk of creative writing is done on my phone though.
All of Spiral and the first two sections of Diving, I was averaging a chapter a week, but this last section is about two weeks for a chapter now. I'll brainstorm on the weekend, write dialog/fill in through the week, do a final once over and post on Friday (or every other Friday lately).
6 notes · View notes
heartfelttry · 28 days
Text
this is the excerpt i mentioned in My Thepandaredd's OC Notes about my hc of Bill The Professional Henchman's surname being "Bail" and my OC (Kaycie Harjo, they/them, who eventually works as an apprentice to Alfred Pennyworth since he is already p fucking elderly and you cannot convince me he is the only staff-person in the manor) ragging on him about how fake of surname that sounds like
this is not the finished form of the scene. it is just me having written down this scene a few weeks ago (out of fear my chronic memory loss would eat it) and am now just gonna copy-paste it. this is a first rough-draft. excuse any/all mispellings, im dyslexic and, to the best of my memory-loss-riddled recollection, i do not think this isn't edited in the slightest
optional context for scene:
Bill betrayed Kaycie's trust, hurt their feelings, that kind of thing (no spoilers). he finally got them to come see him at a Big Belly Burger, his suggestion of "neutral territory". he came early, bought them food. Kaycie stormed in, sat down with crossed arms, refused his food, and went all "Talk." / "...That's ruder than a Pinkie Pie like you usually gets." / "You said you wanted to talk, Bill, so fucking talk." and this is Bill's big apology gesture of good faith bc he misses his friend to get back on their good side: letting Kaycie know his fucking surname (so stupid lmao)
also, they became best friends over quite a bit of time, it's not a speedy affair. i'm torn on one of two possible ways they became friends (and then best friends). doesn't matter for the following out-of-context scene; i just wanted it known i do have plans. also, i feel compelled to mention that i do see Bill as older than Kaycie by quite some years. picture "Ted Lasso"'s Keely and Rebecca kind of age-gap friendship ("intergenerational" is the better term than "age-gap", probably, but it isn't as funny to me lol). but maybe i'll change that (i definitely will if Bill is supposed to be closer to the older Bat-kids age, like Kaycie is. i currently see Bill as at least 12+ years older than Dick Grayson but some-odd years younger than Bruce Wayne's age)
also, if thepandaredd ever reads this: i do apologize if i have characterized Bill incorrectly. again, first draft version of writing the character, still learning about him, i digress
Kaycie made a face at Bill's phone-screen, where the big secret he was holding up was a simple singular sentence, newly written and about to be newly deleted in his phone's notes. "Wait... your last-name is Bail?" They crossed their arms. "So, like your name is 'Bill Bail'? Are you fucking kidding me? That, like, almost rhymes. And is it really like, bail money, where you pronounce that like 'bailed on the job once the Bats arrived'-kind-of-'bail'?" Kaycie's face scrunched up at Bill's cagy nod. "No." They stopped being quiet. "No, you had to have picked this, this has to be a fake name, absolutely not."
Bill waved upset shushing sounds at them. ("Oh, you did not just shush me, Billie.") "Not so fucking loud." He hissed, equally as failing to be subtle now. "Are you done? Or do you have more bullshit to get out of your fucking system?"
"I just think if you were going to lie to me, you know, Hench and Henchman are real last-names, your fake-name could at least be kind of funny. Or convincing. No parent would ever pick Bill Bail for their kid's name."
"Actually, my parents named me William Bail, fuck you very much."
Kaycie paused. "You're serious."
"I opened up to you."
"Wow." They said, deadpanned. "I can see why this is such a vulnerable topic for you."
"I'm a henchman," He leaned in, pointing at them, whispering as he looked suspicously around at the Big Belly Burger's other customers. "I'm not supposed to tell anybody my fucking name."
"Can't be hard with a name like that," Kaycie rolled their lips together. "Everyone will think you're lying as soon as you say it."
"I can't risk giving the villains or other goons my goddamn family tree of fucking weaknesses."
"Right, right, right." They were beginning to fucking giggle at him as they reached all the way over the table to steal his fries— fries he got them that they had claimed they didn't even want back when they were mad at him. "Because the Joker and Punchline totally look through a person's Facebook when wanting to manipulate them."
"Ugh." Bill fell back into the red and yellow, sparkly booth. These fucking seats smelled like mustard. Gross. "Shut up."
"Sorry," They smiled, "I meant Two-Face and Instagram."
"Will you fucking stop?"
"The Riddler and Twitter."
"Don't make me regret telling you."
"How does that work by the way?" Kaycie talked while eating and Bill just watched them. "Not telling anybody you work with your name, but then there's the Goonion and all its paperwork? Also, like, your phone contacts would do you in too, right? Just yoink, bam, weaknesses."
Bill waited for some dad-joke punchline to somehow enter the dialogue. But none came. His muscles untensed. "The villains and shit get our ID numbers and bar-codes if they want to re-hire us, along with a list of what we approve to be called by them. And most henchmen in the Goonion keep their personal phones at home, locked up while they're on the job, and keep a burner at work."
"But you don't." Kaycie pointed a fry at him like one would a finger. I know you.
Bill squirmed a bit. "I don't," He relented. "I memorize my people's phone-numbers so I'm not leaving a list of my vulnerabilities in a handheld box like a fucking moron, and I have a bot auto-delete my texts after 2 hours if I'm not deleting them myself. Plus, there's some black market apps to scramble who I'm calling, so I don't have to worry about them finding my call-log, like a VPN kind of. Because of course the black market has its own fucking app-store by now." Remembering the legalities of court-rooms and eavesdroppers and people the G.C.P.D. wire, he added, "Allegedly. I wouldn't know. I would check if there was such an app-store if I hypothetically needed to do hench-work. Which I don't." He leaned in close to them again, his voice hushed as he pushed Kaycie all "his" fries. "They don't even fucking know my name is William, y'know, I'm waiting for you to be fucking grateful."
"Mmhmm." Kaycie pushed the fries back to be mid-way between them to share before taking another small handful. "Yes, I do feel incredibly special knowing your parents didn't think through your nickname-plus-surname combo before finalizing your birth-certificate. This must have been hard for you to admit."
"I'll have you know that I happen to like my name."
Disbelief made Kaycie freeze mid-bite. "Do you really?"
"Yes." A pause. "Mostly."
Kaycie resumed eating. "I'm just skeptical because you sure do say 'It's Bill, just Bill' a lot."
"I just explained why I do that!" 
"Have I hit your limit on fondly mocking you?"
Bill sighed, pinching his nose-bridge. "Almost."
"Good, because I now need to know if your parents' names are also dumb." [*]
"And, just like that, my limit has been suddenly fucking hit." He sagged back as he turned his head away with crossed arms, much like a preteen sibling stubbornly would. "I'm not answering that today, try again never."
"Fine." Kaycie pouted before hesitating shyly. "...I am touched though. Just so you know." They pushed the fries closer to him. Eat.
"Yeah?" He ate a couple of fries, mostly so Kaycie themself would feel free to eat more.
"Mmhm." Kaycie did take more. Predictable. "Which is weird. I never thought there was intimacy in knowing a person's last-name before. I am glad I know it." They pointed at him sternly. "I better not read it in any obituary sections of upcoming newspapers. No becoming collateral damage, not allowed."
"Yeah." He looked down, rubbing his knuckles. "I... hope you don't die anytime soon, too."
"D'aww, Billie! You're such a softie."
"Wha-?" Bill jolted up. "Am not! Besides, you said it first!"
"But not as sweet and mushy as you did! You don't want me to die! That's so cute."
"Ugh." Bill sank back into the plastic-y booth and tipped the bill of his hat down, the way some old men do before a nap or some idiots do to hide their face from someone searching for them. "You're hitting on my stupid sap limit too, y'know."
"You love me, and I love you," They leaned their face close to the table to meet his eyes to spite him, "And we now both know each other's names, and we're besties!"
"Hey!" He whispered harshly, though Kaycie just quietly scoffed at him and how Bill's shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he moved his hat back up so his eyes could better look side to side. The pair was at a Big Belly Burger in broad daylight, not some villain-only speakeasy. "Not so loud." And just because he knew he couldn't deny the "love" bit without making Kaycie just as mad at Bill as they were before they got here, he said: "And we are not fucking 'besties'."
"Right, right, right. We are," Kaycie puffed out their chest and spoke in a deep 'man' voice, "'Best friends'." And then relaxed, smug about purposefully missing his point. They don't notice how Bill's face changes for a moment. "Afterall, your street cred is in dire need of protection and that is the manly way to say the thing."
Bill snorted, softening his shoulders yet tightening his fist, as he nodded his chin up. "Fuck yeah, it is."
Kaycie broke at that, cackling happily, which made Bill start keel over with some soft chuckles too. His concern for anyone staring dissolved a bit, at least for a while.
Because there was an underlying sadness to Bill's from the moment his face changed, the type of dejection people usually only have when they're so happy with their dog or cat that they make themselves sad over the intrusive reminder that their lifetimes don't match up enough for things to be like this forever. Bill's firmness that they were definitely not "besties", the point behind it being for Kaycie to not accidentally make themself a target, fell away to the realization that he might not have many chances to affirm that. The fact that he does value them so highly. That they are close. He might die. He might have to hide, disappear, never come back or get back in contact. 
Or, worse, someone might realize Bill has some new, local, walking, talking blackmail material and go after Kaycie. It was more likely people would realize Kaycie has some level of importance to the Wayne Manor due to their job, and use Kaycie to those ends, sure. But Bill wasn't a stranger to refusing to cross certain lines, picking and choosing his battles, and nonetheless making higher-ups very mad about it; or, hell, even going head to head with another henchman who maybe just was particularly petty and dangerous enough. Any of them might look around for a person as a way to control Bill. And if they get to Kaycie, it will work. Kaycie could get hurt or die because of Bill himself, directly. 
Because there was no way both of them would live to be wrinkly old fucks, no way Bill would ever be anything but the "torn away from us too soon" type, despite Kaycie's past insistences of them someday arguing over bingo and what time the movie downtown was showing. Bill would be so fucking lucky if he had another five, ten years of being this close to someone. He'd be so downright grateful if he could even have a guarantee on another three-odd months.
He was usually better at avoiding this kind of thing, at keeping friendly but never bonding. Something was going to give. An anvil-sized shoe will drop fucking soon.
And, with that kind of sobering thought: a little indulgement against the inevitable tragedy Kaycie Harjo would wreck onto his heart was simple. Kaycie always let him know they loved their best friend; he just wanted to let them know it was mutual, as much as he could let himself tell them anyway.
In that moment, it felt really good to not be scared or scary. Addictive, even.
---
[*] : i dont have hc names for Bill's parents, but a lady married into the Bail family-name being called "Monet Bail" (that's one of my bff's middle names! she was given it bc her dad wanted her to "get that money 'moneehh'", i kid you not, it was almost her first name because her dad liked that joke so much) with her husband nicknamed "Skipper" would be funny puns. but i truly think Bill's parents probably have unfunny, benign names. nonetheless, this is what Kaycie will assume his parents are called until told proven otherwise
● i also feel a bit inclined to mention Kaycie Harjo is based off of my labels (bc i never see a fictional character fully match all of me, and i am hungry for representation) but their personality is different than mine (for instance: im shy, jumpy, and overthinking to the point of arguable paranoia) (which i do love self-inserts btw, Kaycie is just not one of those). but yeah, i just have never seen another Indigenous American character who looks like me (i'm pale, short, and have short-hair, bc apparently hair on my neck is a sensory-overload for my peanut brain) that is a two-spirited feminine they/them in media; and in addition to all that, is one that is not powerful. at least, Kaycie's eventual peak "power level" is p equal to Alfred "He is just a British veteran guy with a gun and some damn fine aim for his age, innit?" Pennyworth's peak (his peak as a butler, not when he was an active soldier)— where, despite their lack of power/prowess yet is still valuable to everyone; again, despite the vast amounts of ways Kaycie cannot contribute to the team and is actually a burden to them, Kaycie is still considered valuable (wow, it's almost like my disabled ambulatory-wheelchair-user ass who cannot do a lot of "productive" physical shit is projecting, that's wild). so like. there's Kaycie basic info for you. surprise, it is v similar to mine, i wonder why lol
0 notes
heliads · 3 years
Text
How to Move On
Based on this request: “A ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. An angst story please :)”
masterlist
Tumblr media
When he was alive, Luke Patterson lived five houses down from one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen. It still surprises him that he has to tack on that first part to describe anything that happened in his life before, like if he shuts his eyes hard enough he’ll find himself back in the 90s, when he had a pulse and a heartbeat and people could see him if he walked out onto the street.
However, an unseen blade cuts a little too deep whenever he thinks about his current situation, so Luke allows himself to fall deeper into the memory instead of returning back to reality. She’d lived five houses down, right? Or was it four? Luke has hardly been brought back as a ghost for a few weeks before he’s started losing his grasp on the details that bound his life. They’re all slipping through his fingertips, gone now in recollection as well as his ability to return to them in person.
Yes, five houses down- he’s certain of it now. Whenever he wanted to sneak out of his house to go visit her, Luke had to climb out of his window and weave through two backyards before he could risk returning to the sidewalk for another three houses. Five houses down, that’s right. Luke curses himself mentally, not wanting to forget another detail. He’s already lost the girl, he doesn’t want to lose the few figments of her in his memory. A ghost of her for the ghost he already is.
If he managed to sneak out of his house and make it down five houses, as he so often did, Luke could then toss small pebbles at one moonlit window. It usually only took two or three of these interactions before the window would be hurriedly unlatched, a beaming face peering out at him. Luke would allow himself a second of staring, admiring the way the moonlight cast the girl in a bone-white halo, then haul himself up into the room.
From the second his feet touched down on the bedroom floor, Luke would be in safe territory. He still took precautions, of course, keeping his voice down and his movements quiet. However, Y/N L/N always seemed to have a secret oasis in the form of her room, and he was never once caught. They both made sure of it, and if he and Y/N worked together, they could achieve any goal so long as it was worth it.
Y/N L/N. She was the one he’d left behind, one of the aches that hurt the most. He’d been lucky enough to win her love, either through some complete misunderstanding or maybe the fact that he’d finally done something right in his life, but he had her nonetheless. Or, he’d had her until the day he’d died, leaving behind nothing in his wake but grieving parents and the girl he’d sworn to stay with for the rest of his life. Well, his promise had come true in one sense, although Luke can’t help but wish there was another way around it.
To be completely honest, even as Luke dreads forgetting any detail of his past girl, he might fear thinking about her even more. It’s not that he wants to lose the picture of her smile in his head, or the way she’d reach for him when she was cold, it’s just that to think of her in any sense is like a knife stabbing him through the ribs, reminding him that he’ll never get her back. If he tries to push her from his mind, he won’t remember the way she’ll never be with him again. Isn’t that better?
Luke already knows the answer: no, not at all. Even this one slip in his memory, the faltering knowledge of how far apart their houses were, sends a jolt of worry spiking through him. Luke wouldn’t consider himself forgetful, maybe just a little absentminded, but the fact that he’s already starting to forget his past life worries him. However, to keep Y/N’s picture cherished in his mind means reminding himself of everything that he’d lost, of finally confronting all the memories he’s been holding back for so long.
Eventually, Luke finds himself in the studio, searching through the boxes and crates of stuff that had eventually made its way into dusty corners and spiderwebbed cracks of the room. Julie’s mom had been kind enough to keep at least some of Sunset Curve’s possessions, and so Luke ransacks these sparse belongings now. At last, his hand emerges triumphant, carrying with it an old photo album. It’s thin, spine scarcely thicker than a small paperback, but for the way he looks at it its pages could be lined with gold.
Luke pauses a second, steeling himself before flipping open the front cover. Instantly, he’s hit with a wave of memories. These first few photos had been taken a year or so before he died, when he had first started dating Y/N and everything seemed like he was living a dream. There are Polaroids from their first few dates, snapshots of festivals and boardwalks and everything a couple of teenagers could afford when they were young and stupidly in love.
Luke studies these, then the next couple of pages, and then the next. He must have been more distracted than he’d first thought, because he doesn’t notice Julie Molina enter the studio until she’s practically standing on top of him. Julie clears his throat, and he startles, doing his best to quickly close the album. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite right to so openly share his memories of Y/N to anyone within eyesight.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Are we practicing?” Luke asks. Julie laughs, her smile a tad incredulous. “Not yet, but I’m a little worried as to why you were so quick to hide that book. What, are you trying to keep secrets from me?” Her eyes assure him that this question is purely an excuse to tease him, but Luke can’t find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he sits back down on the floor of the studio, gesturing listlessly to the empty space next to him.
“Not entirely. It’s just- well, I found this old photo album, and it’s kind of hard to not regret leaving everything behind. The current day is good, don’t get me wrong, and I love the band, but-” Julie picks up on his train of thought even as Luke’s voice trails off. “It’s not what you’re used to, and you feel bad about everything you could have had. I get it. I’m surprised you’ve adjusted so well, to be honest. It can’t be easy to leave your entire life behind.”
Luke lets out a quiet sigh. “Exactly.” After a moment’s consideration, he picks up the photo album again, opening the cover and passing it to Julie. She accepts it, glancing at him one last time to make sure he’s alright with baring his soul to her. A soft smile traces its way onto her face as she sees the photos of him and Y/N, grins so bright they could practically light up the world. “Who is this?”
Her finger lingers over a photo Luke had taken of Y/N. She had been wearing a Sunset Curve shirt, one of their first attempts at a logo. They’d long since changed the design, but she had said something about how her boys were so official and taken the first draft t-shirt nonetheless. Y/N had worn it to many shows since then, until the design faded into nothingness and she’d been forced to get a new one. Luke’s voice softens. “That’s Y/N. She is- she was my girlfriend. Back in the 90s, at least.”
Luke hates the way he has to say that, like she’s died instead of him. She was his girlfriend, they had known each other, they are each utterly different now and there is no getting back what they’d once had. Julie glances over at him, sympathy radiating from her gaze, but then she turns back to the photo, frowning over it in something that almost looks like recognition. “Wait, you said her name was Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?”
Luke sits bolt upright, melancholy thoughts completely forgotten. “Yes! How did you know that? Do you know her?” Julie’s excitement starts to bleed away from her, as if she knows something that ruins the dream she had been so thrilled to share. “Well, yes, but she’s not Y/N L/N anymore. She has a different last name now.” Luke picks up on what Julie is unwilling to say, and his stomach sinks a little. She has a different last name because she’s married, because she’s moved on.
Even as he thinks this, Luke feels annoyed at himself. Of course she’s moved on- he died 25 years ago. There’s no reason she would never love again, and even if she did, Luke would never want that for her. She was so bright, so happy, that the thought of herself locked away in mournful grief like his parents seems so utterly wrong that if that happened she might as well have died with him. Still, Luke doesn’t like thinking that there’s someone else out there receiving her smiles, hearing her hopes and dreams late at night the way he had once listened to her.
Luke must have gone silent for too long, because Julie is looking over at him again, pity written in every line of her face. She thinks for a second longer, then stands up, holding out her hand to him. “She still lives near here, actually. A few streets down. Do you want to go see her?” Luke stares at her, then rushes to his feet. “You mean it? You know where she is?” Julie nods. “Only if you’re willing to see her.” She’s right to worry- seeing Y/N again will mean finally coming to terms with everything Luke had left behind when he’d died, a final piece of proof that Y/N will never be his again. Still, if he hides away from her again, Luke will spend the rest of his ghosthood wondering what she might have been like and who she may have become. So, he nods, and allows Julie to lead him from the studio and down the blocks to Y/N’s house.
Even without Julie’s directions, Luke would know their destination even before she points out Y/N’s front door. He sees her in every corner of the building, every flower and tree planted in the yard. She’d always wanted a brightly painted front door, tall trees in the backyard so she could have a little shade on the summer days. They’d once planned what their future houses would look like, always choosing one for the two of them. If Luke sees traces of his ideas in her house now, does that mean Y/N still thinks of him? Or that she’s already forgotten that it was his voice suggesting those changes and not her own, that he’s already faded into the last few corners of her memory?
His feet stall in the driveway, but at an encouraging look from Julie, Luke forces himself to walk up the final few feet to stop in front of the front door. He reaches forward and rings the doorbell himself, although he can do no more once the door swings open. This will be Julie’s part- Luke can do no more than watch the woman in front of him with wide eyes.
She still looks like her. Is that a strange thing to say? She’s taller now, her face more lined and weary as if she’s had a lifetime of problems to deal with ever since Luke left her days. It makes sense that she looks older- the last time Luke saw her was 25 years ago, so she’s probably in her forties now. Still, there are traces of the girl he’d known in every movement, every step. When she looks questioningly at Julie, Luke can see the way she’d looked at him to ask when and where Sunset Curve would be performing so she could make sure to arrive on time. The gesture is so truthfully her that it practically hurts to see.
Julie’s eyes dart to Luke, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then she focuses her gaze firmly on Y/N. “I, uh, was cleaning out my mom’s old studio. I found something from the band who used to practice there- they went by the name of Sunset Curve? Your name was on one of the photos.” It’s a duplicate photo strip from a photo booth on a long-since demolished boardwalk, an excuse for the visit. Still, it’s enough to make Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks at Julie as if she’s punched a hole right through her chest.
She gestures for Julie to follow her inside. Luke drifts in after them, staring at the photos lining the walls, the backpacks flung in a corner of the room. So she has children, a family. How long had it taken her to move on from him? She smiles in every family portrait he sees, but did she ever think about the boy she’d left behind? Would it matter that much to him if she did?
Julie hands Y/N the photo strip now, and tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she looks at herself and Luke, decades younger and what feels like centuries happier. Julie, thank everything, is unwilling to let Y/N leave without asking her about the boy she’d left behind. “Did you know him well? The boy in the photos?” Y/N glances up sharply at Julie, startling as if she’d forgotten there was a girl in front of her, too drowned in the memories of the past to remember reality. It’s a familiar feeling to Luke, and it stings to see it on this older Y/N too.
“Yes, I did. Very well, in fact. I loved him with all of my heart until he died along with his bandmates.” She laughs quietly, the sound broken through with utter misery. It twists Luke’s heart like a blade. “I almost didn’t make it through the funeral. I was sitting next to his parents, and we were sobbing like we’d never smile again. He was everything to me, and I had no idea what to do when he was gone. I wish you could have met him- he was always so quick to a smile or a laugh. I never told him how much I liked his smile. I wish I had.”
Luke stumbles as if he’s been punched. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he swipes at them angrily with his shirt sleeve. Why should he have to cry now, mourn everything he’d lost? Hasn’t he been through enough? Y/N swallows harshly. “It’s easy to get lost in the past. I graduated high school without him, went to college without him. I didn’t think I’d ever have to live a day without him, and suddenly I had an entire future completely empty of anyone like him. There are days when I almost think I see him in a crowd, and days when it gets easier. In the end, I think he’d want me to move forward, even as hard as that may be.”
Julie glances over at Luke once more, scarcely a second away from tears herself. “Yeah, I think he’d want you to be happy. That above all else.” Y/N sighs, the sound cutting through Luke and almost sending him to the floor. “Thank you for the photos, Julie. You take care of yourself.” Julie smiles. “I will. Thank you too.” Luke, sensing the imminent goodbye, takes one last furtive glance around the house. What if he had been there, present in every family photo and every line in her journals? He wishes nothing more than to have that option, to be able to go back, but he can’t.
So, he allows himself to follow Julie back out into the sunshine of the afternoon, and when the door closes softly behind him, he doesn’t look back. Julie is silent on the walk back, as is he. Luke heads for the studio, and he stops before the photo album before glancing up at the walls around him. If he tries hard enough, Luke thinks he can see her in every corner of the studio. There she is on the couch, laughing as she pretends to smack him with a pillow. There she is next to him on the piano, listening to his latest song. There are hundreds of her in the studio, hundreds of memories. That’s all he has left of her. Just memories and nothing more.
Julie returns to find him later, and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to cut across the room, landing on the photo newly pinned to the wall. There are two figures in it, a boy and a girl grinning madly as they reach for each other in a dusky night. Both of them are long gone now, dead and aged even as their photo-selves smile on. If Luke looks back at the photo now, keeping that image burned into his mind, he never speaks of it again.
requested by @charliegillespiewife​
jatp tag list: someone who i would not leave behind if i died in the 90s @underc0vercryptid​
158 notes · View notes
stutterfly · 3 years
Text
Love Bytes 09 |  Trivia: 01001100 | KNJ (M)
Tumblr media
Last time on Love Bytes 08: After a night that left your head spinning, your best friend confessed his feelings for you. Now that you’ve admitted the same, everything is different.... but is it?
Rating: M (Explicit 18+)
Word Count: 17K
Series: Love Bytes (9/9)
Genre: Friends to lovers, IDIOTS to LOVERS, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, angst, pining, sexual tension, SMUT, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, IT/Nerd!Reader
CW& Other Tags: corny humor, nipple play, an absurd amount of kissing, dirty talk, grinding, fingering, hair pulling, sexual instruction, let’s play just the tip, cunnilingus, blowjob, protected sex, sexual roleplay, unprotected sex, adoring boyfriendJoonie, suave Joonie, supportive friendships, love talk, dorks in love
Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7
Posted January 2021 by stutterfly & cross-posted to ao3. Do not repost.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You’ve crossed the line you’ve been so afraid of only to discover there really isn’t anything to fear at all. Namjoon has already made you a totally non-burnt breakfast and told you about the success of his student following the release of the poetry program. When he brings up the poem he wrote as an example, you beg him to read it for you.
He apologizes again for that day when you clicked on the document containing the draft, with dozens and dozens of half-thoughts and scribbled words placed within. He wasn't ready to show you then. He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You look over his shoulder as he clicks a vaguely familiar document labeled: Trivia_L_Final. Unable to sate your curiosity, your eyes scan through the first few lines but he quickly flips the screen down.
“Patience."
"Ugh," you complain. "But you said I could see."
"I said I was gonna share," he clarifies with a snort. "That doesn't mean I want your speed-reading ass going through it at lightspeed without understanding any of it."
"Fair." You cross your arms but stare at him expectantly, trying your best to be patient.
“Is this love?”
He pauses to spare a glance up from the screen and freezes when his eyes meet yours. Even after everything you’ve shared he still finds himself sweating through the thin tank top he’s put on. Although he’s sure he’s masked his apprehension behind a wall of stone, all it takes is your soft, reassuring smile to break through. A wave of serenity quickly douses the anxiety. It crashes against his wall, and erodes its harsh edges until all that’s left is a familiar longing to kiss your lips.
“Is this love?” he repeats with emphasis. “Sometimes I know. Sometimes I don’t.”
He can’t stop grinning at the way your smitten gaze matches his own. It’s a difficult decision, but ultimately he chooses to ignore the urge to pull you in for the hundredth kiss of the morning and continues on instead. You sit and listen, hanging on every word you know was painstakingly thought out and written for you.
You're my person. You're my desire. You're my pride.
You're my love. One and only love.
The closing words are left echoing in your head. It’s so easy for you to forget that Namjoon is as smart as he is. Right now you feel too stupid to respond. Nothing can possibly match the perfection of his poem.
“Please say something.” He quickly closes his laptop and sets it aside. “Actually, wait, don't. It was too much wasn’t it?” He reaches over and places a large palm over your forehead and begins lightly rubbing. “Delete it from your brain.”
A laugh bubbles from your throat. “What are you doing?”
“Wiping your hard drive.”
His response has you cackling. Did he really just make such a lame joke all on his own? You grab his wrist and pull him close while a big cheesy grin graces your features. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
He groans as he leans in and pauses before kissing you. “You are.”
His hand gently cups the back of your neck as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. You lose yourself to the rhythm of your tongues rolling across one another, hungry to keep tasting and feeling. It takes every ounce of self control you have to pull away long enough to breathe out a compliment.
“You’re incredible. Your poem is so good.”
“I had a good muse.” He smiles and moves in for another kiss but you press a finger to his lips.
“I mean it. I love what you wrote. I don’t think anyone’s ever written anything so beautiful with me in mind.”
To spare himself from the embarrassment tingling in his belly, he presses his lips to the pad of your finger with a few light, teasing kisses before moving to repeat the motion against your neck. Goosebumps immediately prickle at your flesh and you can’t help the way your hands travel along the warmth of his body, seeking to consume his heat to assuage the chill in yours.
“You make it easy,” he mumbles, kissing a line up to your ear.
“Do I? I thought I made it harder.” Your smile grows impossibly bigger as you reach down to palm him through his basketball shorts and find exactly what you’d been hoping to.
A breathy sigh warms the shell of your ear. “Fuck. You know you do.” He drags the lobe through his teeth and exhales another sigh at the way you tease his shaft. “Wanna practice?”
He whispers the words against your ear like they’re some secret he’s almost too shy to reveal and you deliver your response with equal timidity. “Please?”
Warm fingers press into the skin at your stomach and travel upward. The action disregards the flimsy white fabric of your borrowed shirt, which slides up with the rising of his arm. You think he's about to cup your breast when he suddenly changes direction and slides his fingers around your ribs to tickle you.
"Na-Namjoon!"
You're a little offended that he would do you dirty like this when you basically just begged him to fuck you for the second time today. But, if you're being honest you're also incredibly grateful. He knows how to take the nerves out of everything with such ease that you almost forget how new this aspect of your relationship is.
You grab at his hand, effectively pulling him down into a kiss brimming with laughter between the pair of you. When you try to retaliate he grabs your wrists to keep your cold fingers at bay. As his tongue dips into your mouth again, he slowly guides your hands above your head. You shift beneath him, spreading your legs so he can slot a knee between them and get even closer. It feels like it's always been this way. Nothing's going to change. This is just you guys. It's always been you guys.
At the heart of your friendship, it's always been about you being dorks together and having each other's backs. You'd never considered the possibility of adding even more physicality to it before but now you don't want to imagine life without it because it feels so fucking good. It feels so fucking right.
Instead of bearing his weight down on you, he drags your bottom lip through his teeth and lets it snap back. He hums a satisfied sound as he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. Your head feels light and for a moment it feels like you might float away, but his arms are strong and they ground you in a tight embrace. He begins walking you backwards and peppers your neck with light kisses.
“Trying to get me back into your bed, huh?” you tease.
He brushes his nose against your neck and inhales deeply, taking in your scent before expelling an airy, audible sigh. “Ah… You see right through me. I mean we could do it on the couch if you prefer. I just thought it might be a little more comfortable, you know, somewhere where I can lay you down so you don’t get a leg cramp or anything.”
You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “How considerate.”
“Yeah, you know, ‘cause I plan on being between your legs as long as it takes.”
“Oh?” You feign ignorance. As he spins you towards him you’re glad he’s holding you steady because it feels like you’re about to faint. “As long as it takes for what?”
The tone of his voice drops low as he leans against your ear. “To make you cum.”
You stiffen in his embrace, frozen by interwoven fears of inability and inadequacy.
“Is that okay?” he asks, guiding your stiff form towards the bed.
The large, borrowed t-shirt bunches up around your thighs as you sit on the edge. It seems like every few days he’s telling himself he’s never seen you look so beautiful. Maybe you’re really to blame for the increased frequency. Now you’re looking at him in a similar light to the way he’s always seen you, and it’s added a new layer to everything.
“Yeah.” You nod, pausing to chew on your lip. “Just… don’t expect too much, okay?”
“Hey, no pressure. I promise. I just want to make you feel good.”
You pull him into a kiss before wiggling backwards up the bed. He follows your lead, slotting a knee between your legs as he climbs over you in an attempt to chase your lips.
“You do make me feel good. All the time.”
He assails your neck with kisses until he’s hovering above your lips. “Really good, though. Like right now. Right here.”
He takes a moment to meet your eyes as he ghosts his fingertips over your stomach, traveling down towards your mound. Almost as if he second guesses himself he stops and moves his hand back up to rest just above your navel.
“Can I try again?”
An embarrassed smile creeps across your face. “You really want to, huh?”
“Of course.” He pauses and his voice drops to a low whisper. “Will you show me how you like it?”
Your palms slide up your cheeks until your fingers cover your eyes. You purse your lips and try to keep your brain from short-circuiting. “Joooon.”
“What?” He shakes his head and offers a small laugh. “Why are you so shy now?”
“Because,” you murmur.
“Because...?” he prods when you leave the explanation unsaid.
“I’m embarrassed.” The words tumble out in a whisper but he seems to catch them regardless.
Hot, sweaty palms encircle your wrists and push them aside. It doesn’t take much effort to separate your hands from your face and when he does he slides his hands up to meet yours. In perfect sync, the pair of you weave your fingers together like you have a thousand times before.
The truth is that you want him. You want him so badly that your cheeks are on fire and all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. Despite seeing his mouth in motion, every nerve ending in your body is preparing for his touch. Anticipation overrides every other command in the forefront of your mind as your knuckles press into the pillows beside your head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Your body is perfect. I could spend all day exploring it, exploring you. I wanna learn what feels good for you. Teach me. Teach me how to make you cum.”
In a stupor you blink slowly and gape at him in wonder, offering a tiny wordless nod. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to instruct him with much success. It’s not like you’re a teacher in any sense of the word and it’s definitely not something you’ve ever tried to talk through with a partner. But his eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light and the sight floods you with the determination to try, even if you don’t know how to begin.
Luckily Namjoon has an idea to assist with comfortability. He carefully positions himself beside you and runs his fingers down your chest, basking in the sight of your areola, which are perfectly visible through the faded fabric.
“You look so hot in my shirt.”
Your ears flush with heat at the compliment. Massaging light circles around the nipple he’s chosen to tease, he watches in wonder as it grows rigid. He experiments, alternating featherlight touches with a tiny pinch between his fingers.
“Do you like this?”
Words seem to escape you at the moment so you nod and mirror his actions on your other nipple. The barrier between his fingers frustrates your growing desire for skin on skin contact. You slowly hike up the shirt past your stomach to expose your breast. His eyes widen and guiltily dart away.
You pull the shirt back down abruptly and sit up with hot embers of embarrassment heating your cheeks. Maybe he's having second thoughts now that he's seeing you up close again. Before your mind can spiral too far he places his hand over yours.
"Sorry. It's not that. I just— Promise me you won't ask me to forget? I want to remember how you look, how you feel, how you taste.”
Relief cools the fire in your face and you half-heartedly chuckle as you climb over his lap. Cupping the side of his face, he Instinctively he leans into your touch.
"Joonie, I don’t think I could ever do that now. There's not a single restore point we could go back to, and I don't want there to be. I never want to pretend like I don't love you with my whole heart ever again. Because the moment you kissed me it's like this weight lifted from my shoulders. Everything I'd been locking away in my heart finally broke free. And it felt… incredible. It felt right. There's not a doubt in my mind. You're my person. You're my light. You're my pride."
"My one and only love," he adds with a kiss to your palm.
You smile and nod, pushing down the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes with a joke. "Are you gonna change your mind now?"
"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiles at you softly, watching you struggle to regain your composure as you sit back on his abdomen.
"Good. 'Cause it's like a totally binding thing now."
"Oh, okay," he laughs and lifts himself with his elbows to get a better look at you. "You gonna type up those terms and conditions for me? I'll sign, Geeksquad. Get me those papers."
"Yeah, yeah. Let me write a draft right now.” You press him back against the bed and lean over his chest, splaying your fingers out for a moment before pretending they're tapping away at a keyboard.
"Under this agreement, I, Y/N, agree to the following conditions..."
"God, you're a dork."
"We have fun. We have lots of…" you stop to giggle and wiggle your eyebrows, "you know, sex when we both want it."
He rolls his eyes but he's smiling so big his cheeks hurt. "You're so corny and I'm here for it."
"And…" you pause and meet his eyes as you fake-type the next condition. "We don't ever feel bad about loving each other. I'm in love with you and I don't want to waste another minute of my life acting like I feel any other way."
He looks down at his chest. Your fingers have stopped moving. "Is all that going in the, uh, love contract? It's a binding thing, you know."
"Yes, yes," you agree, pretending to catch up on typing. "If something doesn't work, we will talk about it. Deal?"
He doesn’t even stop to think about it before he answers, looking down at your fingers like they'll show him an invisible dotted line. "Okay where do I sign?”
"See I'm typing on your heart because that's how this works. So..."
You bite your lip and lift your shirt over your head, watching his eyes struggle to stay focused on your face. You really don't deserve him.
"You type and sign right here." Your fingers lure his gaze down to the valley between your breasts and then slightly to the left. "Right on my heart.”
He ghosts his fingers over the area you’ve pointed to and licks his lips, trying to hide his smirk. “Actually your heart is a little bit lower and a little bit…” He massages his fingers against your breast. “Here.”
“Hmm. Educational and strategic. What a combo.”
"Do I gotta type the whole thing up before I sign?"
You roll your eyes. "Depends. You gonna type as shitty as you usually do?"
He tongues his cheek as he starts tapping away at your breast with his two pointer fingers. It’s too true to reality. “Under this agreement I, Kim Namjoon--”
“Nevermind this is taking too long,” you complain, wiggling over his lap. He quickly drums his fingers over your chest. “--Agree to everything you just said. Signed... Namjoon...” His fingertips trace his name along your breast. “It’s a deal.”
“Okay, okay.” You laugh and reciprocate. “If you break it I'll probably cry and Jennie will beat you up."
“Like I would ever…” he mumbles.
With a rut of his hips he cups your breasts in his hands and resumes gently working his fingers over your nipples. Following the slow rhythm he sets, you grind yourself down and thumb at the band to his basketball shorts, pulling them down just enough to reveal that sliver of dark hair leading below. A loud groan escapes with his breath. His heart aches to feel you against him again, without barriers.
He sits up and heaves his shirt over his head with reckless abandon. His arms are immediately wrapping around your waist, fingernails digging into the skin of your back with the hope feeling your body can assuage the ache in his chest. The heat of his mouth envelops your nipple before you can comment on his earnest behavior and you whimper instead. His rough embrace draws you closer, and his sinful tongue batters your nipple as you loop an arm around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair.
The suction of his mouth makes you throw your head back. “Fuck, Joon.”
He moans and skims his lips across your chest to show your other breast love. Despite his adoration for the current position of his face, it’s not enough. Greed overtakes him. He holds you tight and musters the strength to flip you onto your back. The tiny squeal you make in response makes his dick twitch. You make such wonderful sounds.
As you draw him into a kiss, the barrier of silky basketball shorts do nothing to conceal his hardness. It makes you crazy. You want to feel his dick glide against your folds again. When you raise your hips to grind your clit against him he meets your motion with equal enthusiasm.
“Take them off,” you mumble. “Put it in me, Namjoon. Please.”
It’s hard to say no when every fantastical thought about you he’s ever had is now coming to fruition. How long has he yearned to hear those words? He thinks of earlier. He thinks of the disappointment he holds for his own performance, how he squandered his opportunity to make you feel the way you deserve.
“But I wanna go down on you,” he insists, slowly making his way down your torso. He plants deep kisses as he goes, working a trail of tiny dark marks into the surface of your skin.
“Joon…”  Your fingers claw at his back as he descends.
“Show me how you like it. I’m a good student. I promise.”
The ever present flames in your chest burn hotter, searing a path to your cheeks. He kisses along your hip and pauses to inspect the bruise from your earlier slip. He carefully creeps past it, and instead focuses on the skin of your inner thigh. Taking your hand in his, he positions it over your cunt. He rests his cheek against your thigh to watch the way your fingers settle in place.
“Are you gonna be looking at me like that the entire time?” You laugh, covering as much of your sex as you can with your hand.
“I’m a quick learner,” he assures you. “Plus…” He leans in and laps at the glistening slick in the space between your fingers. “I could taste you all day.”
“It’s after noon,” you mumble, drawing your fingers away to allow him greater access to your folds.
“Mmm,” he hums against you, letting his tongue explore every crevice of your labia. “You want me to keep going?”
Your head falls back against the pillow and you lift your hips with a whimper. “Yes.”
“How?”
Pulling his mouth back just enough to allow your finger to creep back into place, he offers a blissful sigh as you work light circles against your clit. He places a finger over yours and follows the movement, listening to your quiet breathing. He cocks his head to the side and repositions, sliding his finger beneath yours to take control.
“Like this, baby?”
It’s been so long. You’d forgotten just how good it feels to have someone else touch you, to not have to put the work in yourself to attain the reward. It feels so good. Maybe you will be able to let go.
“A little more pressure.”
You guide him again by pressing down over his finger and moving him towards the peak of your clit. He immediately gives in to the change of pace. After a little while he finds his own rhythm and you move your fingers to the back of his head where you tangle them in his hair.
“Yes, like that.”
Confident in his ability to hit that spot again, he glides his fingers down to tease your entrance and brings his lips to your clit. Your entire core tingles as he presses down and creates suction around the tiny bud. As your hips lift in ecstasy he wraps an arm around your thigh and slips two fingers into your slick cunt. Much to his delight you moan in tandem with your desperate exhale.
A proud grin spreads his lips apart and he does his best to hide it by battering his tongue over your clit instead. How many fantasies has he indulged in? How is it that they all pale in comparison to your true taste and sounds? Determined to keep himself on task, he focuses on the spot you seemed to favor and presses his lips back down while rolling his tongue along you. His fingers curl up and search for the promised sweet spot within your cunt.
You tense and clench around his fingers, body desperate to draw him deeper, to take more of him inside of you in any way that you can. Then you feel it: the unmistakable pleasurable pressure steadily rising within. You don’t want to let it slip away this time. With the pads of his fingers pressing as close to your g-spot as he can, the area of your clit you need him to hit with his tongue seems to shift.
Palms shaking, you pull on Namjoon’s hair to guide him to your newest point of pleasure. “Right there. Right there.”
He moans and expels shaky breaths through his nose. Immediately feeling guilty for being rough, you soften your grip and lovingly smooth back his hair. Disheveled, sweat-slicked strands fall against his forehead, rebelling against your touch.
“Sorry,” you mumble, cradling the sides of his face, trying to draw him up from his position. “Did I hurt you?”
He doesn’t budge. Dark brown eyes flicker upwards. The electric tingle in your heart steals your breath as you’re caught in his lurid gaze. He digs his fingernails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and the energy contained in your chest bursts. Shockwaves of internal chills scatter throughout your body.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he whispers. “Pull me however you want, baby.”
His voice is so low and soft that it barely registers to your ears. Your brain doesn’t have time to process the words before he drags his nose over your clit and sucks on your labia. You gasp out his name as he moves back to tongue your clit. He keeps his eyes on you as he plunges his fingers into you with a renewed sense of urgency, desperate to make you say it again. It doesn’t take long for a stuttered verse of his name to sputter from your pretty lips.
Another shockwave of excitement pulses through your gut. He makes it so easy to lose yourself in the pleasure he offers. Any shame and anxiety falls to the wayside, making way for your impending orgasm. You gasp out a pitiful sound and grind your pelvis towards his soft, plush lips to create even more pressure where you need it most. There’s no doubt he feels the way you clench around his fingers and because he reaches as far as he can in search of your g-spot and looks to your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead he finds you looking back through half lidded eyes that threaten to close any moment. With your eyebrows knitted together and quivering lips parted, he knows you’re on the brink of coming undone.
You reach for the back of his head as you lift your hips and cry out. You might not make those exaggerated pornstar moans, but yours are infinitely better. It’s better than anything he could have imagined. His name spills from your lips again, tired and quiet as you come down. There’s no need for you to tell him to stop or push him away this time. His softened lips are already crashing down against your mouth.
As you glide your tongue along his, the tang of your own juices fills your mouth. It doesn’t bother you. If anything it spurs you on to wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer. You tug on his shorts again. This time he raises no argument. He inhales a shaky breath as he goes in for another kiss and works the clothing down his legs until he’s steadying himself over you and clumsily struggling to kick them off.
You take his face in your hands while he gracelessly fights the fabric caught around his ankle and he smiles at you. Another jolt of electric butterflies pulse in your gut, frazzling your senses as they travel outward from their point of origin. By the time the sensation reaches your brain, it carries along the weight of your feelings. You reflect on how he cares for you, how he’s always cared for you. Navigating the key pleasure points mapped to your body is just one more way he can show it. You’re so incredibly lucky to have someone in your life so attentive and considerate of your needs. It makes you wonder how you meandered through life without a guiding light like Namjoon to lean on for support. Meditating on that thought threatens you with torrid tears.
“I love you,” you whisper.
Before he can respond with you draw him into a deep kiss, crossing your legs behind his waist to pull him closer. His shaft presses against your sensitive clit as he grinds himself down. While your body reacts with a twitch, you still roll your hips up to meet him. His bottom lip quivers and you suck it between your teeth, slowly drawing it away from him. When it snaps back to him he chases your mouth and presses you down into the pillows.
He follows the enticing motion of your hips with a loud groan. The slippery nature of your folds promises to make his entrance effortless. Each pass his cock makes over your cunt is another strike against his willpower, but god if it doesn’t feel amazing. It would be so easy to slip in, just a little bit, just enough to satisfy the aching need of the tip that inches closer and closer to your cunt. The way you lift it for him only serves as a greater invitation.
He rolls himself through your slick folds, floating on the high of the pleasure, encouraged by the moans you breathe into his mouth. He ruts into you, coasting into your entrance just enough to make him break the kiss with a whispered expletive. You whimper as he retreats and try to beckon him back with another gentle roll of your hips. He sighs, allowing himself to rock back into you enough to coat the tip of his dick with your warmth. Your cunt pulses against him, seeking to lure him further inside.
Again he surrenders to your salacious advance, sheathing the head of his cock in its entirety within your heat. You gasp and moan at the welcome intrusion, pulling on his hair as though it will move him closer than he already is.
“Please,” you whisper. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Desperate to feel the stretch of his cock diving deep inside, you make your best attempt to raise your hips higher to take more of him in. He moans into your mouth, gently rocking himself further into your cunt and then slowly pulling back out.
Playing this game is dangerous. He knows that. But with each gasp and moan he pulls from you, the stakes rise. He tells himself he’s allowed to drive another moan from you with his teasing. Just one more time. One more sound. He tests his own resolve with each shallow thrust, never sinking deeper than before.
“Joonie,” you whine as he pulls back again. “Please. Stop teasing. I want your cock in me.”
His stomach does a somersault and it snaps him back to reality before his hips can snap forward instead. He leaves the comfort of your sweet cunt to lean over you and fish for the packet in the drawer of his nightstand. It should be right on top, but it’s not. Where the fuck is it?
The sticky wet head of his cock slips against your belly while he frantically rummages through the drawer. You shudder and reach down to take him in your palm, earning you a breathy curse in response. He spares a glance towards your mischievous eyes before looking down at the way you gather the moisture from the peak of his cock and pump it down to the base. His eyes roll back in delight for a moment and he drops onto the weight of his arm. The drawer rolls out farther than it should and promptly clatters off its track and onto the carpet below.
“I can fix that,” he announces.
“Are you okay?” You laugh, trying to sit up to help.
“Fine,” he murmurs, leading you back to the pillows with a kiss. “You just got me a little...”
His eyes wander to the nightstand. Perched on its surface are the remaining foil packets he’d been searching for in the drawer with its contents now spilled on the floor.
“Oh my god.” He sighs.
“Yes?” you press with a smile. “You good?”
��Mhm.”
He quickly snatches one up, fumbling it in his hands for a second before he recklessly rips it open. He leans back on his knees to roll the condom on, but about halfway down his shaft the rubber splits and snaps against his fingers. He vents a frustrated sound from his throat and scolds himself internally for being too excited, too eager. He wasted another one in his haste.
“I’m sorry,” he says in defeat. “Hold on.”
You’re already carefully opening the last packet while he rises to discard the bits of ruined rubber. “It’s okay. Come here. I got you.”
As he approaches the bed you reach out and begin to slowly roll the new condom down his shaft. He watches your hands roam over his cock with wonder. You seem much more confident now that he’s made a complete fool of himself for the millionth time today. Maybe you won’t think of him as so much of a saint now. He’s just as much of a mess as you are.
“You don’t have to worry so much,” you say with a slow pump of your hand over his cock. “I always have that five dollars, you know?”
It’s difficult to take your eyes off of the perfect shape of his dark cock. It’s veiny and thick in your palm, and long enough to make you wonder how it might feel hitting the back of your throat.  You manage to shift your gaze to his face and beam at him.
His worried expression melts into a dimpled smile. “Geeksquad saves the day again, huh.”
“Yeah. Pretty great, right? So, come here.” Despite feigned confidence, your jaw trembles with anxiety as you settle against the pillows once more. Nerves set your body alight with excited anticipation. “And put your cock in me.”
He slots himself between your thighs and cups your cheek, catching the subtle shiver of your body.
“Cold, baby?”
“Excited,” you admit, grazing your fingers over the expanse of his back until they’re nestled in the hair behind his neck. You kiss him.
It doesn’t matter how much time he’s had to recuperate. As soon as your lips are on his and he’s teasing himself into you, he knows he’s in trouble. You’re so tight. How is he supposed to last? Inch by slow inch you take him in, then out again. Your fingers twirl around strands of his hair until you’re sure it can’t be twisted any further.
“Oh fuck.”
Your jaw drops and you gasp a stuttered slew of nonsense as he bottoms out. He remains there, unmoving as your body adjusts to the stretch of his cock. Every executable file in your brain stops working as you lie beneath him with your mouth agape, eyes wide, and fingers tangled in his hair.
“Need a minute?” he asks, peppering kisses along your bottom lip and lightly working it between his teeth.
Finally you find the command in your brain to resume all processes. You moan into his kiss and purposefully clench around him.  “Do you?”
“Evil,” he murmurs as he begins setting a slow, steady pace with his hips. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”
You throw your head back in ecstasy, exposing your neck for his mouth to latch onto. Your hands explore the muscles of his back, digging into the sculpted flesh with your nails. He grunts against you, sucking a mark into the crook of your neck to muffle the sound. Taking time to follow the creases dividing the defined muscles of his triceps, your palms drift further down to curl around the pillars of his forearms. Without disrupting his pace, he reaches up to lace his fingers with yours.
The back of your palms press into the soft pillows beside your head. You’re connected as deeply and as literally as two people can be and still you crave more. When you moan his name into the open air he trails a line of sloppy open-mouthed kisses to meet your lips. You meet each slow thrust with a roll of your hips and a desperate need to keep him inside of you forever. Frenzied panting fills the space between you as you break the kiss.
Dark eyes full of adoration peer down at you, focused on the way the force of his accelerated thrusts shake every part of your body but leaves your gaze untouched. It’s insane just how much he cares for you. By now you must be sick of hearing his declarations of love, but he wants to say it all the same. He wishes he could make you cum for him like this. He would do anything to make you cum a second time before he does. Maybe with more practice he’ll learn your body well enough to make it happen. For now he’ll settle for making you feel good. You’re enjoying yourself at the very least.
A smile spreads across your face and a sweet laugh slips out. “What?”
“What?” he echoes, lost in the sight of you beneath him like this.
It’s like his head goes empty when you laugh like that, when you look at him like you’re shy and infatuated at the same time.
“Looks like you wanna say something.”
The serious expression plastered on his features matches the intensity of his whisper, “Yeah. Maybe I do. You wanna know what it is?”
Every muscle in your cunt contracts around him. He purses his lips, takes a slow breath through his nose and relaxes his pace.
He leans next to your ear and whispers in a quiet tone, “You’re just so fucking sexy.”
You’re so flattered that all the embarrassment resting on the tip of your tongue dissipates the moment you open your mouth. Flustered words form and then decompose the moment they’re to be spoken into existence. All that comes out is a broken sound of uncertainty.
It’s like the lights dance in his eyes as he takes a moment to straighten up and regard your features. His lips press against your forehead, then your nose and he pauses over your lips.
“I love you.”
The words fall from your mouth easier than ever. “I love you too.”
He kisses you like it’s the first time: passionate, desperate, and needy. You break off to rest your forehead against his.
“So are you gonna cum inside me or what?” You can barely conceal the smile that breaks through your pursed lips.
“Wow. So am I just a piece of meat to you, Geeksquad?” he jokes.
“I mean… Protein right?” You make a ‘yikes’ face at him and start to laugh.
He shakes his head but he’s grinning like a fool. “Well if it’s what you want…”
Just like that he calls your half-bluff. He ducks his face into the crook of your neck and begins to suck another mark over the fading mark from his earlier endeavors. Your laughter quickly turns into a string of moans as he resumes the previous tempo of his thrusts. A surge of adrenalin flips your stomach on itself and excitement pulses through your body at the thought of his cum slowly dripping out of your cunt.
“I do.”
You squeeze his hands and shimmy him away from your neck so you can sink your teeth into his shoulder to hide the shame of your desire. A broken moan rattles its way up his throat as he entertains the fantasy you’ve conjured in his mind.
“You want me to fill you, hmm?” he whispers in a breathy tone between shallow breaths.
There’s no doubt in your mind that he feels the way your cunt tenses at his words to offer a wordless answer, but you also offer a muffled hum of affirmation.
“You want me to fuck my cum into you just like this, baby?” His words are followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass at a new feverish pace.
“Yes,” you whimper and bring your lips to his, high off the sensation of his dick plowing into you.
“Gonna take it all for me?”
“Mhm. Cum for me,” you plead between sloppy kisses. “Cum inside me.”
“Oh shit, baby,” he gasps.
You don’t get another opportunity to coax him into letting go because he’s already slamming his hips into you and crushing his mouth over yours. He’s buried deep inside of you when his hips still but you wiggle beneath him and purposefully clench to give him the tiniest overdose of pleasure. He sighs as he leans back, finally releasing his death grip on your sweaty palms.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“You’re sweet,” you murmur, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Good lay too.”
He rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Likewise.”
When he pulls out to rise and dispose of the condom you already miss his shape, but the unmistakable ache starts to set in: the ache of a pussy pounded too well after a long hiatus. You clamp your legs together and roll onto your side to expose the skin of your sweaty back to the cold air of the room, closing your eyes as you listen to the patter of raindrops against the window.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Mmm.” You don’t bother opening your eyes. “I seriously need another shower. Sorry about your bed.”
He kneels on the floor next to the edge of the bed and carefully moves the hair from your face. “You can soak my sheets any time.”
“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind. Sounds gross though. Definitely don’t wanna lay in the puddle behind me.”
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna sleep right there?”
“No.”
You’re such a liar.
He lets a few seconds of silence pass before he speaks again. “How about shower and movie?”
You peek at him from beneath one eyelid. “What movie?”
“Thinking The Kick, unless you have something else in mind.”
“No, that’s— Wait, what time do we have to be at Tae’s?”
Namjoon’s eyes widen and he rubs the back of his neck. “Later… Uh, about that. Are we— I mean on one hand I don’t wanna make a big deal about it but…”
You bolt upright. “Oh no. They’re gonna make such a thing out of it. Nevermind. I’m never seeing them again.”
“It won’t be that bad.”
“Won’t it? Oh my god, if I show up in your clothes…”
“Geeksquad.” He grabs your face.
“Joonie.”  
You reciprocate the action and squish his cheeks towards the center of his face, causing his lips to pucker. He quickly takes your hands into his own.
“Hey. Look at me,” he pauses to make sure you meet his eyes before he continues. “You’re fine. Stay. We’ll figure it out when we get there and we’ll do it together.”
“Okay,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
“Be my ride?” He flashes you his wide dimpled smile.
“Only if you’re mine later.” You wink and draw him into a chaste kiss.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
"Geeksquad."
His voice sounds distant and soft while reminding you you’re home. In this moment, you’re safe, you’re warm, and you’re loved. It’s too comforting to move away right now, too comforting to bring your eyes to open, so you cling to the heat of his body.
“Hey,” he tries again, gently nudging your shoulder. “Geeksquad, wake up.”
You make sure that your distaste is apparent with a loud grumble. You nuzzle against his chest with your cheek and hum like it will drown him out. He laughs softly as the sound fades away. He briefly lets silence fill the space, which allots you the precious seconds needed to hit the imaginary snooze button and doze off again. It seems he isn't having it when he lets out a loud sigh.
“You missed the end and it’s already five,” he tries to reason. “Weren’t you the one who told me not to let you sleep too long? Unless…” He carefully snakes his fingertips down to your side, hoping to remain undetected. “...You changed your mind about going home to get all cute because you finally realize you are cute, you know, without trying."
You groan against his chest and that seems to be enough to keep him quiet. Just as he feels your head begin to drop down he starts talking loudly.
"Oh, I see. You just really wanna be out flaunting how good you look wearing my clothes. That’s it, right?"
You lightly smack your hand against his chest but don’t allow yourself to let your guard down until you’re certain he's given up.
"That must be it," he continues. "Not you... Being a pain in the ass to wake up. At all.”
With your head pressed against his chest, you find it difficult to drift back off with every loud word dropping from his mouth and vibrating straight into your eardrum. Still you rock your forehead against him and try to ignore his booming voice. When his fingers dig into your side to tickle you, your body jolts up straight and you can’t help but laugh.
“Wow. She speaks,” he jokes. “...Kinda.”
You wiggle against his grip, thrusting your chest up while dipping your head back. You attempt to scold him with his name between a fit of giggles. “Stop,” you wheeze.
“But I love the way you laugh.” His fingers relax despite his words. He leans in to press his lips to your perfectly exposed neck.
Your breathless laughter quickly transforms into a subtle slew of whimpers. He swathes his tongue across a particularly sensitive spot and your breath hitches. You grab his arm and pull down like you want him to crush you like a bug. He doesn’t. Instead he smirks against your neck when he feels your nails dig into his bicep.
“Joonie…” you whine.
He offers his inquiry in the form of a hum that radiates vibrations from the point of contact with your skin.
You’re embarrassed to admit the million things you want to ask him to do right now in place of complaining about his teasing. “Come closer.”
“Closer how?” he murmurs before kissing that spot again.
You take the hand at your side and slip it beneath the worn fabric of your shirt. You don’t have to lead him very far until he’s molding the flesh of your breast with his hand and you’re panting shallow breaths into the air around you. The sweet kiss at your neck turns into a sinful demonstration. The things he could do to you, for you. Do you truly know?
You know you never want him to leave. The heat from his mouth seems to sear a path of lava straight to your core. Your fingers glide through his hair and settle at his jaw. It takes all of your self control to gently push him away from that delightful spot he’s found so that you can plant a soft kiss against his jaw.
You draw out a groan as you pull away. “Maybe we should just cancel.”
“Mmm, don’t tempt me. You know I will,” he murmurs, chasing after your lips.
You lean back just a bit further, a grin plastered on your face as you allow him to press his mouth against yours just one more time.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
The rain has been reduced to a light patter against your windshield now. You’re grateful that visibility is decent as you pull up to the familiar curb in front of Namjoon’s building. Already waiting just within the building’s entrance, he sprints out at the sight of your headlights. He eagerly hops into the passenger seat and you do your best not to look over at him. Suddenly, you’re nervous. Have your palms ever secreted this much sweat in your life? Still you keep your hands planted on the steering wheel, staring ahead like you’re playing the role of a first-time chauffeur.
Sensing a lingering apprehension, he clears his throat as his seatbelt clicks into place. “Everything okay?”
Keeping the car in park, you allow yourself to look over at him. He smells good. He looks incredible, even in a simple black tee and jeans. And he’s looking at you like all he wants to do is kiss your lips for the millionth time today. It’s like you can feel the anxiety melt from your face.
“I’m nervous,” you admit, shaking out your hands as though that will clear the sweat from them.  “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
Your sheepish laugh causes him to reach out for your sweaty palm. To your surprise his hand is just as hot and moist as yours. Regardless of how uncomfortable it is, he holds on tight and laces his fingers between yours.
“It’s okay. Me too.”
The pair of you stare at each other for a few seconds in silence, just smiling and trying to think of what you were going to say before promptly getting lost in one another’s eyes. How is it you’ve never noticed the softness in his features when he looks at you like this? It still feels kind of surreal. But your heart skips a beat and you allow yourself to acknowledge the way heat radiates from your cheeks. You want to kiss him, to reassure him you’re not going to waffle on him again, but you’re too entranced by the infatuation smeared across every aspect of his face.
When you finally speak, he starts at the same time and you both have to pause and laugh. Silence falls between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s charged. It’s shy. It’s excited. He bites his lip and drags it through his teeth as his eyes rake over any part of you they can.
“You look beautiful.”
You lick your lips and your smile grows larger in response. “I- Thank you. I’m. We-- I mean, you look…” A nervous laugh slips into the breath between your words. “Hi.”
He leans across the armrest and plants a soft kiss against your lips. The moment you reciprocate his tongue dips into your mouth and glides against yours. It takes all of your willpower to keep the car running instead of plucking the keys out and dragging him back into his apartment to fuck him stupid. Still you rely on him to break the kiss.
“Hi,” he whispers, dragging a thumb across your cheek as he cups your jaw. “Still nervous?”
You nod. “My stomach hurts.”
“Hey, they’re our friends. It’ll be okay.”
“I know. You’re right.” You sit back against your seat and stare blankly out the foggy windshield. “I haven’t answered Jennie all day. She’s asking and I… I don’t want to answer.”
His heart sinks. It sounds like you want to keep things a secret, even though he knows you’re a terrible liar. No wonder you’re so nervous. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but if you asked he would attempt to cover for the both of you. He sincerely hopes you don’t ask.
“It’s just… I don’t want it to be a text. I mean, do we go in holding hands?” you ask, instantly allaying his fears. “Do we just announce it?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “Geeksquad, come on. Pretend like nothing’s changed. Things are basically the same right?”
You nod, but your expression casts uncertainty over the action. “Right, right. We can just say it like that, right? I mean, we still work at the same place. We still like to hang out together. Watch movies,It’s just a little more… intimate. You know, the kind of time you spend with someone that you care about and like… make out and have bomb sex and—”
“I’ll tell them we’re together,” he interrupts. “You’re my girlfriend. You signed the love contract.”
“Okay but you’re not going to tell them about the contract right?”
“Mmm. Maybe. Didn’t see anything about it in the terms and conditions.” He laughs.
“Uh, the fine print says you’re sworn to secrecy of its existence. You know, like fight club.”
“Must have missed that. Didn’t have my glasses on, you know?”
“Oh, here.” The lightbulb in your head flickers on. You rummage through the compartment beneath the armrest, presenting Namjoon with the glasses you’d been meaning to return for some time now. “Maybe these will help. You left them at my place.”
“Shit. I thought I lost those.” He sighs, taking them from you. “Wish I hadn’t ordered another pair.”
“Sorry, I kept forgetting to give them to you,” you admit.
He smiles. “Did you forget, or were you pining over me? Be real with me, Geeksquad.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m gonna start driving before I push you out of this car.”
“Sniffing them because they remind you of me?” he teases.
“Yeah. They smell like avocados.” You laugh as you turn your attention to the road. “You’re lucky hipster glasses are in.”
“Alright, baby.”
He hums in amusement, sparing a glance out the window beside him. It seems like the barrage of rainy days may be coming to an end soon. At least he hopes so. There’s not much he wouldn’t give to take you to his favorite hiking spots, have a picnic with you under clear blue skies, or lay on a sandy beach with you by his side.
“You keep calling me baby,” you point out quietly, pulling him from his reverie.
“Wha— I’m sorry. It was heat of the moment and it felt really natural when we were fucking you know? But if it’s weird now, I-I can stop. I’ll stick with tried and true Geeksquad.” He stumbles through his embarrassment in true Namjoon fashion.
“No, I like it. I just wanted to tell you it... makes me feel good. Way better than Geeksquad.”
“Yeah, you are.”
You smirk and reach for his hand and he gives you a tight squeeze, driving the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Holding his hand is enough to keep you distracted from all the noise in your head.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
Knock-knockknock—-knock-knock.
The answer to your knock is the resounding pound of Hobi’s fist through the barrier of the door.
KNOCK-KNOCK.
The door swings open and Hoseok’s smiling face greets you. Namjoon’s hand falls from around your shoulder on instinct. Although Hoseok’s eyes briefly drop to Namjoon’s twitching fingers he draws no further attention to the reaction, stepping aside and gesturing for the pair of you to enter. Seokjin’s incoherent shouting carries from the other room, nearly drowning out your greetings.
“It’s about time.” Hoseok tips a bottle to his lips and the majority of the liquid sloshes back down as he makes a face and runs to shove it against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Yuck.”
Yoongi takes a hearty swig without so much as a glance away from the kitchen. The unmistakable bounce of a ping pong ball springs from the unseen room and you lean back to attempt to see around the blockade Yoongi and Hoseok’s bodies have created between you and whatever is happening in there.
“They started playing while we were waiting for you. Should be done soon,” Hobi says, walking back towards you. “Jimin and Tae put up a good fight but Jungkookie is too good.”
“You didn’t have to wait. We could have met you there,” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck and stealing a sideways glance at you.
Hoseok raises an eyebrow and smirks, his eyes following Namjoon’s to you. His bony finger pokes your spine and you instantly tense and straighten your posture.
“I think we all wanted to wait.”
He knows. Even as you spin towards him you feel it. Despite the words left unspoken, somehow he already knows.
Yup. It’s time. Just get it over with. Easier thought than done.
“Why?” you blurt.
“Well...” Hoseok begins, ghosting his fingers over your shoulder as he walks towards the couch to put his shoes on. “We wanted to see you guys. Had a feeling we might not see too much of you as the night goes on. Figured you might want some,” he pauses to finish knotting his shoelace, grinning at you as he stands, “hmm, alone time?”
“I— Pssfht. What?” The unexpected shrillness of your voice cuts through the space between you. You clear your throat and do your best to dampen your anxiety. “I mean, like, why would we—? We’re—We, uh, whew… Is it hot in here?”
Words are no good right now. Anything else you say will just be another unnecessary embarrassment to endure. Your heartbeat resides in your ears as your flight response kicks in. Namjoon must hear it too because drapes his arm around your shoulder and pulls you towards the comforting mass of his chest.
Your fingers fidget with your keys even though you know you won’t need them tonight. You consider tossing them in the bowl Tae keeps on the counter, but that would require walking past the rest of your friends and abandoning Namjoon. You agreed you would face them together.
Namjoon smiles softly and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “We’re good, man.”
“Are you?” The look on Hoseok’s face tells you he’s hoping you’ll expand on Namjoon’s short answer. “How are you doing, Y/N? Has that douche tried to contact you?”
You almost forgot about Jihoon. It seems like such a distant memory now. The sting of his words echo in the darkest corner of your mind, but not for long. A smile forces those thoughts to scatter as you look to Namjoon for support. You take a breath and exhale a relieved sigh.
“Nope. He’s gone for good, I think.” You reach for Namjoon’s hand, using the courage his touch instills to fuel your confession. “If he comes back around I’m sure my boyfriend will try to kick his ass.”
“Wait. It’s finally happening?” Hoseok’s eyes go wide and he springs from the couch in an instant to poke his fingers against your sides. He didn’t expect to be totally correct in his assumptions, but he hoped for it. “For really real?”
You said it first. Out loud. Namjoon’s stomach churns in excitement as he looks at you. You’re grinning like a dork and nodding even though he knows you’re embarrassed as hell. Yeah. He’s pretty sure he’s never been more in love with your goofy ass smile. Hoseok covers your entwined fingers with both of his hands and practically drags you both towards the kitchen.
“Guys, guys! It’s official!”
The ball leaves Jungkook’s fingertips, launches across the table and circles the rim of the final cup as his opponents turn away. The room goes quiet, save for the airy spin of the ball slowly decelerating into the contents of the cup. Namjoon adjusts his glasses and you swallow hard under the burning spotlight of your friends’ eyes.
“Drumroll, please!” Hoseok demands with a smile, rolling his tongue to begin the buildup. “Bdrdrdrrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr--”
Yoongi presses his lips together to hold back a smile and begins drumming his fingers on the wall beside him. Not willing to be outdone, Seokjin and Jungkook join in, pounding their fists on the table, followed by the light tap of Jimin’s hands against his thighs, and the smack of Taehyung’s palms against his face.
“I present to you the moment we’ve all been waiting for…” Hoseok ducks behind the pair of you and lifts your arms like you’ve just tied for victory in a boxing match. “Joonsquad!”
The inflection at the end of his tone makes you cringe almost as hard as the nickname.
“Nope. No. We’re not calling it that.”
“Joonsquad? Really?”
The combined cheers from your friends drown out your objections.
Jimin’s arms are the first to wrap you both into a tight bear hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”
The statement seems genuine, but you’re flooded with the embarrassing memory of drunkenly slobbering over his face. Namjoon had always reminded you that Jimin was used to keeping things casual but still you find yourself ashamed for going there. Harmless flirting and games of chicken ruled your friendship with Jimin for so long. You used to fantasize about his lips exploring your body, but it seems so preposterous now. You’re not sure when it happened, but things changed.
Despite your mind’s acknowledgement of his beauty there is no worry accompanying it, no butterflies wreaking havoc on your senses. Your simple crush has faded into surface appreciation. It seems easy to recognize that now that you’ve stopped trying to push down the feelings you have for your best friend. Any lingering affections you bear resemble nothing more than a strengthened friendship, much like the one you’ve shared with Jennie for years.
Even with all the back slaps and fistbumps, Namjoon’s eyes are trained on you in a smitten stupor. Embarrassment does nothing to steal the light in your eyes or the joy in your laugh. All of the congratulations in the world can’t reach his ears when you’re looking at him like that.
“I knew it!” Jennie comes running from around the corner, pushing past all the men in her path to throw her arms around you. “No wonder you’ve been dodging my texts. I wanna know everything.” She attempts a whisper, but softness doesn’t translate through the liquor already clouding her voice. “In detail.”
Namjoon clears his throat loudly to combat the redness spreading along his ears. “Where are we headed? Seesaw?”
Everyone looks at one another like they hadn’t really thought about it.
“Sure. Your first drink is on me.” Yoongi throws an arm around Namjoon.
Hoseok weaves his arm beneath Yoongi’s from Namjoon’s other side, beginning to walk them towards the door. “It’s a dancing night, don’t you think?”
“How about we hit up the strip club after?” Jungkook suggests, already tugging his sneakers on and stumbling towards the door.
Seokjin rolls his eyes and claps a hand around the youngest’s neck. “Do you really want to break up a couple so soon?”
“What? They can look together, right? Wings doesn’t discriminate. It’s like a bonding thing. You don’t mind, do you, Y/N?”
“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’re not going there.” Seokjin turns back to Jungkook to whisper, “Not every celebration needs to be at a strip club.”
“I’ll remember that on your birthday,” Jungkook mutters, already on his way out the door.
The others begin to follow suit but before you can get too far, Taehyung latches onto your elbow. “Keys.”
“Right.” You produce a tangled mess of keychains and keys. Namjoon hangs back to wait with you, leaning against the doorframe as Tae disappears.
“You’re always welcome to stay here,” Tae offers as your keys clang against the others in the bowl.
Namjoon chews on his lip and looks to you. As long as you’ll lay next to him he doesn’t care where he sleeps tonight.
“Depends how drunk we get,” you reply with a smile, lacing your fingers with Namjoon’s to lead him out of the apartment. “Thanks, Tae.”
He grins and pats Namjoon’s shoulder after locking the door. “Don’t worry, Jungkook washed all the sheets yesterday.”
You flip up the hood of your sweater and tighten the strings to cover your face. You’re definitely not coming back here tonight.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
You’ve done your best to balance your attention between your friends throughout the night, sharing food, drinking and laughing together. But as the night continues you feel your energy draining with each attempt to remain social and engaged in conversation. You’re grateful when Namjoon steers the conversation away from you, leading most of the table towards the bar to collect more drinks for everyone. Only Hoseok and Yoongi are left to hold down the table with you. You’re pretty sure Namjoon is counting on the majority of the group getting distracted and splitting off. At least you’re hoping that’s what he’s playing at because you’d really like to get away from all the questions and stories.
When you yawn Yoongi nudges your elbow out from under you, forcing you to catch yourself before your chin slams against the table.
“Tired?” he asks with a smirk, eyes focused elsewhere.
“Mmm,” you agree with a nod. “I guess I should get up before they come back or I’ll be stuck here forever, huh?”
“You know, you’re not being rude if you want to head out. You don’t have to stay and prove anything. We’ve all been rooting for you to get together. If you wanna slip away for some privacy, you should.”
It’s funny how well your friends know you. You can’t even remember what life was like before they came along.
“A break from questions would be nice,” you admit with a stretch of your arms.
Hoseok, who’s been nursing the same drink all night, brings the glass to his lips and gulps down a rather large sip and scrunches his features together. “Blegh. Ooooor you can come dance with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure.
You stare him down, tonguing the straw to your tequila sunrise and trying to steal the last sip of the drink from the ice that remains in your glass. Is he trying to fuck with you?
“Don’t worry, I’ll be good.” He laughs, offering you his hand. “Namjoonie’s not much of a dancer, but I think he’d be willing to learn from you more than me. Think I can teach you something to show him before he gets back?”
“Hobi, I know how to dance,” you say with a laugh, although you’re already taking his hand.
“Mmm, do you though?” Hoseok flitters his free hand back and forth. “Ehhhh.”
With a roll of your eyes, you spare Yoongi a glance. “You coming?”
Yoongi leans back in his seat with a shake of his head. He casually pops a fry into his mouth.“Go on. I’ll send Namjoon your way so Hobi will keep his hands above your waist.”
“That’s just rude,” Hoseok scoffs, pulling you towards the dance floor.
He’s true to his word, dancing as respectably as someone with hips like Hoseok can. He guides your hips with his hands as he sways behind you.
“You’re perfect for him,” he says.
“What?” Your rhythm falters and you lose your sense of balance, stepping on his foot as you try to keep yourself from falling. “Sorry.”
He laughs, tickling your sides. “See? That’s what I mean. Took you dummies long enough to realize it.”
“It’s my fault. I was too scared and stupid to see what was right in front of me this entire time.” You sigh and lean back, surprised to find his chest a decent distance away. “I still think he’s too good for me.”
“Oh, pffft. Stop it,” Hoseok chides in your ear.
“I hope— Ugh, nevermind.”
“What?”
A small chuckle escapes with a held breath. “It’s dumb.”
“So?”
“I just— I hope my love is good enough for him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
His hands hug around your stomach and push you closer to him, but the way they subtly tremble as they descend to rest on your hips feels different. When Hoseok steps around and hands still clasp you from behind, your heart soars. If not for the familiarity of the stiff chest at your back and the loving embrace enveloping your form, you might be nervous.
Namjoon’s lips caress your ear as he whispers, “You know it is.”
Even your best attempt to hide your embarrassed smile would fail, so it’s a good thing you’re not even trying. Hoseok wears a satisfied grin as he watches you turn towards Namjoon for a shy kiss. He thinks about leaving you with dancing advice, but instead he decides to slink away wordlessly. There isn’t anything he could say right now that the two of you would hear, not when you’re in a world of your own like this.
It’s easy to lose track of time as you grind against him, teasing him with every swaying motion of your hips. Every sigh against your ear spurs you on to press him further. Even with all the layers between you, the hard length grinding against your ass is ever-present and obvious enough to make you want to bend over so he can take you right here.
Instead you dance and feel his body move against yours until exhaustion starts to set in. Tae and Jennie are already waiting for a ride by the time you step outside. Your cheeks ache from smiling so much and every muscle in your face is too tired to speak. She looks just as tired as you but she gives you a small greeting.
It’s funny how you don’t find anything odd about the way she leans into Tae as they sit near one another, or the way Tae is absentmindedly stroking her hair. You feel like it should be odd, but the world is so far away that you can’t hold the details in your brain long enough to make a connection. Between the haze of alcohol and sleep, you’re too far gone to think too much about it.
Namjoon keeps his arm around you as he talks to Tae, but you don’t catch much of their conversation. Sleep threatens to take you where you stand. You count yourself lucky that Namjoon cares for you so well. You close your eyes to rest for a moment, but when you open them again he’s unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you out of the lyft. You shuffle past the threshold of Tae’s home.
Namjoon leads you down the hall to the guest room and pulls on the dangling chain on the lamp  near the bed. A soft yellow glow fills the room as you start to sleepily yank the clothing from your body. Namjoon quickly goes for the open door, but Tae is already in the doorway averting his gaze with one hand and holding a small quilt in the other.
“Thanks. She, uh, gets really cold,” Namjoon says, blocking your body with his frame as you bend at the waist to untie the shoes you now realize are blocking your pants from sliding over your feet.
“Sorry. Let me know if you need anything else,” Tae mumbles, clearly embarrassed. “Goodnight.”
“Night,” Namjoon murmurs back, clutching the quilt as he softly closes the door and turns to you. “Baby.”
“Hmm.”
Your foot is stuck in your shoe but you can’t get your foot out because your shoe is stuck in your jeans. This is a conundrum.
“Baby, you’re gonna fall. Sit down. I’ll help you.”
“I can do it,” you mumble, plopping down on the edge of the bed.
“I know,” he says, already on his knees before you.
He frees your legs and gives you a kiss as he helps you wiggle below the bedspread, setting the quilt on top of your side.
“It’s hot,” you mumble.
“I know.”
“Too hot for blankets.”
“I know. How about the sheet?” he asks, rolling everything back except for the topsheet. He knows you. You’ll want them again soon enough.
“Mm. Come here.” You reach your grabby hands out for him as he flicks the light off.
“I’m coming.” He laughs and slides beside you. “So needy.”
Although you know he can’t see you pout, he pulls you toward his chest anyway and it turns into a smirk against his warm skin.
“It’s ‘cause I needy--you” you slur with a giggle, planting your lips against his chest in a drawn out kiss.
“You’re a hot mess and I love you,” he says, shaking his head.
“Love you, too.”
It’s clear you’re already falling asleep but he gently strokes your arm until the world around you begins to cool and fall away. When you roll away with a shiver, he carefully secures your body in a cocoon of blankets and drapes his arm and leg over you. Not even overheating could keep him from your touch. A wave of calm overtakes him.
This time he knows: this is love.
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
Months into your relationship,you’ve have prepared for the end of the semester by planning a little vacation for just the two of you. Namjoon struggles to get through his last day of work, daydreaming about staying at Tae’s summer home and laying on the beach with you. His favorite hiking spot isn’t too far from there and he’s been dying to take you and show you the clearing of wildflowers he loves so much. Hopefully they’ve bloomed beautifully.
He yawns and stretches out, flipping the binder on his desk. It’s been a long day, commemorating the end of a long week. He’s exhausted, but he’s graded every last paper and is in good shape to submit final scores by the deadline. His phone buzzes against the dark wood in the only spot bereft of errant papers. He flips the screen around, finally allowing himself to check the time and give in to distractions.
You: Still working bae
He smiles, thumb gliding over the screen effortlessly while attempting to organize the mess on his desk.
Namjoon: Just finishing up. You: 😏 You: can I You: come before you finish You: it’s only fair
He halts his efforts to stare at his phone.
Namjoon: … You: yes?? Namjoon: 🤦‍♂️ You: what? I’m serious You: 😈😈😈 Namjoon: You on campus? You: I mean... You: who else is gonna be your ride 😘
He shakes his head, smile growing wider as he glances up at the monitor before him. He definitely doesn’t miss running to catch the last bus on late nights. He’s nearly done logging final comments. He’ll be done sooner than you can get here, but this might be as good a time as any to make the reveal.
Namjoon hits the icon to call you, swooning at the familiar image of you stealing his drink. He straightens his glasses and types away at the keyboard while trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder. It doesn’t ring for very long.
“Joonie?”
“Hey, I gotta upload these grades but I’m having trouble.”
You sigh. The last thing you want to do tonight is work, especially not with what you had planned. “What kind of trouble?”
Even as he types away on the keyboard, his mind searches for a term, some kind of red alert to get you off the phone and into his office so he can tell you in person.
“Uh… blue screen.”
“Blue screen of death?” You rub your temple. “What does it say?”
“Uh,” he swallows, pausing to proofread the comment along with the grade he’s about to submit. “It just restarted.”
“On its own?”
Submit.
“Yeah.”
“Is this the first time it’s doing this?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, see if it starts up okay. We can always come back before we go on vacation.”
“Baby, I really want to get these done tonight. I was so close to being done so we can start tonight.”
You sigh heavily and check your makeup in the rearview mirror. “Is it starting up?”
“No, it’s beeping.”
Even straining your ears doesn’t help you pick up on the sound.  “Are you sure?”
“Can you come here? Please?”
Your heart melts. “I’ll be right there.”
You turn the car off and grab one of Namjoon’s oversized hoodies from the backseat. You slip it over your skimpy outfit and carefully make your way to the library, tugging on the hem like it will somehow magically cover all the exposed flesh down to your knees. No such luck. Regardless of how many times you’ve practiced wearing these awful heels, it’s not like you expected to be walking up several flights of stairs in them.
There’s no security guard at the station across the quad. You don’t know if you should feel as happy as you do about that. Despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to get in your car and demand an escort to his office, embarrassment outweighs any fear for safety and you push on. Only a familiar yellow cardigan draped over a chair greets you at the receptionist’s desk, its occupant long gone for the night.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you climb the stairs, passing stack after stack of dimly lit bookshelves until you’re standing outside of the only office still illuminated. Thankfully the door is propped open and you power walk as fast as you can towards it. The faster you can fix it, the faster you can head home and celebrate the end of the semester the way you originally planned.
He nearly tips the chair as he stands. It hits the back wall of his office with a graceless bang. “Y/N? Are those heels? Did you drive here in those?”
It’s difficult to keep your lips as they are when he adorns that expression, features battling between where they might settle: aroused or awestruck. You’d rather not screw up the perfect lipstick application you worked so hard to achieve— not yet at least. The plan is to be on your knees when that happens.
“You look—” he pauses as his traveling eyes try to glean any information they can. His voice lowers to a whisper and he quickly attempts to sate his curiosity with a wandering hand up your thigh. “Are-Are you not wearing anything under there?”
Before you can answer his fingers find the pleated fabric hidden beneath the hoodie and a new, eager question fumbles from his lips. “What are... you wearing?”
As much as you’d like for him to keep exploring, you muster enough willpower to smack his hands away. It’s only fair that he has to wait while you work.
“Computer first. You said it was beeping. Did it ever start back up?”
He swallows hard as you round the desk and start troubleshooting. It’s hard to think when all the blood in his brain is quickly evacuating in favor of inhabiting a far less intelligent location. He’s supposed to say something. He knows that much. But you look so beautiful he forgets how to say it. Your brows furrow in frustration and you sigh his name.
You’ve done your makeup, your hair is down for the first time in a long time, and you even put on a cute outfit as far as he can gather. But here you are in his hoodie, donning a pair of blue-light blocking glasses, rolling up the baggy sleeves, and tying your hair into a tight ponytail as you start to go into full on geeksquad mode. Even with your hunched shoulders and irritated tongue clicking, you’re trying to help him, still beautiful in the way he loves.
Underneath all that skin-deep beauty that fades with time, within the wrinkles that have already begun to crease the edges of your eyes and the corners of your mouth, you shine. You shine brighter than any star he’s ever seen. Months of reflecting your light haven’t been enough to show you the true glow of your soul, but he’s confident that one day you’ll see it.
He’s pulled back to reality as your scowl settles on him. Repeatedly pressing the power button with your finger won’t change the fact that he’s purposefully unplugged it, a fact it seems you’ve come to realize when you reach for the VGA cable and there’s nothing there.
A charming, dimpled smile graces his features and he picks up the monitor with ease. “I, uh, think maybe something fell off before you got here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your computer, is there?” You lean back in the chair and sigh as he stands there like a fool on the opposite side of the desk, cradling his LCD screen like a bouquet.
“No,” he says sheepishly. He gently lowers the monitor to the floor and sighs. “I planned on presenting this better, but you distracted me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while now.”
Your stomach is spinning and you take in a deep breath. Oh fuck. Is he really going to break up with you? No, he can’t be. He wouldn’t be smiling about that. Would he?
“Nothing bad,” he quickly adds, circling behind the desk and your chair in one large stride. His thumbs dive into the fabric of your hoodie to rub circles into your shoulders.  “At least I don’t think you’ll think it’s bad…” Terror strikes at his belly and he adds, “Unless you do...”
“Joon. Please. You’re stressing me out. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
He spins the chair around and squats down onto one knee. He straightens his tie and reaches for your hand, sending your stomach on another rollercoaster ride, only this one is running in the complete opposite direction and you’re equally as unprepared. You’re not really a marriage kind of person. Well, maybe you are, but you’re not sure. It’s too soon to know! You’re more of a limbless amoeba at this point, stuffed into heels and floating with the other protozoa in the petri dish of the universe, unthinking, just existing.
The world stops as he reaches into his coat pocket and you find yourself too petrified to speak. You close your eyes and slump into the chair like you’ve become a being comprised solely of pudding. Your skirt rides up as you sink and your panties shrink into the world’s thinnest thong. Have you ever held a breath for this long? Maybe you’ll melt through the mesh seat and evaporate into the cheap carpet below. It takes him too long to realize his latest mistake.
It was probably the pudding hand that tipped him off.
“Oh. Shit. Okay. No, look at me. I’m not—” He laughs and sets something in your palm, closing your fingers around it and holding them there. “Look.”
You finally settle on the floor before him and squeeze the item in your palm. It feels unremarkable, like a basic wire or plastic cap. The most remarkable part about it is that it is definitely not a ring.
Relief washes over you with the breath you exhale. “Joon. You’re killing me. Please.”
“Here’s the thing.”
He releases your hand so you can look at this unremarkable thing that has caused you so much panic. It’s the plastic head of a CAT5 plug, pins and all. You tilt your head to one side and inspect it with childlike curiosity and bewilderment.
“I’m not that bad with computers. I mean, I’m not like you-level, but I’m not as bad as you think.”
Things begin to click into place. This isn’t just any ethernet plug. It’s the first one, the one you couldn’t fathom disappearing like it did, leaving a mess of wires in its wake. Namjoon just seemed so clueless that you naturally blamed drunken students vandalizing campus property for shits and giggles. It never crossed your mind that the sweet, quiet professor could have staged the whole thing.
“Before I knew you, I wanted to know you. But I felt like I needed an excuse to talk to you so I…” He reaches into his pocket and adds various bits of broken plastic and screws to your cupped hand. “...did this.”
You blink stupidly at the pile in your palm, watching busted pieces of plastic slide off the side of the tiny heap of junk and fall onto the floor beside your knees. “Oh my god. You…?”
“Breaking things seemed like the easiest way to spend time with you,” he admits. “At least at first. I started doing less destructive things after a while. Deleting empty documents. Unplugging my keyboard. Turning off bluetooth. Moving my email shortcuts. I mean, damn. I thought you caught me more than once. I kept waiting for you to call me out. I dreaded it. I hoped for it.”
A cackle bubbles in the back of your throat but you suppress it with a snort. “So you held onto these? This whole time?”
“I didn’t know if I should like, recycle them or not and it’s not like I could ask you. And I mean googling that just seems suspicious. I’m not about to land myself on a watch list or something. But like, for real, you should definitely tell me if I can recycle them though because I have more and I would really like to clean out my drawer.”
Laughter breaches your lips in full force. “You faked being bad at stuff this whole time? Joonie, are you serious? I can’t believe I fell for the way — the way you type!” You cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath between laughs. “With two fingers! I should have known. Only dads type like that. Oh my god. “
He offers a sheepish smile. “Actually, I really type like that. Something about the keys.”
“Oh.” Your laughter dies. “Sorry. I mean that like… mmm. You know what, I meant what I said. Kinda crazy, considering you text faster than me.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Okay. Texting is different.”
You cross your arms, burying the broken pieces in your clenched fist. “Have you ever needed my help? Should even come running anymore?”
“Hey, sometimes I really do. I’m still clumsy. Plus, it’s out there now. I have no reason to waste your time... unless you want me to. I won’t stop you from climbing under my desk in those hot pants you wear with all the little pockets.”
You furrow your brows and scoff, an incredulous grin spreading across your face. “My cargo pants? Those pockets are huge.”
“Not compared to your ass.” He shakes his head with a smile, holds up his hands like he’s cupping your ass and pretends to squeeze it a couple times.
“Why are you like this?” You laugh with a roll of your eyes.
“Excuse me, who’s the one getting so drunk she’s going on thinking it’s hot to talk about making guacamole with my avocado dick?”
“Vaguely remember that. Smeared it all over me though, didn’t you?” You grin and wiggle your eyebrows.
He purses his lips and takes a breath. “If you mean watched you drink too fast on an empty stomach while we waited for takeout, sat with you while you dry-heaved for 20 minutes untiI I carried you to the couch and held your hand till you drank enough water to fall asleep, then yeah. Smeared it good.”
“And that’s why… I love you.”
You lean in and stop short of his lips, sitting back enough to narrow your eyes at him.
”Wait a minute. Projector.”
If you’ve been living on a ramen and cereal diet for two years because of a man’s inability to properly express romantic interest, you’re going to be pissed, regardless of how much you love said man now.
“Oh, hey, no. Hold up. The projector was a real accident. I cried,” he reminds you. “I will proclaim you as my goddess and savior for all time on that one.”
“Goddess, huh?” you smirk and close your fist around the busted pieces, leaning in for a kiss. “You gonna call me that instead now? I think I like that better than Geeksquad.”
He hums disagreement against your lips, “Mmm-mmm.”
You rest your forehead against his. “Promise me you won’t purposefully break anything else going forward.”
“I promise. That includes your heart,” he whispers, cupping your chin and pressing his lips against your cheek.
“You are so corny.” You pull at his tie, grinning as you lure him to your lips again. “And I’m so here for it. Now are you gonna help me up so we can start our vacation? Or are you gonna sit there with a hard dick and pretend like you still have work to do?”
He clicks his tongue and rises to his feet to extend a hand to you. As you attempt to pull yourself up, he reaches for your sides and lifts you with ease until you’re perched on the edge of his desk. He didn’t ask you to part your legs yet they spread for him anyway, wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.
“Are you gonna make me guess what all this is about?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving your crude ponytail a soft tug.
You smirk, staring at the red streaks of your lipstick circling his mouth while you try to ignore the heat between your legs that begs you to take him right here. You’ve imagined fucking on this desk thousands of times, but at least you still have enough sense to realize the risk in playing out that fantasy. He’s got a perfectly good desk at his place anyway.
“Take me home and maybe you’ll get to find out,” you say, pulling your keys from the hoodie pocket and letting them hang from your finger.
He groans as he takes them from you. “You know I can’t do highways.”
“Backroads are fine.”
“It’s gonna take forever,” he complains, dropping his head to your shoulder.
“It’s a good time to practice. Come on.” You pat his back a couple times and hop down from the desk, making sure to grind yourself against his erection. “I promise I’ll make it worth the wait.”
───── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─────
As soon as you’re in his apartment, you remove the hoodie to reveal your very crude surprise: a slutty schoolgirl costume. Eyes wide and jaw slack, he stops loosening his tie to imitate a lifeless statue of a drooling neanderthal.
“Y/N, what is… Why?”
“Because,” you begin in a low, sultry tone as you drag your fingers over the soft silk still in his hand. “I want you to teach me a lesson.”
His soft exhale fills the space between you and he stumbles to form a response. He laughs nervously, unable to compose himself. “What?”
You bite your lip, suddenly feeling stupidly uncertain. “You… watch this porn all the time, don’t you? At least I thought you did. Oh. Oh god. This is stupid. Sorry.”
He grips your shoulders to keep you from running towards the bedroom. His eyelids flutter for a
second as he struggles to compose his thoughts. “No. It’s fine. I’m all for roleplay. I’m just... I’m not into the teacher-student trope.”
You frown and reach into the hard-drive files of your brain for any porn you’ve seen on his computer. He’s lying and he knows you know it. He wilts under your puzzled gaze.
“I’m not that into it. Like a lot. I’ve seen some, but only when the story is there.”
“Oh, the story?” You hold back a giggle.
Is he really trying to tell you he’s watching porn for the plot to cover for some terrible porno choices? He should know by now that you don’t care about that. You’ve watched more than your fair share of terrible videos just to get off and immediately hated yourself after. It shouldn’t come as a surprise considering he pretended to be a total idiot with technology for years to cover up his feelings.
“What? I’m serious. I think it’s great when the woman is the teacher and the guy is her equal, you know? She definitely makes as much as he does, if not more because she does it in tight clothes because of the dress code, you know? And he comes in one day after hours and is like how does all this work, anyway? And she starts explaining but you know a button snaps and there’s tension. Baby, you know I’m a feminist. I would never—”
“Joonie. I’m not judging you. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t into it myself. I thought it might be fun. And I mean… I really wanted an excuse to have you bend me over your desk, but if you’re not interested I can just—” As soon as you start to work at the buttons of your blouse, he reaches out to stop you.
“We can try it,” he says, bashfully taking a step back and tapping his fingertips against yours. “I’d like to, if you’re down.”
You see an opportunity to break the tension and put him at ease, donning your best valley-girl accent. “Oh em gee, Professor Kim! You are, like, my favorite teacher. Is there some way I can get some extra credit? Puhleeeaase.”
“Nope, none of that,” he says with a laugh, twining his fingers with yours. “As a rule you cannot use that voice.”
“Fair enough.” You lead him towards the desk and gesture to the chair nearby. “How about I’m the teacher since you like that plot point so much?”
He chews his lip to hold back a toothy grin and watches with eager eyes as you bend at the waist to inspect the desk before him, giving a clear view of your ass and panties as your skirt rises. You relocate anything valuable to the nearby bookshelf and work on gathering the papers strewn about the surface.
“Sorry just let me gather up all my extra paychecks,” you mumble.
Once the desk is clear you perch yourself on its edge. Namjoon is already holding out a hair tie and a pair of glasses.
“You forgot these at the staff meeting.”
You roll your eyes and grin, working your hair into a messy bun and resting the glasses atop your head. “Thank you, Professor Kim.”
“Professor Kim is my father. Call me Namjoon.”
You purse your lips and try your best not to laugh, uncrossing and recrossing your legs purposefully. “I suppose you can call me Y/N, then.”
He makes no attempt to hide his lurid gaze, but his eyes travel to your face and he smiles. “Can I call you beautiful, instead?”
“Very smooth, Joonie,” you chuckle, breaking character for a moment.
“Joonie. Hmm. I like the way that sounds in your mouth.”
“I think there’s something else you’d like in my mouth. Maybe you’d like to put it in?”
Namjoon straightens in his seat as you approach, chest heaving in anticipation as he spreads his legs further so you might slot yourself between them. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you work his belt off, slowly sinking to your knees as you try to will yourself to break away from his kiss. He’s eager to unzip his pants and free his cock for you. It stands at attention, eagerly awaiting your touch.
Your breath warms the tip as you skim your lips across him, teasing him just enough to have him twitching, aching to thrust into that pretty mouth. He bites his lip as he looks down at you and inhales sharply through his nose the moment you grip his shaft. The moan that follows is like music to your ears and you grant him the flat of your tongue to reward such a sound.
He combs his fingers through his hair and clutches your shoulder as you take him into your mouth. The dark swollen head of his shaft is thick enough to make your jaw ache, but the sound of him cursing and losing all sense of coherence makes it worth it. As he sinks further into your mouth, he tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut in ecstasy.
You take him as deep as you can, allowing your spit to coat his cock. He likes it when it’s sloppy, when you’re drooling over yourself while he fills your mouth and you’re more than happy to oblige. Your eyes water as he flirts with the back of your throat with a soft, shallow thrust. When you choke his head snaps up to focus on you but you wave his concerned look away and grip his shaft tightly.
A thin string of precum and spit still connects your mouth to him as you lean back for just a second to compose yourself.
“Hope you don’t have any other meetings planned.”
“Why’s that?” His palm gently cups the back of your head, waiting for the moment you’re ready to take him again.
“I’m gonna make a mess of you.”
“Good.”
You meet his eyes and gather as much spit in your mouth as you can, allowing it to dribble down his cock before pumping your fist over him. He doesn’t have time to guide your head back down because you’re already on him again, working him over with your hand any place the warmth of your mouth can’t reach.
He chokes out an expletive and buries a hand in your hair, taking in the sight of your perfect mouth offering the bliss he craves. “You take me so well.”
You bob on his cock until he snakes his fingers down to undo the first button of your blouse, granting him access to a sliver of cleavage. He’s eager to see more of you, to feel more of you. Even after months of being with you, it doesn’t take much to tip him over the edge. He won’t last much longer if you keep going, but he’ll be damned if he blows his load in your mouth before even getting an opportunity to touch you.
“I wanna feel you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to coax you away from his cock and back to his lips.
The moment you press your lips against his he reaches for your waist to help you stand. He’s about to follow suit when you surprise him, straddling his lap and grasping at his tie to pull him towards your chest. His cock throbs as it grinds against the slick barrier of your soaked panties, begging for entrance as he buries his face in the splendor of your cleavage. A roll of your hips tempts him to push your panties aside and plunge into you like this. His fingers work as quickly as they can to pop open a few more buttons before slipping down to grip the meat of your ass.
“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding yourself down.
His arms tense and before you can entice him further he stands with a grunt, hoisting you onto the desk. You barely have time to react as he yanks your panties down and plunges a finger into your dripping cunt. Planting an arm behind you and keeping the other clasped around the back of his neck, you weakly attempt to keep yourself somewhat upright.
“How about you make a mess for me instead,” he whispers, leaving your cunt in favor of rubbing quick circles against your clit. “And then I’ll fill you up. Walk you out of here past everyone so they can see my cum dripping from your thighs. Everyone will know what a filthy slut you are for me, won’t they, beautiful?”
The way your muscles tense up nearly gives you a cramp. You bite your lip and nod with a pathetic fucked out grin as he fucks his fingers into your cunt, continuing to rub against your clit. Your elbow wobbles and you frantically grasp at his shirt instead, balling the material into your fist, desperate to undo the buttons but too close to nirvana to remember how to perform such a simple task. Your legs shake against the surface of the desk, and while the steady rhythm of his finger against your clit is heavenly, you’re ready to cry when his fingers leave your hole empty and aching to be filled.
“Joon, please.”
As soon as the desperate plea leaves your mouth, the tip of his cock teases your entrance, providing small, shallow thrusts that send you soaring past the threshold of your release. He can’t help but smile against your kiss as you drag his bottom lip through your teeth and melt into his form. Your walls spasm wildly around him and he gradually lets the pressure off your clit, instead increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. He fucks you through the shockwaves of pleasure that follow your orgasm, stilling only when your eyelids stop fluttering and you’re able to meet his gaze with a fatigued satisfaction.
“Why’d you stop?” you wonder, lazily opening the buttons on his shirt. Pert brown nipples poke out from beneath the soft fabric, with the silky tie still swaying between them.
He watches you with a smile for a moment before pursuing the last few buttons of your blouse. Quickly working it off your shoulders, you give him the opportunity to reach for the clasp of your bra. It doesn’t take long for him to sweep you into a deep kiss, entranced by the way your skin feels against him while he’s still buried inside of you.
“Bend over this desk for me, baby. Show me that sexy ass.”
You whimper at the loss of his cock but do as he asks, knowing you’ll soon be full again. He lifts your skirt, takes both cheeks in his hands and squeezes before giving one side a slap. The moan that escapes you is embarrassing and it spurs him to repeat the action.
“Fuck,” he whispers, finally allowing his cock to press against cunt once more. “So fucking wet.”
Your own juices coat the expanse of your thighs, slowly trailing down them. Without warning he slams into you hard and fast. Wet slapping sounds fill the room as he holds your hips, driving them back to meet his thrusts.
“So fucking tight.”
You grip the opposing edge of the desk and moan. “You’re so deep, baby.”
“Fuck...” The word is exhaled through a shaky breath.
“So deep you could read me poetry,” you whisper, unable to stop the joke even though you know he’s on the cusp of cumming.
He huffs out a strained puff of air as he tries his hardest not to laugh. He gives in to the laughter after you begin to giggle. Unable to save himself, he leans into the joke that threatens to ruin his orgasm. “You’re my person. You’re my desire. You’re my pride...”
His thrusts are sloppy, his legs tense. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder to make sure he’s not mad. It must be your own grin that is contagious because he’s smiling even though he’s shaking his head at you.
“You’re my love. One and only love,” you recite for him, reaching back for his hand and pushing your hips back into him with force.
His grip on your hip tightens and he squeezes your hand. He slams into you a final time with a moan, ensuring he’s as deep as he can be before filling you with his seed. The pleasure amplifies every time you try to wiggle back for some sort of movement and he moves his hand to your ass, digging his fingernails in like it will keep him grounded. He leans over your form, kissing any bit of skin on your back his lips can reach.
Regardless of the sensitivity he keeps himself buried in you, hoping by some miracle he’ll stay hard enough to fuck you a second time. He can’t tell what’s his mess and what’s yours anymore as it drips down his balls to his thighs. As he finally slips out, you turn to face him with a sweet smile on your lips.
Your fingers glide through his hair and trail down to cradle his cheek. “I love you.”
Namjoon leans into your touch, pressing his lips to the inside of your palm. “I love you too.”
Maybe it’s the endorphins, but he can’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable and happy with another person, someone he can be so unapologetically himself with. He’s completely certain that he’s bound to you by fate. The love you share is destiny, a gift from the universe he never intends to take for granted.
No matter what the future holds, he knows he wants you by his side through it all: his one and only love.
447 notes · View notes
oneirataxiahiraeth · 3 years
Note
Can I request a Kai Parker smut when the reader is Bonnie's cousin and the reader sees through the things that Kai has done.
Dudeeee I actually had a this whole concept already in my drafts!!! Sorry it’s taken me a while, I’m a very indecisive person so this was written over and over again LMFAO
Pairings : Bennett!Reader X KaiParker
Warnings : angst., some more angst, angry Bonnie, Kai Slander, mentions of blood/violence/gore, mentions of murder, language, smut, not proof read
Requested : ;) I originally based this off of POV by Ariana Grande but I made some tweaks to it so yeah
Word Count : 7k
Tumblr media
Your head was light and brain struggling to make any connections to the rest of your body. Your back rested against the dining room chair as you let whatever Jo fed to you get mushy in your mouth. Caroline had fed you some of her blood but your headache remained. Everything about today had went south and now everyone was just waiting on the edges of their chairs for something to happen and just wrap up the gift of shittiness to this very bad day. Unfortunately for you, you just so happened to be the fucking bow.
"I thought I told you to stay away from her!" Bonnie snapped in the living room at the brown haired siphon. You couldn't hear the arguments happening in the other room solely because you were too busy being coddled by Jo and Caroline to make sure you wouldn't be able to hear the scolding Kai was receiving in the other room.
Bonnie never saw what you did whenever she looked at him. In her mind, you were just another one of his victims. He couldn't have had any good intentions with you. Kai Parker never had good intentions of any kind. He's selfish, and evil, and cruel, and there's no way in hell she was going to let him keep ruining your life after what happened today. Everyone knew who he was and what he did, everyone saw how dangerous he could be... except you just refused to acknowledge it. Truthfully, she didn't know whether to direct all her anger at him for hurting you or put all her disappointment on you for letting it get this far.
"Bonnie I swear, it's not like that! I never meant to hurt her, it just happened and I couldn't control it-"
"I swear to god I will kill you right now, and I wouldn't even need magic to do it." She growled.
He couldn't understand what made her so angry. Obviously he never meant to siphon so much out of you, really he didn't mean to siphon you at all. He was just planning on telling from Bonnie and the bracelet you gave him with a bit of your magic in it for emergencies and hoped the whole spell would work out fine.
"It was an accident!"
"Like hell it was!" Everyone stood around... watching... waiting... hoping. Hoping he would step out of line just once so they could rip his head off. "Nothing with you is an accident, Kai!"
"I would never intentionally hurt her, Bonnie! Believe or not I'm still capable of human emotions!" He scoffed, nothing the vampires surrounding him ready to pounce at any given moment, and with his anger levels rising they were about to have a field day.
"Of course you would, Kai! You hurt everyone who's close with you! Whether it's literally or metaphorically you always find a reason that benefits you, that justifies you hurting someone else! That's just who you are! You want nothing good with her, Kai! She's a good person, just leave her alone!" Bonnie growled, but Kai wasn't going to give in so easily.
"I've changed, Bonnie!"
"Changed into what? An even better liar? Because for an actual second there, Kai, I really believe you stayed in mystic falls just to live the life you never got to!" She fired.
"That's-"
"You know, if you wanted to make us even considering liking you, you should've moved. Far, far away from here, somewhere where you can't fucked up our lives enough for us to continue to have another fucking reason to hate you!" His shoulders dropped, hurting filling him to the brim. Usually he wouldn't let things like words get to him. She was upset with him, people say things they don't mean when they're upset... only she would've said this even in her happiest moments of life. She did hate him, and she had every reason to.
"She makes me a better person- When I'm I'm with her I want to be a better Person, Bon!" He defended himself. He knew the real reason he was with her, to him it was quite obvious. She made him feel as though the world wasn't out to get him. She could stop a nightmare before it even began with just a breathing the way she does. She made the best cupcakes, even though her cooking skills were mediocre, magic could fix everything. She made him smile without even doing anything just from the warm giddy feeling in his body when he's around her. Y/N Bennett... she was the only person to exist to make Malachi Parker feel like he deserved to live.
"Bullshit! You're just using her-"
"It isn't like that!" He snapped, causing the argument to halt for a few seconds.
"Really? Then tell me, Kai. What is it? Is it because she's my cousin? Is that why you're interested in her? To get back at me in your own disgusting twisted way? Or is it because of the blood? I bet her Bennett blood would come in real handy just in case-"
"No! I wouldn't do that to her-"
"Or is it because you're just so desperate for someone who actually feels like a friend that you decided to keep her around? Hmm? Maybe it's because after 18 years holed up in that prison word, you finally came to the realization that there is no possible way you could ever be loved. That you deserve to be alone for the rest of eternity. But all of a sudden, here she is, Precious y/n Bennet, the only person who is willingly to search for even a shred of good in you!" She spat. Everyone around watching guards fell as the watched Kai slowly become less tense. His shoulders falling slowly, the will the defend himself leaving his body along with his will to live, embarrassment and anger rushing through his veins, but a small part of him kept him in the room and not on his way back to his apartment. "Let me tell you something, Kai. Maybe this you can finally get it through your head." Bonnie feeling confident enough to take a step towards the stunned looking Siphon. "Not even a Bennett witch is strong enough to fix the broken, unlovable, vile person you really are. And if you truly, by some fucking miracle have a beating heart in your chest, if you've actually let her change you for the better, then you know she's better off without you. We both know that you don't deserve her in any way, shape, or form... so just let her go. Find someone else to ruin and leave her alone."
It felt as if all the oxygen in his body had left. His heart stopped pumping blood through his veins, and slowly and painfully he felt as if he was desiccating on the insides. He hadn't even noticed the tear that had escaped while he was being scolded.
Both you and Jos head turn as you hear a muffled scream that sounded like it came from Bonnie. You tried to stand by Jo eased you back down, shaking her head as if everything was all right. You couldn't hear much of the conversation going on in the other room, but you knew if it was enough to make Bonnie angry then it was never good. And Bonnie in their with Kai... was enough to make her wanna take out the entire town of Mystic Falls.
"I feel fine Jo, I'm good." You reassure her, standing on your own again against her advice.
She knew what was going on in there... they've been going at it since before you even regained consciousness. She wasn't worried about you not being able to stand on your own, she was worried about you overbearing the heavy conversation happening in the other room.
"Maybe we should head to a clinic or something, you did hit your head pretty hard!" She tries quickly but you shaking your head.
"Caroline gave me her blood, I'll be fine." You responded, looking to the blood who seemed to be in total shock and not at all paying attention to either of you. "I think I'm just going go home and sleep, promise I won't do anything to crazy." You sent Jo a soft smile, tilting your head at Caroline in confusion but ultimately ignored it. Maybe it was some weird vampire sensory thing.
"You should take the back door!" Jo tried again, just to keep you from walking back into the living room.
"I would..." you narrowed your eyes at the dark haired doctor. "But my keys are by the front door." You spoke, walking towards the living room before Jo could make any more excuses. You caught on fast, but really you did just want to go home.
"Wait No-" Jo stood quickly, Caroline finally snapping back into consciousness. By the time she could truly think, you were already walking through the doors leading into the living room. There was still a bit of your blood on the carpet, you knew Damon was going to bitch about that later so you figured you get out why you still could.
Well... that's what you were planning to do before you stopped just to notice all of the eyes planted on you. You first assumed that it was just them just surprised at your speedy recovery... but the tear running down your boyfriends cheek made you rethink a bit. Kai never cried. No matter what or ho he was feeling, there was not a thing in this world that he would ever let get to him. Maybe he was just so worn out from the spell too that he didn't even feel himself tearing up. The whole room felt tense, and even Jo and Caroline looked like this in the Kitchen.
"What's going on?" You felt your own body tense a bit as Kai's eyes fell down to the floor.
"nothin'" Kai mumbled, voice shaky. Your eyes narrowed with obvious disbelief. His voice was kind of small, and he couldn't even look at you. He had so many thoughts racing through his head he had no idea what to do.
"Why don't i believe that..." you spoke, mostly to yourself. "I was just about to head home." You mentioned wearily. "Are you coming or are you just gonna stand there awkwardly?" You asked, half joking and half wanting to know what had him so actually upset.
"Uhm," he spoke looking back up, eyes immediately attracted to Bonnie before looking back to you. He felt her glare burning into the side of his head, her whole rant repeating itself in his mind over and over again. "Yeah, yeah, I'll drive." He nodded, turning around just so he wouldn't have to look at you again. Before he could walk, Bonnie had grabbed his arm. Rather tightly, and oddly to be honest. She usually avoided any sort of interaction with him, so even an arm touch was a weird sight to you.
All she sent was a simple look that seem to have him shaken down to his boots before she let him go. Her eyes falling back to you. She sent a smile, before just walking away. Not a word. Just silence. It was weird, no one else had much to say either, just weird looks on their faces and more silence to give. You ignored them though, just wanting to get home.
"Uhm, okay." You responded to the silence, shaking out the bad feeling from your mind before walking through the living room. You grabbed you jacket off the couch before walking over to Kai. You reached your hand up to touch his arm but he shrugged you off, walking towards the front door without even look at you. Was he mad? What could he possibly have been mad at you for?
You pretended to not noticed the coldness and just follow after him out the door. He got into the car, barely even waiting until your door was fully closed before taking off out of the driveway. He needed to get you home. To stop himself from doing the right thing and letting you go because he didn't want that. He wanted you, for as long as he could manage to keep you in his grasp. It was selfish of him, but everyone already knew what he was like so he didn't really care. He's happy with you. Happy with his life with you. Happy with his life around you. Happy with himself with you.... why in hell would he ever give you up?
Bonnie was right though, letting you go wasn't about his happiness. It was about yours. And as selfish as he was, your happiness would always come above his own. He made sure of that everyday. He didn't eat until you did, he took shorter showers so you could have more hot water, or he'd just wait until you were done and take whatever was left. You wanted- deserved a life without him and all the despair and pain that follows him around. You didn't deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night because he was restless. You didn't deserve to be distanced from all your friends just because you liked him. If living the best life you could meant leaving him behind, he was fine with that. He was fine with that for you. He was fine with you being happy even if it meant he would've been miserable for the remainder of his life.
"Kai, you need to slow down!" You spoke up, hand moving to his thigh as you noticed his hand clutching the wheel so tightly. "Your going 70 in a 35" it was late and no one was out on the streets, he didn't care how fast he was going.
"It's fine, y/n." He muttered, eyes not leaving the road. There were no deer out in this time of the year, there was no danger of hitting much of anything.
"No, Kai, it's dangerous." You responded, "slow down, please."
"No." He needed to get you home. If he slowed down, that gave you more time to talk. More time for him to think, more reasons to flood his brain on why you were better off without him.
"No? Kai, come on, seriously you need to slow down." You scoffed, not amused by his resistance. "I'd rather not die in a car crash before I'm old enough to run for president."
"Could you stop talking? Like just for a moment!" He huffed.
"Wha- I- no! What the hell is wrong with you? Slow the car down, Kai!" His eyes rolled, momentarily forgetting just how persistent you could be. "Kai!" Your hand moving from his thigh as you contemplated jumping out of the car just to see what he would do. Maybe after you break probably every bone in your body he'll slow the fucking car down. "Stop the damn car." You spoke but he ignored you, hoping you would just stop talking to him.
Instead of you stopping with the chat, he felt himself stomping on the break as your seatbelt came undone. Your body moving forward fast, colliding with the dashboard, and knocking the absolute wind out of you. He unbuckles his seat belt quickly, looking over to you. You were fine, your boobs not so much, but it wasn't unbearable. You let out a deep throaty couch, opening your car door. You only unbuckled your seat belt to get him to slow down, put the fear in him that you were going to jump out.
Well... it sort of worked.
"Y/N, what the hell?!" He growled, following you out the car. You were leaned onto the car trying to get some air into your king as the adrenaline started releasing through your body. "What the hell were you going to do? Jump out of the fucking car because I was got a few miles over? You could've gotten hurt! Hurt worse the just hitting the dashboard! What if another car was coming? You could've gotten ran over, and killed! Then you'd wake up with a craving for an AB positive juice box!" He scolded you as if you were a child.
"I wasn't actually going to jump out, asshole! I just wanted you to slow the damn car down! And if you would've done it, instead of being a dick then we wouldn't be having this conversation!"
He mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out and you finally managed to stand straight again. "Are you okay?" He sighed.
"Are you?" You shrugged. "You haven't looked at me since we left the house, you won't talk to me, practically told me to shut the fuck up, and then you yell at me like I'm kid."
"I didn't mean to yell at you. I just didn't want you to get hurt." He frowned a bit.
"I'm fine. But I'm not getting back in that car." You spoke.
"What? Why?"
"Tell me what Bonnie said to you that has you so upset." You demanded, his heart pausing for only a moment as you stated into his soul.
"What?"
"I might be a little be slower at picking up on the clues but I'm not stupid. What did she say that has you so deathly terrified to even look at me?" You asked. "Did she put a spell on you or something-"
"No, it's nothing, y/n, just drop it and let's get back." He shook his head.
"If it was nothing then you wouldn't mind telling me."
"It's none of your business."
"Seeing as your my boyfriend and she's my family, in some weird way, whatever beef you two have is my business."
"Leave it alone."
"No" You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest even though it hurt a bit.
He wanted to yell, but he knees you still wouldn't give up. He didn't understand how you could be so annoyingly persistent still after he's shot you down so many times. It was like you knew you were getting under his skin yet you kept digging. Purposely trying to draw out some reaction just for your own amusement.
"Why don't you give up?" He groaned. "Why do you even care? Why can you stand there and look at me like that with no guilt at all?!" His foot colliding with the car tire. He hated how much every fiber of his being was pushing him to do the right thing for once. "How can you stand there knowing everything I've done and still sleep in a bed with me? Do you not care?" He wanted to stop but nothing was letting him.
"What're talking about?"
"I killed people! My own family, y/n! I hurt Bonnie! I hurt Damon! I hurt Elena, and then just because I thought you were pretty I hurt you too! And still, you refuse to see any of my faults in actions that I take pride in!" He yelled finally. It didn't phase you. You encourage him to let any emotions he was feeling out all the time. He was angry right now, and you were fine just seeing how angry he really was.
"You're not that person anymore, that's why. I trust you."
"Well you shouldn't." He shook his head. "I will always be that person!"
"You may feel like that person but your not!" You defend him against himself. "You've made a lot of progress, you know that. And I could sit here and dwell on the shit you've done in the past but if I did that to everyone, I'd have no one." You sighed, not understanding why he was bringing any of this up. What did Bonnie say to him?
"I left Bonnie in a prison world to die!"
"And you helped me get her back!"
"I tortured your best friend!"
"You wouldn't be the first-"
"Stop doing that!"
"What?"
"Making excuses for me! There are none! I'm a bad person, y/n! You aren't, this whole 'fix me' doll relationship isn't going to last because of that! Because you deserve better than me! And if I let this go any further, then that means I haven't changed. I'm not better than I was, I've just had you to keep me from making any stupid decisions-"
"Kai stop-"
"-and one day you're going to realize that this was all a mistake. That maybe there isn't something that can be redeemed in my cold unloveable heart. And when that day comes, I'd rather not wake up and see the pure and utter hatred you've developed for me just like the rest of the people in my life."
You felt your lungs stop filling with air. It was hard to get any in, you were just breathless. How were you suppose to breathe after that? Now you had a decent idea of what that conversation he had with Bonnie was.
"No. You don't get to do that, you can't push me away. I'm not here because your a chore Kai, I care about you, and I want to be with you-"
"Do you seriously have no respect for yourself?!"
"Do you?!"
"No! Because all my respect goes to you! Everything I have goes to you! And because I respect you, and because you are literally the only thing on earth that I actually truly care about I have to do this-"
"No you don't-"
"I'm br-"
"No your not!" You groaned, covering you ears as if that would effect the outcome of this situation.
"Stop being so stubborn."
"Kiss me."
"No,"
"Just do it, Kai! Kiss me, and we can make up and forget this whole conversation!"
"How can you seriously fucking stand there and act like I'm not going to ruin your life. I murdered my own siblings in cold blood. And I'd do it again, y/n. I don't feel bad, I never felt bad. I've done so many bad things and your standing here looking at me like I'm a fucking Saint who deserves the happiness you give!"
You remained silent.
"Is that what you want? To see how bad I can be? To wait for the day where you can see Malachi Parker in action? Be there when he finally breaks?! Again!" He scoffed and you shook your head, but no word escaped. "You know what" his eyes set on you, desperate to make you see what everyone else sees when they look at him. "Maybe i can get to your head, if I let you in mine." He spoke walking to you, hands on your temples before you could even move.
You tried to break from him hold be you weren't nearly as strong as he was. He was mumbling something under his breath and soon your whole body became numb. Your mouth feel open as you let out groans of pain as bloody images fill your head, and guilt and remorse and hurt filled your heart. Screams and cries ringing in your mind, but none you've ever heard before. People you've never seen crying, and struggling to run from you. Only it wasn't you they were running from. It was Kai.
His memories flooded your brain all at the same time. You had no idea had to process everything you were seeing. All the pain in your chest amplifying somehow with a deeper emotional pain. But most of that wasn't yours either. It was his too. Loneliness and Exhaustion. Hate and Longing. It was overwhelming along with the pictures and sounds running amok in your head. Soon pictures of Bonnie had flashed through your mind, and Jo, and Damon. Blood, and more blood, nothing wasn't covered in blood, and with every passing second the pain in your chest worsened. Cries of his name, and blood curdling screams filling your head, some of which belonged to you. That was when you felt the worse pain. Hearing your own screams caused a panic, and seeing your own body covered in blood, watching your body fall just earlier as your head collided with the end table. Sheer panic and anguish for some reason. But the last image to intrude your thoughts seemed like a not so distant memory of his. One of you. Even if your head wasn't being taken over you wouldn't have remembered because in this moment he wasn't with you. He was sitting across the grill watching you dunked your fries into a strawberry milkshake with a huge smile on your face in front of your friends. You seemed happy, and it was like you were witnessing someone come back to life. First grief hit you hard, then relief and joy, and then reality set in and it was like you realized that it was all just dream and that person was still dead and never coming back and you were never going to be happy again.
He tore his hands away from you, allow you to steal in some oxygen and you went dizzy, using the car for support so you wouldn't collapse on the ground. Your chest heaving as you tried to reel in your mind what you just saw, what you felt, what you heard. All of his memories. All of the bad things he's ever done, or things he would consider to be bad. But in his mind, it was only reason that you would probably be more inclined to leave him for.
Through every memories you were overwhelmed with emotions. Whatever you could feel you felt. You didn't know which emotions were yours or his. You couldn't separate the feelings. But in some weird way you could tell that the pain and anguish churning in your gut was his. You didn't know his family well enough to have regrets, or remorse... that was all him. All the fronts he put up... all those emotions exposed everything.
"Get in the car." He spoke softly, helping you off the car so he could open the door. "You don't need to say anything, I'm taking you home and then I'll be gone." He spoke as if he knew that you wanted to be nowhere near him.
Instead, you just wanted to give him a hug. That gut wrenching pain he felt still lingering within your body. Tears streaming down your cheeks but not because of what you saw, but how he felt. Every one of your friends have done things of equal evil status. Judging him for things he obviously did regret and feel everyday wouldn't be fair to him. And whether you felt like that because you wanted to be fair or because you were in love with him was a mystery to even you.
You didn't speak, you just sat in the car staring ahead of you. Trying to determine how you really truly felt. Why was him seeing you so bad that he felt he needed to include that memory in his mind torture. You barely felt time move as he flew down the road at the same speed as before. When he parked in front of the apartment the two of you shared, he decided he would just stay out and drive all night. He didn't know where to go. He knew you probably wouldn't want him around. You stared blankly at the red bricked building with the dim lights hanging from the walls.
"Y/N." He spoke softly, not wanting to look at the tears running down your cheeks.
"Kai." You returned, voice soft and brittle unaware of how vulnerable you sounded to him. "Why do you consider meeting me a bad thing?" You asked, not a single other word coming to mind.
"I don't regret meeting you. I regret putting you in this position in the first place. And if I didn't insert myself into your life then-"
"Then you wouldn't be breaking up with me on the side of the road. Leaving me alone to spend the rest of my life wondering what I did wrong to push you away. To wonder why my love wasn't good enough reassurance-" you rambled not sure why everything was coming out of your lips.
"then you wouldn't be crying right now. Then you could've avoided all of this." He sighed in response. He hated when you cried, if it was anyone else it would've been annoying. Your tears always were the one thing that could truly break him into pieces. "When I met you... when I met you, I was so sure that you were just going to ignore me or hate my guts. I fucking left your friend in a prison world to die, y/n. I tortured you, yet you still see me as someone who's able to be redeemed. You SAW what I did, and your still defending me!" His own tears starting to pool. "I d-don't want you to hate me... and I don't want to do this... but I do want to be happy and I don't think you could ever really do that until I'm out of your life." You silently shook your head as you tried not to let your own tears keep falling. Your heart clenching in your chest, breathing getting harder to achieve.
You didn't speak.
You couldn't.
Pain hitting you harder as each second passed. You didn't know how to respond to be truthful so you just unbuckle your seat belt. You sniffled, waking the tears from you cheeks only to has fresh one replace the one you wiped away. Kai still refused to look at you, maybe you finally did she was shitty person her was. And how stupid you were for being with him. You opened the door, getting out quickly hoping he follow you but he didn't. You were still a bit dizzy from him flooding his memories through your head. You're steps were slow and wobbly and you were bound to fall in seconds but you just kept moving. To any who didn't know what you've just been through, you were just so drunk sorority girl trying to make it to the door.
Kai watched you struggled for a second, knowing you could hold your own, but he didn't want you to. He got out of the car, not even caring about locking it behind himself. His feet carried the rest him over to you. Almost as if his body was acting on instinct to help you. His arm wrapped around you, your sweet scent immediately wafting into his nose causing a tear to slip down his cheek. He ignored it, helping you, and you just let him. You didn't feel like fighting. You just wanted his touch on your skin, so you allowed him to help you.
Many thoughts flooded your head. He was as bad as everyone said he was. But you he'd never hurt you, in any way. He wouldn't hurt anyone else because that would hurt you. He was good because he wanted to be, but only for you. No one else has ever really given him good enough reason to be good. You knew he wasn't the same person that he was, and tonight just cleared it all up. It didn't stop you from loving him. It just gave you all the more reason to. You've seen your best friends do worst than him, who were you to cash him out for something he's going to feel his entire life?
You didn't speak the entire way to your front door. He unlocked the door for you, hoping you would just be able to walk and get some rest on the couch or something.
You had other plans.
You stood straight on your own, looking back to the brown haired siphon who realized he was just fooled into a trap. Your hands reached for his, taking his hand in yours quickly before he could walk away.
"Y/n, please, it's easier this way just let me go-"
"You showed me your worst moment so I want to show you my best." You spoke. Eyes dead set on his, hands gripping each other's, neither one of you wanting to let each other go. "Please." You let out a small breath.
"This is going to make it a lot harder-"
"That's the point, Malachi." You sniffle, holding in a tiny laugh.
"Okay." He whispered, preparing himself for the rush of emotions and memories flooding through his head like he did to you. You pulled your hands from his, placing them on each of his temple before beginning the spell.
It wasn't long before he felt your presence in his mind, his on thoughts being taken over with your own thoughts. At first it was a horrible feeling watching every time you were happy, knowing he was never going to be able to see that from you again. Not if he kept his promise. He wouldn't to push you away, his chest light and full with joy and a love so over it was almost crushing. He watched as memories of times you spent with him. From your first date, to that one joke he cracked the made you laugh when he first kidnapped you just to torture you for practice. He watched as he teased you, to the first time the two of you had sex, to the first I love yous, and he felt how warm inside it made you at the fact that he never over used the words. You knew he loved you even when he didn't physically say those words. You felt his love every time you were around him, and that was enough for you.
   He felt a soft smile forming on his lips but he could tell if it was from your happiness or knowing how much he really meant to you. Memories of late night cries, and arguments ending in angry sex, and sneaking out of classes, and talking trash about your friends even though you would never said something too horrible about them.
  You liked who you were with him. You loved who you were. And he felt all of that, he felt how much love you held for him, how much pain you were in to think about him leaving. And eventually that strong happy, lovely, calm feeling was stripped away from him, leaving him empty for a moment before he felt you hands against his cheeks.
  You were holding his face, staring straight into his eyes, both of you almost to the point of sobs. You were praying to god that you're plan worked. The hell were you going to do if it didn't?
  "Don't leave me, Kai."
"Y/N-"
   "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, Kai. Let me love you, please." You pleaded, bodies moving closer together without each other even realizing. It was natural for you to be close with him, you never questioned it.
  He didn't want to say no. But he owed it to you to say no.
"You saw what I did-"
"And you saw how much I love you-"
  "You watched in first person how I killed four of my siblings-"
  "And you watched from my point of view how badly I fell in love with you."
  You just wanted to kiss and make up. You would fall apart if he left you alone. Especially if he was doing it for your own 'happiness' because that meant he thought you weren't happy with him. It was upsetting and slightly insulting, because you were the happiest you've ever been with him.
  "I just want to do the right thing, baby." He whimpered quietly, you're heart nearly breaking in a million pieces. His tearing streaming quickly, mentally slapping himself for being so weak for you.
  "Then stay... stay and make me the happiest person in the entire world. We could graduate together and get a small house in the suburbs, or- or we could leave. Right now. Travel all across the world, experiencing so many different things together." You offered meaning every word.
  At some point in the silence that seemed to last for forever, one of you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't care to pay attention which one of you, but your lips connected, smooshing your faces together to be as close as possible. Tears mixing on each other's cheeks, his hands down on your waist pulling you closer into him as you both made you're way inside your shared home.
  He used his foot to kick the door closed, being careful to touch you oh so gently. You were a fragile peace of glass to him, the most beautiful sculpture who had no business being with him. He did nothing to deserve you, yet you felt he deserved you more than anyone in the world. You wasted so many years on him tonight, and for some reason you didn't care anymore. He was here, he was on you, his hands, his lips, your minds in sync for each and every single one of your next moves.
   Clothes slowly being tossed the the floor as you both backed each other to your bedroom through the dark apartment. By the time you reached the bed the only thing you had left were you bra and underwear, along with his shirt and boxers. Neither of you had even bothered to pull apart for a single breath. You allowed him to gently lower you on the poorly made bed.
   "Mmh, w-wait-" he mumbled against your lips. Youre legs parting for him to slip between which he did without thinking. "This is wrong-"
  "No, it's not?" You spoke in confusion. "I love you, Kai. I don't care what Bonnie said, because she doesn't know what this feels like." You shake your head.
  "Find someone else to ruin and let her go" Kai quoted, your grip on him tightening. "I don't want to-"
  "Maybe I want you to ruin me. To fuck up my life. To fuck up my morals just because I love you. I want that, Kai. I want every bit of it. I want this love that consumes me from the inside out, and I want to be able to go against everything I believe for you. I. Love. You." His hands traveling down your waist, as you let out a sigh.
  "I love you." He mumbled. "I love you so fucking much." His lips came down on your collarbone, fingers slipping under you panties waistbands before snapping his fingers to get rid of them. You felt the cold air against your slick heat, the warmth from his own body radiating into yours. His hips grinding down into your, his hardon pressing into you causing a light whimpering as you felt the butterflies raging into the pair of your stomach.
"I just wanna be with you, baby." You let out a soft moan, urging him on as he nips and sucked red marks onto your skin.
You used your own magic to undo the threads of his plain blue shirt as you dragged your hand down his back. The fabric slipping down his arms which he didn't mind. He was too focus on your warm skin under his tongue. His teeth grazing across your skin, coming closed with a tiny pinch every time. Your chest heaving into his from the closeness, and heat of it all. 
   "Tell me to stop” he mumbled against your skin, hips grinding into your heat as you let out needy moans.
“I need you, Kai, please.” Your lip caught in between your teeth, as the cloth of his underwear separating the two of you disappeared. “I want you so bad.” You whined, fingers digging into the soft warm skin on his back.
You felt his hard on slipping between your slick folds as he rocked his hips back and forth. He wanted to feel you, he wanted you to feel him. He never wanted to leave your side, or go a moment without feeling your warmth. He loved you with every fiber of his being, and there was no possible way he could truly explain that to you.
“Please-” you pleaded before he slowly pushed himself into you. Your mouth hung open as his length filled you to the brim, the tip of his cock hitting that hot spongy spot in your cunt so well you could help but moan. He always did fill you up perfectly, almost as if he was made for you or vice versa. “Oh my god.” You whined, hips grinding into his as his hips set a steady pace.
Your legs resting around his waist, as you let out small breathy moans. He was fucking into you hard, but it still felt amazing. He wanted to take his time with you and you felt it. Your body tingling, mind focused solely on him and everywhere your skin touched his. You felt his lips connected with you neck, continuing to suck soft bruised on the skin, placing a soft kiss after each one whispering a single ‘I love you’ each time. His hands left your waist, traveling up your beautiful naked body, taking all the warmth he could, until he traced your hands to his back. He pulled the off, even though he enjoying the sting of your nails digging into his skin, pinning your hands down above you head. His hands flat onto of yours, fingers intertwining as his lips found yours again, your kisses sloppy and slow. The sound of skin on skin filling the room as his pace quickened earning louder breathier moans from your pretty little mouth.
You felt a bubbling heat in the pit of your stomach signaling you were close to your high. Eyes struggling to sty open, as your boyfriend fucked into you so lovingly. It became harder to do anything other than focus on the feeling of him hitting so deep into you he’s almost hit your cervix. The kisses became harder to return and nothing but the sound of you filled the room. He watched in complete awe as you as you slowly began to fall apart. You were the most beautiful creatures he’s ever laid his eyes on, and he had you here underneath him on your way to this euphoric high that he him caused. His name coming out of your mouth in quiet moans and pleads and warning of you about to explode all over his dick. You were all he’s ever wanted out of life, and now he had you and there was no one and nothing that would take you away from him except for death itself.
You were his and that was final.
“Open your eyes baby, look at me.” He groaned as he felt your cunt convulsing around him so tightly.
You struggled with the actions, your eyes focusing on his eyes as you cried out in pleasure. “I’m so close, Kai, fuck, I’m going to cum.” You whined and he nodded watching as your breathing got heavier.
“Cum for me, baby, cum all over me.” He urged you on, feeling his own high approaching.
You felt something inside you explode, a loud moan his name escaping your lips, all your juices spilling onto his hard cock a he continued fucking you through your high. You body jolting and shaking around him, as he went faster, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you realizing you weren’t done yet.
“So close.” He mumbled, hands squeezing your so tightly you felt as if they were going to break. You ignored the pain of having your hard crush and just let out absorber moan from another orgasm building quickly.
“M’gonna c-cum again!” You warned, strained voice loud and needy.
“Me too baby” Kai moaned back, watching your eyes squeeze shut again taking in the way your body shook around him. “Let go y/n, I know you want to.” He spoke out of breath.
You felt his thrust getting sloppily, but he tried keeping up the pace. His own body stiffening as his cock twitch in you as you clenched around him again. Both of your falling apart with loud moans, and whimpering of each other names, lips coming together again as he spilt every last bit of his hot cum into your beautifully worn out cunt.
Neither of you spoke any words. Just your reveled in each other’s tongues, allowed you naked bodies to somehow merge into one. You felt a sudden tiredness take over you as it did the same to him.
“I don’t want to let you go.” He whispered into your lips.
“Then don’t. Let’s stay this way forever.” You hummed, squeezing his hands in yours.
“Deal.”
254 notes · View notes
cherryblossomtease · 3 years
Text
Chapter 15
18+ only
warnings and summary - Masterlist
Tumblr media
Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜
Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage
Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!
~
Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.
You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.
Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.
And what had you been dreaming about anyway?
A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.
There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….
You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.
Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.
It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.
Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.
Your eyes open with a start.
Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.
But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.
There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.
Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.
You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.
Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.
Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.
Dreams are so strange…
Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.
“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”
Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.
“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.
“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.
Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”
“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.
Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?
You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.
The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.
The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.
Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.
It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.
Cheers.
You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.
Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.
When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.
You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.
A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.
You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.
So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.
He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.
“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.
“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.
“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”
“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.
“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.
You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.
“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.
You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.
“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.
“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.
“He won’t know!”
You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.
“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”
You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.
“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”
You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.
“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.
Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.
“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?
There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”
He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.
“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.
Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.
This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.
“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.
When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.
He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.
“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.
“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.
You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.
The first strike makes you cry out.
The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.
“One.”
Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.
Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.
“Two.”
You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.
You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.
Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.
The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.
“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.
There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.
“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.
The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”
You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.
When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.
Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.
Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.
He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.
You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.
“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”
“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.
He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”
“No.”
“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”
You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.
“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”
You look at Bucky. He looks at you.
“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.
Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.
*
“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”
You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”
He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.
Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”
Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.
“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”
Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.
Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.
You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.
Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.
He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.
You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.
The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.
“Begin.”
Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.
First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.
He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.
The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…
It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.
“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”
You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.
“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”
Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.
You smile and reach for him again.
*
“Please” He begs breathless.
“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.
He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.
Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.
He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.
“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.
“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.
“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.
Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.
When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”
“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”
“Thank you.” Bucky manages.
You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.
“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.
“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.
“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.
Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”
Bucky sighs dropping his head.
“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.
Bucky won’t look.
“Answer me.”
“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.
You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”
“What?”
“How quickly?”
You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.
“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.
Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”
“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.
Oh Bucky…
“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.
You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.
“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.
Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.
“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.
Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.
The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.
Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.
“James.”
“Yes.”
“Stop breaking the rules.”
“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.
Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.
“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.
“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.
“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”
“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”
Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.
He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.
When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.
Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.
“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,
“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.
Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.
“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”
“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.
“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.
“Yes.”
“Say it!”
“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.
“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.
Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.
“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.
He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.
By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.
Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”
Bucky nods but it’s weak.
Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.
“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”
He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.
“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.
“Good."
*
“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.
Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.
“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.
“What happened?” You ask him.
“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.
You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.
“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.
You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.
“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.
Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”
“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”
“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…
“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”
“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”
He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.
“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.
“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.
Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.
“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.
You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”
He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”
You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.
“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.
Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.
“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…
Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.
Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."
“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.
“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”
You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.
“Do you think you might ever love him?”
Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him
“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”
43 notes · View notes
heyitsyn · 4 years
Text
Manager!Seijoh Part 4
a/n: I LIVE FOR THESE MANAGER SEIJOH ASKS LIKE BLS TAKE OVER MY LIFE
(i originally planned to write the other schools for the manager scenario like theyre already in my drafts with plans and partly written out but like seijoh is my TOP PRIORITY (sorry pls dont hate me) BC THEY ARE MY BOIS)
also, most of my ask box is all for a kyoken ending and kyoken fluff and aoba johsai fluff and im quaking bc this is spurring me to create more aoba johsai imagines and my love for the other schools is just like being overshadowed by our little plant babies :’)
for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!
anon request: Im the anon who mentioned the chaos about the dating and can I say I love it!!! 🙏🙏 i kinda have this hc for the boys that they fight whenever they go on bus rides, just because they want yn to sit next to them. But she usually sits next to the calmer members?? The reason the boys fight?? She may or may not have fallen asleep a few times, her head on kyo/iwa shoulder. 🥺🥺
LMAO THAT PART JUST REEKED CHAOTIC ENERGY AND SHE WOULD TOTALLY SIT NEXT TO THEM JUST TO SPITE THE OTHERS AND I LOVE THE IRONY LIKE THE MOST AGGRESSIVE LOOKING ARE THE SOFTEST AND CALMEST TOWARDS HER LIKE PLEASE KYOKEN AND IWA ARE JUST LITTLE SOFT BEANS AND DESERVE THE WORLD
(bruh im so soft for iwa and kyo like my best bois and i must write them out IMMEDIATELY bc theyre so uggghhhhhh!!!!!!!)
Tumblr media
MY TWO MEN IN ONE GIF GOD HAS BLESSED ME-
oh dear
bus rides,,,,, yep here we go
the team is usually peaceful and civil w each other (minus iwa literally beating oiks up but thats irrelevant information)
like they dont really have fights or have any arguments bc they meet up every saturday to talk about the week and if anybody had any concerns or anything they were mad about since it was like a family meeting
but boy oh boy
when you entered this family,,, arguments and misunderstandings happened once a week
‘no! y/n-chan said she was going to go shopping with me!’
‘um, she already agreed to go to to the arcade w me’
‘wait, she told me we were going to go visit that cafe!’
yes you agreed to do those things w them but you never assigned a date
your attention was something that these boys were always wanting since they only see you during club hours and practices
their jealousy gets really ugly sometimes and the two first years actually get all smug about it 
‘hm, y/n, we still up for studying later?’
you ruffled his hair and smiled up at him
‘yep! we need to set an alarm though or else i’d end up staying after 1 in the morning again’
‘great. cant wait’
kunimi rarely shows any emotion towards his senpais but they couldnt miss the smug smirk that made oikawa grip the volleyball and mattsun holding him back
god hes such a little shite
everyone knows that the first years have a upperhand than them bc of your same grade so the upperclassmen were much more sensitive to spending time with you outside of practice
and they liked to spend that time wisely
when the time for away games come, you weren’t that worried about it
i mean,, why would you when boarding the bus is going to be so early in the morning at like 4 in the morning and theyd be sleeping the whole time so you get peace and quiet
in fact, you were looking forward!
but nope!
jesus took the wheel and said no
instead, you were watching the team members shouting and yelling at each other at the asscrack of dawn
say sike rn
the 2 coaches were actually not there yet so they werent able to help you and whip the boys to order so here you were, bleary eyed and clearly still tired, sighing and rolling your eyes at the fight
‘SHE SITS WITH ME! IM TEAM CAPTAIN! I GET DIBS!’
‘NO! YOU DROOL ON HER AND MESS UP HER CLOTHES! YOU LIKE MAKKI-SENPAI MORE, RIGHT, Y/N-CHAN?!’
now you might be asking me, ‘author-chan, why are they fighting so hard for something as simple as a bus ride?’
well, my young grasshoppers, this is not just a simple bus ride
you are infamous in the team to be a sleeper
no matter what form of transportation, bus, car, any surface, you found yourself in dream land
yall i wish i was like that
the sleep paralysis demon beside my bed says otherwise
they freak out and fight over even a simple touch of affection from you, do you really think they wouldnt fight tooth and nail to being your pillow and freely watching your adorable sleeping face?
these men are fighting as if they were fighting something serious like a world war
lmao with how intensely theyre fighting, it practically is
but there were two players who actually didnt care either way since they only wanted you to be the most comfortable and they werent exactly the most squishiest members
in fact, they were basically all muscle and probably not the most comfortable
NOPE I BELIEVE THAT IWA IS IN FACT ONE OF THE MOST COMFIEST AND BEST PILLOWS IN THE ENTIRE HAIKYUU UNIVERSE
totally not my bias talking or anything
so it was no surprise when they didnt get themselves involved
iwa was already done w them and goes in the bus because mom deserves a nap
naturally, kyo follows the leader and boards the bus after him, leaving the others to fight it out in the school parking lot
you were happy that they were too distracted that they wouldnt notice you sneaking away into the bus and you were slightly disappointed that out of all the seats, kyo had to sit in the one-seater by the front
so you immediately went over to the other person, who was iwa-san, and he was just settling in, pulling out his teal blanket
you blinked at him when he caught you stare but he gently smiled before opening the blanket
‘i was never a fan of window seats anyways’
you happily bounced over to him and you placed your bag at the overhead compartment bc seijoh is bougee and can afford everything before you climbed over him to the seat next to the window
iwaizumi tried to make you as comfortable as he can so he kept the seat divider thing yanno what im talking about? between you
but his eyes widened when you casually pulled it up and snuggled closer to him
youve done this before so he opened his right arm for you to cuddle closer but he was still surprised 
meanwhile,,,
you just closed your eyes with a smile as you pulled the blanket to your chin and practically glomped yourself to iwa
ugh im so jealous of you!!!!!!!!!!
‘hmmmm, youre so warm iwa-san. youre like,,,,, jacob from twilight’
his eyebrow quirked and he smiled, wrapping his arm around you and tightly holding you close
‘oh? the werewolf?’
he felt your head nod
‘mhm. so warm, and strong, yet so gentle and soft’
by now, both your legs were already swung over his lap and head on his chest as you sat sideways
his fingers traced circles around your middle as his other hand was fiddling with your fingers
‘didnt he like mark a little girl?’
‘iwa-san dont talk about that!’
his laugh grumbled his chest and you giggled, trying to become even closer towards his naturally warm chest and inhale his scent
lavender mixed with peppermint
it was such an odd combination from the people you knew and you were immediately drawn to it
thats why you usually wore his jacket rather than your own
he always gets confused as to where it is but you steal it and watch him look for it
you didnt hear that from me though
it didnt take a long time for you to fall asleep and by the time the 2 coaches finally arrived and yelled at the players, they were already late
‘oikawa, i thought youd handle this properly!’
oiks whimpered from the coach’s scolding but apologized then pushed everyone in
the sight in front of them made them both boil in jealousy and squeal in uwus
you, the softest and sweetest and kindest little flower human being, being cuddled up to iwaizumi, the brute and bara arms and the ultra macho strong man, who had his head on top of you
KYAAAAAAAA
even though they knew you were a heavy sleeper and iwa slept like a rock, they still quieted down and silently walked over to their seats, hissing and shushing at anyone who even made the slightest bit of noise
rustle of the bags?
SSSSHHHHHH
seat creaking as they sit down?
SSSHHHHHHHH
they only let this slide bc your sleeping face was just so cute and they didnt have the heart to wake you up
and also face the wrath of titan iwa and be thrown into the atlantic ocean like oikawa did one time
when you finally arrived at the stadium, they waited for a rough 10 minutes just to figure out how to wake you up
they didnt want to wake up iwa first and have him yell at them but they didnt want to wake you up first either
but kyo didnt understand the dilemma and instead just goes to the back where yall were at and he goes to the seat behind you so he could reach you easily and tickles your cheek
the team is just like 👁️👄👁️
your nose scrunches at this tingling sensation until it continues so you open your eyes and finds kyo just smiling down at you
oiks is literally shaking bc he could see the smallest smile on kyo’s face
‘wake up’
with his gruff voice, it sounded like he was ordering you around but you knew he couldnt help it and blinked tiredly at him, giving him a smile of your own
‘hm, hi kyo-san’
you winced at the sudden appearance of the sunlight and that made you fully wake up before flinched at the eyes of the other players
‘hello, everyone’
you said slowly and you sat up, noticing iwa still sleeping
oiks held his breath bc hes been friends w iwa since he was still a baby and he knows that its like waking up a sleeping dragon
‘wait y/n-chan-’
but you didnt listen and poked his nose
‘iwa-san? iwa-san, we’re here’
you cooed and the poking made his eyes flutter open and with his head still tilted to the side, he swore he saw an angel by the way the sunlight hit the back of your head giving you a smiling angel effect
hm, i could get used to seeing this when i wake up
you grinned and when he finally stretched, you sat up stright, waiting for iwa to get up so you could slide out
but kyo was an impatient little bean and just hoisted you out of there and towards him behind the seat
‘come on. i got your bag’
he mumbled and you nodded, letting him hold your hand
lmao wait i forgot the time this is set
this is set during the 2nd inter-high okay? okay
oiks was still complaining at kyo and iwa hogging you but you didnt listen and continued walking towards the entrance, glancing around at the other teams
as usual, oiks and iwa were walking to the front bc yanno, captain and vice-captain, while you and kyo walked at the back, mainly bc you didnt want any player to stray off like kindaichi did last time and look for him for hours
kyo gripped your hand and you turned your head to look at him to see his eyes glaring at anything
you chuckled which made him look down at you, the glare slowly disappearing
‘hm, kyo-san, you should really invest in contacts. it doesnt matter if wearing glasses makes you feel like a nerd bc you still need it to see’
he scrunched his nose when you scolded him and he was about to retort when him and the team caught the whisperings of the nearby teams
‘oh my god, seijoh and the beautiful manager’
‘how old is she? i hope shes at least a second year’
‘ngh id tap that’
IM BLEEHHHHH
‘is he her boyfriend? if so, the competition isnt that hard then’
kyo growled and was about to lunge at the yellow jacketed boy but you held him back, also worriedly looking at your boys
‘seijoh, down’
you ordered and they shrunk back, opting to just glaring heatedly at the other teams
you could still feel kyo shaking at rage to them sexualizing you but your hands squeezing him and the other hand rubbing his arm helped him control it
‘dont make a scene, kyo-san. its your first competition since your suspension, right? and you love volleyball so please keep it in. i can protect myself’
you whispered but he let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and continuing to glare at everyone as if he was asserting dominance
‘if they touch you-’
‘ill kick them between the legs, i know. you told me already’
you teased and he hummed in agreement
when they played, they were at ease bc the two coaches were there and they were also protective of you like their own so they wouldnt have to worry about someone to go after you
however,,
as they were warming up for the second game, you had to quickly fill up their water bottles bc they were already tired and dehydrated so you needed to fill them up
and they were all busy and you didnt want to bother them and you were going to be quick anyways so you just took the case of bottles and ran to the nearby water fountain
you were hurriedly filling them up and at your last bottle, you were about to cap it when you felt a presence behind you
he stood close and his arms snaked around your waist but you hurriedly tightened the lid and whacked him at the head with the heavy bottle
you continuously hit him and kicked him between the legs before hitting him again
‘DONT TOUCH ME AGAIN!’
you shouted and iwa and kyo were watching from the end of the hallway, panting from running so fast since they heard your shouts
okay a little flashback,
kyo was watching you from his perepharal vision and when he went up to spike, he took his eyes off of you for ONE DAMN SECOND and you nyoomed out of there
when he didnt see you anywhere, he wildly looked around and this caught the attention of the vice-captain
‘oi! kyotani! whats wrong?’
‘y/n. where is she?’
they took off running and the team was just like what
then they heard shouts and kyo knew it was you
his mad dog senses
hehe get it
he as about to tackle the guy but he saw you beat him with a water bottle and eventually taking another bottle and kicking him and hitting him with the two waters
the player cowered and scrambled to get away bc wow this girl was psycho
um no sir, she was protecting herself from hormonal testosterone filled children like you
‘YEA GO RUNNING! COME TO ME AGAIN AND ILL BEAT YOU UP HARDER! DISGUSTING! TRASH! GROSS! SCUM!’
maybe it was because the last time you were touched without consent was when you got bullied but you were definitely fighting harder and more aggressive at protecting yourself
you turned around and the rage from your eyes disappeared when you saw the two boys there
‘hey iwa-san! kyo-san! sorry, i needed to fill the water bottles!’
you grinned and placed the bottles back to the case before lugging it up
my god their eyes were shining
yep, thats my girl
when their games were over for the day, they made their way to the exit where the bus was at and you and kyo stayed behind again
you caught the eye of the guy and his team and you and kyo glared at him, both wearing a sadistic smile
UGH YALL ARE COUPLE GOALS I SWEAR
kyo even went up to him and the team shrunk leaving the guy standing there in fear at the look on his face
‘listen, i dont like it when my baby girl gets touched by filthy shite like you. so do it again, and ill chop those damn fingers of yours, got it?’
lmao he’ll come for your ankles
the guy just nodded in fear while his team were cowering at the back
you chuckled and pulled kyo to go bc as much as you liked watching this, you needed to go to the bus to go home
‘cmon, kyo, i want to go. im getting a headache from the smell of garbage’
he shifted his gaze to you and sent you a soft smile
‘okay. lets go’
hah you thought it ends there?
kyo is a dramatic little shite so he made a show of grabbing your waist and kissing your temple before flashing them a finger
oiks was tapping his foot impatiently at the bus and when you and kyo emerged from the entrace, he was about to snatch you up but kyo stood in front of you
‘EH?! KYOKEN-CHAN, I WANT TO SIT WITH Y/N-CHAN!’
‘no’
he said and didnt say anything else as he pulled you to the bus and into a two seater where you sat at the window again and he sat on the outside
‘hah? you want to sit next to me, kyo-san?’
you teased but he flushed red, hurriedly hiding in your neck
you laughed and brought a hand up to caress his nape
‘mhm’
he mumbled and you pursed your lips to hide the squeal
‘youre so cute, kyo-san’
‘not cute’
‘very cute’
‘no’
‘AM I CUTE Y/N-CHAN?’
‘SHUT UP SHITTYKAWA’
kyoken got away from your neck and went to hit the captain 
oikawa screamed
a/n: my first week of school was so weird bc we only have like 2 days and the other days are just free days bc we havent really done anything except talk about our classes but im just hating this system like ugh i actually want to go to school bc ya girl is going to a tech school and this 2-day a week is not the vibe
914 notes · View notes
justasparkwritings · 3 years
Text
Troll In Love: Part 1
Tumblr media
Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader
Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU
Rating: PG-17
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: Swearing
Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down? 
Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week. 
This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of. 
Banner by me. 
Monday: Pitch Meeting
           “Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.
          Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.
          Today, Claire decided, that would change.  She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.
          “We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.
           “I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.
           “Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”
           “Who are those people?”
           “Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”
           “What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.
           “My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”
           “Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”
           “I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.
           Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”
           “I just, I don’t think it’d be a –
           “Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.
           “Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.
           You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.
“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”
           “It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”
           “I do!” Claire chimed.
           “Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”
           “What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.
           “You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.
           “It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.
           “I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.
           Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.
          Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.
Tumblr media
Monday: Your Office
           “Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.
           “You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.
           “How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.
           “Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”
           Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.
           “I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”  
           “You can’t have one,”
           “Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”
           “I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.
           “Well, I need their handle,”
           “Fine,”
           “And the intern,” Claire was firm.
           You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”
           “Sure thing,” Alexis replied.
           “Thank you,”
           Claire rolled her eyes.
           “Jealous?” You questioned.
           “Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.
           “Great,”
           “I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.
           “Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.
           “If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”
           “Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.
           “Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.
           Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”
           “Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”
           “Okay,”
           “Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”
           “I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –
           “I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”
           “Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.
Tumblr media
Tuesday: Happy Hour
           “You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.
           “What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”
           “What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.
           “Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”
           Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”
           “You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”
           “Me?”
           “Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.
           “He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.
           “Potato, Tomato,”
           “You should talk-
           “Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.
           “Fine, fine.”
           “I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.
           “That’s a lie,”
           “Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.  
           “Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”
           “No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”
           “You should,” He suggested.
           “I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.
           “Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.
           “Bitchy?”
           “Your words, then she would like you,”
           “She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.
           “He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.
           “Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”
           “You said his name!” Hoseok argued.
           “He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”  
           Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”
           “If he’s not there,” You answered.
           “I can’t promise that,”
           “Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.
           Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.
           “Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.
           “I’ll think about it,” You resigned.
           “Great!”
           “I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.
           “I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.
           “At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.
           “Well-
           “You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”
           “I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.
           “That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”
           “You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-
           “Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.
           “Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.
           Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”
           “I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.
           “Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”
           “Because I love you,”
           “Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.
           “I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.
Tumblr media
Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office
           “Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.
           “You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.
           “Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.
           “So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.
           “Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.
           “And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.
           “Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.
           “Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.
           Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.
           “What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”
           “Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”
           “I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.
          Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.
           “Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”
          “What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.
          “In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.
           “No!”
           “Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.  
           “I would never,” You glowered.
           “You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.
          “I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”
          “Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.
          “Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”
          “July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.
          “I, I, no!”
          “October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”
          “He started it!”
          “Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.
          “I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.
          “Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.
          “Know what?”
          “About your vendetta,”
          “It’s not a vendetta!”
          “Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.
          “I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.
          “His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-
          “You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.
          “Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-
          “You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”
          “Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.
          “I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.
          “I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”
          You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.
          “You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.
          “We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.
          “You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.
          “It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.
          “This is entirely personal.”
          “Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.
          “No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.  
          “Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”
          “I take it back. I revoke my consent!”
          “It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”
          “Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.
          “You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.
          “Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.
          “Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.
          “You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.  
          “You agreed to-
          “No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.
          It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.
          “I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”
          Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.
          “Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.
          As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.
          “Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.
          “She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.
          “Did you?”
          “No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.
          “Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.
          “No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-
          “Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-
          “Until you what?”
          “Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.
          “She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”
          Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.
          “Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.
          “No, something weird is going on,”
          You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”
          “I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.
          “He makes me so-
“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.
          “I-
          “Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”
          “What if he-
          “Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.
          “Okay,”
          “I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.
          “Thank you,”
          “I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”
          “I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.
          “I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.
          Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.
          “To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.
          “I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.
          “Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.
          “You still live at the same place?”
          “No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”
          “You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.
          “What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.
          “I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”
          “I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.
          “Okay, see you soon, I guess,”
          “I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.  
Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2
103 notes · View notes
Text
Love Letters
I have no idea how this turned out, I opened a word doc, blacked out and ended up with this. 
Master List
~~ “I would write you poems until my hands worked no more. Would play you music until my fingers bled. Shakespeare himself would have to rise from his tomb to stop me writing you sonnets. No words will ever convey the love which spills from my heart, but I will try to do so every day.” Johnny reads the letter loud, a smile on his face as he looks over at you. You’re certain your face conveys the sheer horror you’re feeling, and judging from the laughter that bubbles from him, it does. You’re frozen in the doorway of your own dorm room, staring at the man lounging in your desk chair, the man who’d just found your second best kept secret. “So, how much does it cost to get one of these letters?” 
“What are you doing?” His eyebrow hikes up at your question, and he gestures to the stacks of envelopes and the typewriter sitting on your desk. 
“You’re the one writing all the love notes around campus right? What if I want to send one to someone?” You blink at him a few times, still in shock, but step into the room properly and shut the door. 
“How’d you find out about this? Who told you?” You question, dropping your backpack on the floor and crossing your arms over your chest. He mimics your pose, though still in your chair. 
“Who said anyone told me?” He challenges, “I figured it out.” 
“Bullshit. I’ve been doing this for almost two years and no one’s been the wiser. The only people that know are my customers, so who told you?” He’s silent for a moment, not pretending not to size you up. You can feel your heartbeat in your chest, and part of you wants to celebrate having your crush alone in your dorm room, but the other part of you remembers he’s here for a love letter, not you. 
“Are you going to stop writing for them if I tell you?”
“Maybe, or maybe I’ll just revoke their long term customer pricing. Who was it?”
“Yuta.” Your eyes roll automatically at the name, you should have known it was him. 
“Of course it was. Did he refer you, or did he just tell you?” Johnny shrugs, clearly loving how annoyed you’re getting. 
“Maybe both. You haven’t answered my question.” 
“One time letters to someone are 25, self letters are 35. If you’re wanting a long term contract it depends on the frequency of the letters, contents and subject.” You finally relent, trying not to let the disappointment cloud your voice. 
“What’s the most expensive contract you have?” You motion for him to get out of your chair, which he shockingly does, so you can grab your clientele binder and find your contract sheets. He flops down on your bed while you work, watching you flick through the almost shockingly thick binder. 
“Someone pays me 75 dollars every other month to write three page long letters to send to his girlfriend overseas.” You tell him, pulling out a contract, “This contract is legal, by the way, I had a friend of mine in law school draft it. I only write the letters, I don’t deliver them and I am not responsible for the reaction of the recipient. You can’t get me in legal trouble if things backfire, nor can you demand a refund. You cannot ask for personal information about other clients, and no I won’t tell you if you’re giving a letter to someone who is already receiving letters. Any questions?” You finally look up from your contract, locking eyes with the boy sitting on your bed. 
“Would you handwrite a letter for me, or is it typewriter only?”
“I try not to handwrite letters, just in case someone might recognize my handwriting.” He smiles again, and you have to look away, trying not to blush. God, how did you get so unlucky? When you had started writing these letters, it was because of your crush on Johnny. Your roommate freshman year had found a letter you’d never planned to send and asked if you would write one for her to give to the girl she liked. From there, your little business blossomed, and now you had upwards of 30 clients, all paying you to write about Johnny without knowing. 
“Do I have to tell you who my letter is for?” 
“Nope, all you have to tell me is whether you know them personally or not, and if there’s something about them you want me to talk about.” You drop your binder on the desk, turning to face him once more. “I’ll also need your contact info, phone number or email preferably. I take cash, venmo, and cashapp, you have to pay before your first letter, and if you make it a long term thing, then you pay upon receiving the letter.” He nods, his lower lip sticking out slightly. 
“OKay, lets do one letter for now, and depending on their reaction, we’ll see about sending more.” 
“No problem, just fill this out for me, and we’ll get started.” You pass him the contract and a clipboard to write on. “For the first letter, I always have my clients tell me about the person they’re wanting me to write about, that way if you meet face to face, the letters still sound like you.” 
“What’s your major again?” 
“Psychology, with an English Lit minor.” 
“Makes sense.” The two of you are quiet for a moment while he fills out the form, and you take the chance to package some letters, ironically, one was for Yuta, who was definitely getting a scolding when he came to pick it up. “Alright here.” You don’t look at him, only extend your hand for him to place it in. You can feel him watching you as you finish up your work, marking who still has to pay for your work. “So, have you ever written a letter for someone, like from you?”
“Yes and no.” You weren’t sure why you even answered. 
“What do you mean?” You sigh, putting your papers away so you can move the typewriter front and center. 
“Every letter I write is about the person I like, that’s how it started.” You explain, “Yeah, it sounds like I’m writing about someone else, but it’s always about him.” 
“Ever had to write one for him?” You can tell he’s actually interested in this, but you shake your head, not wanting to talk about it more. 
“Don’t worry about my love life, Johnny, lets work on yours.” You grab a notebook, spinning to face him, ready to take notes. “Tell me about your person.” 
If you told me you were Eros, I would believe you. From the moment I saw you, the arrow of love had pierced my heart and rendered it useless to all others. Were you a god, I would be your most devoted priest. My lips would sing your prayers and praises until there was no oxygen left at your altars. Your mind rivals that of Shakespeare and Einstein, and I wish on every star that one day I may be privy to your innermost thoughts. Your eyes hold the universe, and your hands: my heart. You fill my dreams, and soothe my nightmares. Had I an ounce more courage, I would say these words to your face, but in truth, no words could accurately depict the love I have for you. It bubbles from my heart, courses through my veins and clouds my mind. I would give you the world, the moon and all the stars in the sky if you only asked, but now I can only give you this letter and hope you will not think ill of me. Yours ever, Johnny
“Here, all done.” Johnny barely has the chance to knock on your door the following day before you’re shoving the lilac envelope in his hands. “It’s not super long, but it’s pretty expressive, if you want more just let me know, I hope they like it.” You don’t give him the chance to reply, instead just shut the door and try not to start crying instantly. Every word you had said was true, and he was about to give it to some rando. You wanted to cancel every other letter people had asked for, so tired of writing about a love you couldn’t have. A knock on your door makes you huff, just wanting to lay down for a while. “What?” You demand, swinging the door open to find Johnny still standing there. He holds the envelope out to you, his other hand deep in his pocket. 
“Here.” 
“Do you not like it? I can rewrite it.” You offer, hesitating to take it. No one had ever hated what you’d written, to say it was a bit of an ego crusher was an understatement. 
“No. No it’s amazing, its everything I wanted to say. You did an amazing job.” He extends his hand again, not looking you in the eye. “But its for you.” 
“What?” 
“When I learned it was you-” He huffs, “Look, I’ve had a thing for you since English 101. You’ve always been super smart and gorgeous, but I’ve been too scared to say anything cause you were always writing these sweet things, and I figured they’re for someone else, so I didn’t want to pressure you into something. But I might not get accepted into my Masters and I didn’t want to leave without saying-” 
“Johnny.” He stops speaking the second you say his name, his eyes snapping up to yours. Your face is warm, and you can feel your eyes watering. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“You.” The bewilderment on his face is almost funny. 
“Me?”
“Yes you. Every single letter I’ve ever written has been about you. Even this one. I wrote you a love letter only to have it be for me.” You can’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. 
“Wait, really?” He’s laughing a little as well. 
“Yes you idiot. I’ve been so scared Yuta had told you, I was even gonna go cry once you left.” You admit, wiping at the tears that were falling. 
“Oh no, don’t cry.” He pulls you close to his chest, his head resting on yours. “Let me take you for lunch. Then maybe you can tell me some of those sweet things you’re always writing about me.” You both laugh at this, pulling away from him. 
“Don’t think I’m going to let this ruin my business, Johnny Suh, I’ve still got to pay for my coffee habits.” 
“Only if I get to read the letters first.” 
“Deal.” 
“And I get to see your client list.” 
“Not a chance.” 
35 notes · View notes
mf-despair-queen · 3 years
Text
Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong
Author: @mf-despair-queen
Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU
Word Count: 17,864
Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime. 
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this. 
Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy! 
Tumblr media
“You should have left while you could…”
“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”
A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 
“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”
You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.
“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 
“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”
“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls. 
With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered. 
He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry. 
Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”
“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”
He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”
A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”
He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”
You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”
“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”
“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”
“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.
“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”
“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”
You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”
“Oh?”
“You join me for said coffee?”
Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”
A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”
Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”
You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”
“I have time.”
A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.
“Well…”
The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item. 
And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily. 
You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy. 
Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction. 
“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”
He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.
It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.
Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.
To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime. 
His response didn’t take long.
From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again. 
From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.
From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.
Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily. 
When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.
From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.
Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response, 
To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.
He really was one of a kind.
~
Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.
Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.
But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.
Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date. 
At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.
Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist. 
“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”
“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”
“Lead the way.”
He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.
You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.
“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”
The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head. 
He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.
“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door. 
Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.
“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.
“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly. 
“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”
“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”
“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”
You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.
Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”
The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.
You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content. 
In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. 
You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.
You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest. 
Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”
“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”
“I should probably go inside-”
He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible. 
The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.
“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips. 
All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.
The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead. 
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”
“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.
“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”
“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away. 
You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.
Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.
“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.
“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”
“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.
“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”
“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place. 
~
One year. 
One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.
“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”
He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.
You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often. 
You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.
Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.
Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.
Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him. 
Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it. 
Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.
Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.
Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.
You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.
As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.
What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.
The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together. 
You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads. 
Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.
“We should get out of here…”
That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.
He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom. 
The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.
Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.
The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words. 
“May I?” 
You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head. 
His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue. 
His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much. 
Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?
You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.
Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.
Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.
Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had. 
“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.
“Need a hand?”
“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”
The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”
You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.
Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.
“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”
You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.
When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to. 
He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.
Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard. 
You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair. 
Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.
His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his. 
You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely. 
Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.
He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.
His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies. 
Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly. 
Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.
He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.
“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.
“Tae…”
“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”
“I love you…”
He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close. 
You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.
“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”
“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man. 
“What?”
“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”
The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding. 
“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”
“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”
“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.
“Yeah. I always will…”
~
You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left. 
When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:
A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.
You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh. 
“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”
He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.
Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.
The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run. 
The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed. 
“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”
You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.
Until you heard a gunshot. 
You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise. 
“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”
Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response. 
“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”
“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”
The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.
“You should have known I would find out.”
Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.
“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”
Dohyeon was quiet.
“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now. 
“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly. 
“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”
You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.
“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”
“Yes…”
“I say am I clear?!”
“Yes sir!”
“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”
Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter. 
“Pleasure doing business as always.”
When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.
Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking.  The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.
Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”
You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”
“I saw you…”
“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”
You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”
“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.
“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”
He stayed silent.
“Taeyong, I want the truth.”
“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.
“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.
“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”
His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”
“I know…”
“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”
“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”
Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”
“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”
“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return. 
“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for. 
“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.” 
You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”
Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement. 
“I love you. So much…”
His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.
“I love you too…”
It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man. 
You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.
He had your heart in his hand after all.
Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you. 
He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much. 
Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization. 
And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life. 
Now ame the hard part.
“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”
Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”
“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”
“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.
“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”
“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”
The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say. 
“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.
You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.
The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal. 
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”
“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”
“Jaehyun-”
“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”
“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”
“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”
“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.
“You’ll just have to,” you told him.
“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.
“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”
You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”
The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.
“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”
“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.
“But I’m cuter!”
“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”
“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.
“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”
“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.
“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”
Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.
“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.” 
You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.
“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”
“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.
Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”
You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”
“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.
You knew he wasn’t wrong. 
~
If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper. 
But no. 
Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love. 
Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.
Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.
And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive. 
There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.
In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted. 
Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you. 
He was cold, but you knew he meant well. 
When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day. 
“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.
“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”
“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.
“Babe-”
“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”
“I know, but-”
“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”
He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled. 
“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”
You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.
“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”
“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”
“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”
You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.
On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.
The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly. 
“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”
Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark. 
“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”
When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.
When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”
Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.
In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior. 
“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”
Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.
“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”
Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.
But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.
“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”
The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”
“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.
“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.
“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.
The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up. 
Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.
Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.
He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.
“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”
His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip. 
“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”
You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.
His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy. 
The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.  
“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”
“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”
“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”
He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”
In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly. 
“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.
“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”
The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall. 
“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made. 
“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”
“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”
Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra. 
The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment. 
“Yong, please.”
“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.
THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.
Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared. 
And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.
With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.
“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap. 
“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”
“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose. 
Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.
“Tae,” you moaned loudly. 
You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.
“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”
The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.
“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”
“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building. 
Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.
“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”
Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder. 
“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers. 
“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting. 
“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”
“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”
“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.
“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”
“Alright,” you let out. 
“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”
Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped. 
Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had. 
“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular. 
“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.
“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”
“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”
“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.
“Where is everyone else?”
“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”
Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.
“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”
The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone. 
When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.
“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks. 
“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”
“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.
“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”
Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”
“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”
“No,” you firmly said. 
“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”
“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”
“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.
Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”
“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious. 
“You should have left while you could…”
“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”
A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 
“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”
You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.
“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 
“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”
Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.
This was the end. 
Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.
“Who was that?” you asked quietly.
Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”
“Who’s that?”
“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”
“They came to our rescue?”
“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”
“Well, I’m glad then…”
Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“We’re both safe.”
“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”
“Alright…”
Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.
~
You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed. 
You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it. 
“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”
He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing  with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket. 
“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box. 
“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”
You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering. 
“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”
“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.
“Naturally.”
117 notes · View notes
xbladekitkat85 · 3 years
Text
Do You Remember Now?
Summary: It's Peter's birthday and everyone is planning on a surprise when he wakes up. Except there's a huge problem. Peter's gone missing.
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Descriptions of violence, swearing, ANGST, mentions of dealing with grief.
A/N: I haven't really written angst before so I don't know how hard it's going to hit. I did tear up at one part while typing so maybe it's a bit heavy???
Peter's disappearance happened when everyone least expected it. It was the morning of his birthday, and all the heroes of the universe were going to be there. It would have been the first reunion in over 5 years where everyone was available to come, Asgardians and Guardians as well. Everyone was going to sneak into Peter's room to wake him up with a collective shout of "SURPRISE!" and pop an unnecessary amount of party poppers all over the room.
Tony peeked inside first to make sure that Peter was still asleep before beckoning everyone inside. But he felt a cold draft flowing from the crack between the door and the doorframe that shouldn't have been possible due to the picture windows.
He entered the room to find the window cut open and various items belonging to Peter scattered on the floor. There was no sign of Peter himself and the excited feeling that Tony had all morning quickly twisted into something he had felt only when Pepper had been taken years ago by Killian.
It was the feeling of debilitating fear.
Tony felt a wave of nausea hit him as various scenarios all ran through his head, each with Peter hurt, scared, or possibly even dead.
Pepper was the first to notice Tony hadn't come to get everyone. He came out of Peter's room after a few minutes more of waiting. But he wasn't acting like the excited father he was only moments before.
"Tony, what's wrong?" She asked, feeling anxiety building up with each second of silence.
Tony turned to look at everyone with a haunted look in his eyes. Pepper recognized it as the same expression he had when he had returned from space after fighting Thanos. Something was horribly wrong, and it had to do with Peter.
"Tony, talk to me. What's happening." Pepper asked gently despite the worry she felt.
"Peter's not there." He whispered hoarsely and turned to look at her. "Pep, we can't lose him again."
Morgan, Carter and Harley had heard what Tony said and they all felt a sharp stab of fear and worry. Morgan felt tears burning in her eyes, and buried her face in Carter's shoulder for a moment to compose herself. Carter held her close and stroked her hair while Harley walked into Peter's room to see it for himself.
Harley looked around the entire space. He checked the closet, the hammock near the ceiling, and the bathroom adjacent to Peter's room to no avail.
"FRIDAY, show me the tower's security activity from 11pm last night up until dad opened Peter's door." Harley requested.
But to everyone's shock, there was no familiar response of, "Sure thing boss." from the speakers throughout the tower.
FRIDAY was out of commission. That meant that somebody had been able to shut down an AI made by Tony Stark, which is no easy feat. This meant someone skilled was behind it and most likely planned the kidnapping with extreme scrutiny.
Nothing about the situation was remotely close to how everyone thought this day was going to go.
"We need to get Friday back online ASAP." Morgan shakily said. "If we are able to access the security cameras, there's a chance we might be able to find a clue."
Carter glanced at Morgan and saw the pain and worry in her eyes, and gently took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her. She squeezed it back to acknowledge his presence.
"Morgan, Harley, and Carter, come with me to my lab. Nat, you reach out to any contacts who may know something. Carol, this is a long shot, but I want you to ask off world allies if they have any clues as well." Tony ordered. "Everyone else start looking around the tower for clues of any sort. If you see anything remotely suspicious, make a note of it."
*Time skip*
Nobody had been able to find a trace of a clue regarding Peter's whereabouts.
Not any of Tony's extensive connections had an idea. Natasha's contacts hadn't heard any chatter about a kidnapping or hostage. Carol came up empty from every person she had asked but that wasn't unexpected.
Morgan had been back to school and Carter was supportive whenever she needed reassurance. But after a month of no news, or leads, she was starting to lose the little hope she had left. Peter would promise her before every mission, that he would come home safe and sound. But this time he hadn't come home. She didn't even know where he had gone.
Harley became fixated on building tracking devices, scanners, homing beacons, anything that could help find his brother. Harley had promised to always help Peter if he was in a pinch, regardless of how annoying he could be sometimes.
Tony had shut himself in his lab to fix FRIDAY and go through everything he could think of that could offer some sort of sign, a clue, a word, literally anything to bring Peter back home. He had invented time travel to bring him back so why couldn't he do something as simple as finding a clue? Peter would probably point out an error in his work that would solve his problem but now that wasn't possible.
Pepper busied herself by concentrating on running Stark Industries. Whenever she got the chance, she would drag Tony and Harley out of their labs to eat meals with her. God knows those two would forget to eat if nobody reminded them that food and water was an essential part of living. Peter would usually take care of that but since his disappearance, she took up the job.
Everyone felt a piece of their family was missing. But nobody said his name out loud, even though everyone thought about him.
It just hurt too much to hear his name knowing that by now he was likely dead. That he was never coming home.
And time would continue to pass, as the pain of losing Peter would too.
Until one day, on a mission, everything changed.
*6 months after Peter's disappearance*
HYDRA had suddenly resurfaced with no warnings whatsoever.
They had set off Tony's alert system designed to warn of threats, and a group immediately suited up. Having HYDRA stirring up trouble was never a good sign, especially since they were supposed to be gone. But as the saying goes, "Cut one head off, two more take it's place."
The team that had gone to check out the threat consisted of the original 6 Avengers as well as Harley, Bucky, Kate, and Wanda. Upon arriving at the location that had set off the alarm, they noticed that another group of people were there as well. One person among them in particular stood out to the OG Avengers. Before anyone could make a move, all the Avengers were suddenly knocked down, and tied up so they couldn't move.
"Hey, I found these guys lurking around. Who are they?" An unfamiliar voice asked.
"Yo-Yo, you can let them go. We're friends. Well, at least most of us are, those three I haven't met. It's alright."
All the OG 6 Avengers felt a cold shock run through their bodies. That voice belonged to someone they thought was dead since the Battle of New York.
"Agent Coulson?" Tony asked in shock.
"It's former Director actually and yes, I'm alive." Coulson replied, as everyone was untied by Yo-Yo.
"There's no way." Natasha said as she stood up. "Fury would have said something sooner. And when were you Director of SHIELD?"
"I'm sorry, Nat, but he meant to keep it a secret from all of you. Me being resurrected." Coulson said with regret in his voice. "Said that if you knew, it would have distracted you from your goal."
"Steve, who is this guy?" Bucky asked in confusion.
Coulson's eyes widened in a very comical way when he noticed who had just spoken.
"Sergeant Barnes. It's an honor to meet you." He said, holding out a hand to shake.
Bucky took Coulson's hand to shake and noticed that his hand was not a real hand.
"Your hand... It's mechanical isn't it?" Bucky asked curiously.
"How much has happened with you since we last saw each other?" Steve asked.
"A lot. And we'll talk about it later after we take care of this HYDRA base. I assume that's why you're all here." Coulson said, gesturing to the other group.
"Yes, well, let's introduce the new members of our teams and then make a plan." Steve said.
Coulson informed his team of the change of plans. Everyone on Coulson's team met up for introductions.
"Daisy Johnson, aka Quake. She has the ability to manipulate natural vibrations as well as generate concussive blasts of vibrating air. Elena "Yo-Yo" Rodriguez. She is able to travel at superhuman speeds within the timeframe of a beat of her heart before she bounces back. Hence the nickname, Yo-Yo. Melinda May, expert martial artist, pilot and empath. Mack, Deke, and FitzSimmons are on the Bus right now. You'll meet them later."
Everyone on Tony's side acknowledged their names and took note of their abilities and powers.
"Ok, for the new faces on our side, we have Barnes, the Winter Soldier, who you already know, Wanda, she's got telekinesis and can read minds, Kate, she's Clint's protege, slash eventual replacement and Harley, my oldest kid, who built his own suit." Tony said, introducing the group.
Daisy leaned over to Yo-Yo.
"Tony Stark has kids?" She whispered.
"How the hell would I know?" She responded. "I'm not the former groupie member here."
Daisy glared half heartedly at her.
"I said it was one time!"
"Not my fault you got drunk and told me that story." She shot back.
"Hey, focus we're not here to argue." May interrupted. "We have a mission."
Everyone quickly formed a plan and they all entered the base.
Yo-Yo ran through the halls to assess the amount of security as well as any potentially dangerous weapons. When she was done, she gave the report to Coulson and Tony so they could split their team accordingly.
"May, Harley, Kate, Captain Rogers, Wanda, and I will be one group. Daisy, Yo-Yo, Nat, Clint, Sergeant Barnes, and Tony will be the other. " Coulson explained. "Dr. Banner will be here on comms just in case. I've synced the signal our comms travel on so we're on the same channel. We're going to be split up, so only call for help if necessary. We have about equal amounts of power on each side, so take advantage of every opportunity if need be. Let's go."
Everyone nodded and headed off with their respective groups to raid the base.
(A/N Tony's team will be written in bold and Coulson's team in regular text to avoid unnecessary writing)
Wanda lead the group through the hallways, with May taking out the first few guards easily. Coulson shot ICER bullets at the ones May couldn't focus on while Harley made sure every guard was unconscious. Cap and Kate ran ahead to scout out the next few corridors and the rest of the group quickly followed.
Daisy knocked down the first wave of guards and Yo-Yo tied all of them up while Nat, Clint, Tony and Bucky advanced deeper into the building. A group of guards wielding batons and handguns immediately appeared in their path, blocking the way. Clint shot arrows into the walls that released smoke to obscure the soldiers vision and aim. Tony took advantage of their disorientated state and used heat signature seeking taser blasts to knock them out.
Cap almost got a punch to the face while he rounded a corner but he leaned to the side, barley avoiding it. Kate quickly rushed in and used the man's momentum to flip him over her shoulder into the wall while Cap recovered and punched another soldier trying to attack Kate from behind.
"Thanks." She said, a bit out of breath.
"No problem. Incoming from both sides, get ready." He replied, standing nearly back to back with Kate.
"You got it, Cap." She said, readying her bow.
He threw his shield at the closest guard while Kate shot multiple electric arrows at the hallway in front of her, effectively creating a bolt of electricity that hit multiple targets. They quickly rotated in sync and they repeated the same attacks as before, with Cap taking out the last of the soldiers in his way and Kate knocking out hers.
Tony watched Yo-Yo as she sped forward to scout the next hallway. He couldn't help but think of Pietro Maximoff, and how similar their powers seemed to be. Of course, Yo-Yo bounced back while Pietro didn't. He just kept going forward and never looked back.
Before he could even blink she had returned to the group.
"There's about a dozen guards outside a set of reinforced double doors." She said. "They're guarding something important."
"That's why we're here though. HYDRA has some weapon or something they plan on using, right?" Daisy asked. "Why else would they have resurfaced?"
"It's never a good sign when there's that much security outside an already pretty secure door." Clint added.
"They couldn't have possibly made anything more dangerous than supersoldiers." Bucky muttered.
"I wouldn't put it past HYDRA to find a way to do it." Nat said. "We got to make a plan. We can't just charge in."
Coulson's group had reached the end of the last hallway on their side. There wasn't anything at all to take as evidence or to destroy.
"It can't just be a dead end." Coulson said in disbelief. "There's gotta be a secret door or something at least."
Harley snorted at his complaint.
"I mean that's would I would have done." Kate said thoughtfully. "There wasn't anything of importance on our side of the base. So it makes sense that there's something we're missing."
Cap walked forward and proceeded to rap his knuckles on the wall.
"Whatcha doing there Cap?" Harley joked. "Hoping the secret door will open if you politely knock?"
Cap had moved to the left wall and knocked on it as well.
"He's checking to see if any of the walls sound more hollow than the others." May interjected. "It's a smart idea. It could reveal a hidden room or passage that isn't visible to the naked eye."
Wanda turned to Harley with a raised brow.
"Hey, can't you scan through walls with your suit? That would make this go a lot faster." She asked sarcastically.
Harley froze and everyone turned to look at him.
"Yeah, that would have made this a lot easier." Coulson said wryly.
"I'll get on it." Harley said sheepishly.
He scanned all the walls around them and eventually started walking in another direction.
"This way. There's a room further this way that I can't see through with the scanner. It seems to be lined with lead, which means x-ray scanners won't do the job. Whatever we need to find must be there." He said.
Everyone quickly followed Harley's lead as he walked down the halls, eventually leading them to where the other group had gathered in front of heavy looking doors. The soldiers that had presumably been standing guard were incapacitated on the floor.
(End of bold/regular text switches)
The entire group was preparing to enter the room they stood in front of. Whatever HYDRA had been working on had to be here. Nowhere else in the building had anything significant and this was the final stop.
The door had a keypad that required a passcode as well as a biometric scan. Of course, they could try using the guards to try to pass the retinal scan but there wasn't any guarantee they had access.  Of course, they had to deal with the code as well. Maybe physical force would work.
Tony scanned the door's material and found that it was capable of taking the strongest hit from his and Harley's suit combined.
"All right, does anyone else have any brilliant ideas on how to enter this room?" He asked "I don't have enough firepower for this door."
Coulson turned to Daisy and nodded his head.
"Do your thing." He said.
She rolled her eyes and approached the keypad to the door and forced the device to open, revealing circuit boards and wires.
"What is she doing?" Harley asked in confusion. "I thought she could blast through stuff?"
Daisy took out a small tablet and hooked it to the keypad, quickly typing out code and breaking through the security.
"You're lucky I still carry a tablet, Coulson. We would have been in trouble otherwise."
Tony was impressed and slightly scared of how fast she broke through HYDRA's mainframe of security. He made a mental note to update his security system as well as FRIDAY's firewalls.
After a couple minutes of rapid typing, the door opened with a hiss of cold air.
"Remind me to change all my passwords on my social media." Harley said to his suit's AI.
"All right, lets see what HYDRA has been working on." Coulson announced. "Prepare yourselves for anything."
They walked into the room and immediately, everyone noticed the change of temperature compared to the rest of the base.
FRIDAY informed Tony that it was 10 degrees in the room and understandably, everyone was shivering.
Tony walked a bit further and then stopped suddenly. He felt his blood run colder than the room itself.
Coulson had said to be prepared for anything but he clearly didn't have this in mind of the things he needed to steel himself for.
"Oh my god." Kate whispered. "Is it?"
"Peter?" Harley asked in disbelief.
Tony's son was in the corner of the room, curled up in the fetal position, and unresponsive to the world around him.
"FRIDAY, scan for any vital signs." Tony asked desperately.
"He's got a pulse, but I believe he may be in a comatose state. He is also dehydrated and malnourished."
Coulson's team didn't know who this Peter was, but they knew based on everyone else's reaction that he was someone who had been missing for a long time.
"FitzSimmons, do you read me?" Coulson said into his earpiece.
"Yes sir, what's wrong?" Jemma's voice replied.
"We need you to set up the medbay immediately. Get an IV drip sufficient for dehydration as well as malnutrition." Coulson ordered. "We also need heat lamps, if you got any."
"Right away sir." She replied.
Steve picked Peter up and everyone followed him out of the base, back to safety.
*Time skip to returning to New York*
Morgan had been in the middle of a meeting for student council when her watch buzzed. Although it wasn't unusual for that to happen, this time it was buzzing in a pattern that meant there was an emergency that she could not ignore.
"May I be excused to go to the bathroom?" She asked the teacher, who nodded her approval.
She grabbed the hall pass and made her way to the bathroom and checked to see what the message was.
The message was from Harley and what he had sent broken down the walls of composure she had been building for 6 months.
Morgan, we found Peter. We're almost back to the tower and mom's picking you and Carter up. We'll tell you more when you get here.
She sank to the floor and started to sob.
How was this possible?
Where had he been?
How was he alive?
Was he still alive?
More and more questions ran through her head and she finally calmed down enough to exit the bathroom without looking like she had just had a breakdown. When she walked back into the classroom she was handed a summons to leave early.
She arrived at the attendance office and Carter was already there, waiting for her with Pepper by his side.
They all hugged for a good long while and they all cried a bit before Happy started to drive to the tower to meet up with everyone.
"Mom? Is he alive?" Morgan asked hoarsely.
She was silent for a bit before replying.
"He's alive but he's in a coma of sorts."
"Do we know why?" Carter asked.
"Dad said it was extensive exposure to frigid temperatures and that the spider DNA caused him to hibernate because of it." She answered.
"Do we know when he's supposed to wake up?" Carter questioned.
"I don't know honey." Pepper said honestly. "We have to hope for the best."
Morgan felt her heart sink in her chest as they pulled into the parking garage.
Everyone got out as soon as the car was parked and rushed to the elevator.
"FRIDAY, take us to the medbay where Peter is." Pepper said.
"Right away miss." She replied.
They made it to the medbay in record time and rushed to Peter's bedside, where he was still asleep.
Morgan almost didn't recognize that it was Peter in the bed.
His face was unnaturally pale and gaunt and he had lost weight, his frame looking thinner and weaker because of it. His hair was longer than she had ever seen it before and was tangled in knots. He had multiple bruises scattered around his body that should have been healed.
Tony and Harley walked into the room soon after and Morgan hugged them both extra tightly as she let out months worth of fear and anxiety in the form of tears.
"Shhhh, Maguna, it's ok, he's home." Tony whispered. "Breathe, you have to breathe."
"I thought he was dead." She sobbed into his chest.
"I know, but he's here now, everything's going to be ok." Tony reassured her gently.
Carter and Pepper joined in the hug and they all comforted each other.
Peter was finally home, where he belonged.
And he was about to wake up from his slumber.
"Hello?" a voice said, cracking in the middle of the word. "Where 'm I?"
Harley turned his head towards Peter so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.
"He's awake!" He said.
Everyone let go from the hug to gather around Peter's bed.
"Peter, are you ok? How do you feel?" Carter asked.
Peter turned to look at Carter.
"Who're you?" He asked confusedly.
Peter looked at all the people standing by his bed.
"Who are you guys?" He asked. "What am I doing here?"
Everyone's hearts collectively sank at his question.
Peter didn't remember anyone in this room. He couldn't recall his family. What had HYDRA done to him?
"Peter, we're your family." Morgan explained shakily. "I'm Morgan, your little sister. That's Harley, your brother, Carter, my boyfriend. That's mom and dad over there. Don't you remember at all?"
Morgan's voice broke as she asked him that question.
Peter looked at everyone's faces, one by one, trying his best to remember them but he couldn't. His memories were blank with a capital 'B'.
"Maybe photos or videos might help?" Carter offered weakly.
"FRIDAY pull up video footage from the folder, Family Shenanigans."
FRIDAY displayed footage from the timeframe that the Avengers were playing pool in the rec room.
Tony was on a team with Carter and Harley and Morgan were on the other. Peter and Pepper were watching them play from the side.
"Come on Harley, you can do better than that!" Tony teased as he put chalk on his cue stick. "Morgan's been carrying your team the whole game."
"No way, I've hit at least half of our balls in the pockets!" Harley protested, even though he knew he was spouting bullshit.
"I've done two behind the back shots and made them, how many have you done?" Morgan piped in, absolutely decimating Harley, the Roast King himself.
Everyone burst out laughing at her comeback and Tony immediately fell to the floor from laughter and pounded his fist on the ground.
Morgan had never seen her dad laugh so hard at something, let alone everyone else, including Natasha, who usually never let more than a chuckle out when she found something hilarious.
"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON ANYWAY?!" Harley yelled at her over all the laughter.
"That's my sister!"  Peter said proudly, with tears of laughter in his eyes.
Friday played other videos taken during random moments, as well as displaying photos. Everyone took turns explaining what had happened that day and why it was special. Peter asked questions here and there and everyone answered patiently and with extra detail to help.
Eventually, they had gone through the entire folder and Morgan glanced at Peter to see if there was a flicker of recognition at all.
"Do you remember now?" She asked him softly.
Peter had tears in his eyes as he answered.
"I'm so sorry." He said.
Morgan wanted to scream her heart out. He still didn't remember his family. She didn't know if he ever would.
"I've been gone so long, and HYDRA erased my memories. But you guys were able to find me before they could finish the job for good." He said, finishing what he had wanted to say. "I do remember you guys. I can't believe I ever forgot how much everyone here means to me."
Pepper let out a gasp as she nearly tackled him in a hug. Everyone felt a huge weight lift from their shoulders as Peter laughed weakly at everyone's faces.
"Peter, don't you ever scare us like that again!" Harley scolded with tears running down his face.
"That was a shitty thing to do, seriously." Carter said, annoyed but mostly relieved that Peter was back.
"Peter, never forget how much we love you." Tony said, wiping a tear away from his cheek.
"I can't believe you're back." Morgan said, smiling despite the fact she was still crying a bit.
"I'm here, and I won't be leaving you guys like that again." Peter replied. "I mean, I'm bedridden at the moment anyway."
Everyone groaned at his joke before a group hug formed around Peter.
Everything was as it should always have been.
A/N: Here's a little fun fact about this chapter, the part where Morgan roasts Harley is based on something that happened within my family a couple years ago. In my family's version, I was on a team with my cousin and my dad and another cousin were on the other team. The dialogue is basically word for word what happened. I roasted my cousin, and my everyone started laughing, and my dad literally fell to the floor and was pounding his fist on the ground.
Taglist: @frostedgiant
Send an ask if you would like to be tagged in future fics!
18 notes · View notes
myevilmouse · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Today for Trivia Tuesday @jedimordsith suggested I write about my drabble skills and give suggestions to anyone wanting to write drabbles.  I recently wrote 28 drabbles for the Multifandom Drabble Exchange just for fun muwahahah.  Also this is why, since I went outside the Star Wars fandom I love and live in, that I created a new pseud, Złymyszeczka, in case you were wondering what was up with that. Fandoms that I dabbled in included Supernatural, Resident Evil, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, My So-Called Life, X-Men, Wellington Paranormal, Quantum Leap, Labyrinth, Hercules (Disney), Cobra Kai, Lord of the Rings, Loki, Chronicles of Narnia, X-Files, Sherlock, Star Trek TNG, and more!  
Obviously I had to separate all that multi-fandom madness from the purity of my Luke and Thrawn smut!
So please if you check me out on AO3 for Star Wars stuff (and I sincerely hope you do!), note that you want to keep the evilmouse name.  I don’t plan on writing outside Star Wars fandom often, but on the rare occasions I do, it will get posted under the other name.
Back to the point:
Evilmouse’s 5 Essential Tips on Writing Drabbles
for your Trivia Tuesday, jump below the cut!
 So drabbles are 100 words.  Double drabbles, 200, Triple, 300, etc.  A lot of people find the exactness of this word restriction daunting, so here is my first tip for writing drabbles:
1)   Don’t think about the word count.
This may seem counter-intuitive, but the best way to approach a drabble is “I have to write a very short scene.”  Knowing it will be short (very short!) is enough to get you to the word count, and maybe push you over 3, 10, or 20 words.  That’s fine.  We fix it in the editing.  But if you get hung up about counting words when you are writing your drabble, you won’t write the best drabble you can!
2)  Focus on a single moment.  
When I say very short scene, think VERY SHORT SCENE.  It may be as simple as a quick verbal exchange.  It may be something you want to accomplish, i.e. a kiss, a punch.  Here are a couple examples from my recent experience:
One person requested a Chronicles of Narnia/MCU crossover and listed Prince Caspian and Loki as two characters they were interested in shipping.  So my goal was to write 100 words with these two characters.  
What shall we focus on?  100 words isn’t enough to explain why Loki is in Narnia or why Caspian is in Asgard. You have to trust the reader to accept the premise if they click on your drabble. 
What is your goal?  Here, it was to get these two in a situation where a shipper will be happy with their interaction. In my case, I decided they would be trapped somewhere together and alone.  That was it, that was the starting point for the drabble, which you can read here.
Another example: one person requesting a Star Wars drabble said they liked when female characters meet and interact and listed old!Leia and Asajj Ventress as favorites.  
Same question: what do you want to accomplish? In this case, two characters who don’t meet in canon having that opportunity.  A meeting.  100 words is our limit.  Do we care why or where they are meeting?  Probably not.  That initial interaction is the goal.  So for this one, I set what I hoped was a mysterious atmosphere and just simply wrote their initial exchange here.  Trust your readers to fill in the blanks, which leads us to:
3)   Let the “end” be as ambiguous as you like.
Drabbles are brief moments, as already mentioned.  They don’t need a proper beginning or end, they can (and sometimes should) leave the reader asking questions or wanting more.  I like writing drabbles that imply something happened next, and leave it up to the reader to decide exactly what.  
In the case of the Loki/Caspian drabble, knowing that Loki can teleport, and chooses not to, implies he has some ulterior motive in lying about his powers.  
In the case of Asajj & Leia, we know Asajj sent a comm to initiate the meeting but we don’t know exactly what she means by saying they will be “friends.”  Is she sincere?  Have some trick up her sleeve?  I don’t have to know!  But the moment is achieved.
That doesn’t mean that you can’t “end” a drabble if you want to.  I wrote a treat for someone who wanted Sarah and Jareth to end up together when she was all grown up.  So obviously the request has already dictated my ending.  In that case, I had a couple goals:  to tell the reader she was all grown up, to demonstrate how much has/hasn’t changed, and to make her wind up with that sexy Goblin King.  Mmmm yesssss.
Each of those goals, which may have appeared difficult at first, took exactly one sentence:
Curtains fluttered, an unnatural gust summoning the ever-present metropolitan cacophony into her apartment.
We know now that Sarah has her own apartment, old enough to live alone.
“It didn’t!” she glared, injustice manifested in that indignant whine she’d retained, like most of her teenage dreams.
In the film Labyrinth, Sarah’s always saying things aren’t fair.  So here we see she hasn’t quite gotten rid of that tendency to whine about injustice, and is still a dreamer at heart.
“This time,” Sarah took a deep breath, certain, “I’ll stay.”
She’s not hesitating, she’s decided, and she’s going to live happily ever after with her mystical consort (we hope).
The point here is that your drabble can be as conclusive or inconclusive as you like, and isn’t limited by the word count.
4)   Edit without mercy
Yes I KNOW that is the perfect adjective for Luke’s sparkling blue eyes, but if your word count is 101, those eyes are either sparkling or blue but not both!
Once you achieve your “moment” in the drabble form, you have to check that word count and CHOP CHOP CHOP.  It’s a rare thing to be under word count, but if you are lucky to be under, just add a few well-chosen adjectives and you’re done.  However, if you, like most of us, have just written 123 words of perfection and want to scream because there is NO WAY you can do the same thing in 100 words, you have two options:  write 77 MORE words and surrender to the double drabble, OR like I try to do, throw away the things you love until you have accomplished the same thing in 100 words.
To demonstrate this exercise, I set myself a task (because I haven’t saved drafts of my drabbles, sadly) to show you what I mean.  So right now at this very instant I’m going to write a drabble about Luke Skywalker being in love with YOU.  A Luke/Reader drabble, for example.  Let’s go:
Everyone groaned as the briefing ended.  It had gone on two hours too long for your taste, and judging by the mad rush to the exit, you weren’t alone in your assessment.  As you left the conference room, you almost bumped into Luke Skywalker.  The Jedi Master looked as handsome as always, but rather more casual than usual, his robes nowhere in sight and dressed simply in black pants with a blue shirt.  
“Excuse me,” you said, about to move past, flustered beyond belief.  If only he wasn’t so kriffing good-looking… It was stupid to lust after a Jedi—any Jedi.
“Actually,” he smiled, “I was waiting here for you.”
A wave of shock, quickly followed by confusion, made you even more tongue-tied than usual.
“Me?”
He nodded.  “Yeah.  Have dinner with me tonight?”
 OK here is where I checked the wordcount.  134 words. Ouch.  Quickly we have to edit because I’m not happy with the ending either. And 134 means some serious slicing and dicing.  Here’s take two:
The briefing seemed to end two hours too late, and judging by the mad rush to the exit, your colleagues agreed.  Leaving the conference room, you almost bumped into Luke Skywalker.  The Jedi Master looked handsome as always, but more casual than usual, robes nowhere in sight, dressed in black pants and blue shirt.
“Excuse me,” you said, moving past, flustered.  If only he wasn’t so kriffing good-looking… It was stupid to lust after a Jedi, but that hadn’t stopped you.
He smiled.  “I was waiting for you.”
Shock, quickly followed by confusion, made you even more tongue-tied than usual.
“Me?”
He nodded.  “Yeah.  Have dinner with me tonight?”
 OK we’ve done some serious slicing and are down to 109 words.  But I’m still not happy, AND we gotta cut more.
The briefing ended two hours too late, and judging by the mad rush to the exit, everyone agreed.  Leaving the room, you ran into Luke Skywalker.  The Jedi Master looked handsome as always, but more casual than usual, no robes, just dressed in black pants and blue shirt.
“Excuse me,” you muttered, flustered.  If only he wasn’t so kriffing good-looking… It was stupid to lust after a Jedi, but that hadn’t stopped you.
He smiled.  “I was waiting for you.”
Shock, quickly followed by confusion, made you even more tongue-tied than usual.
“Me?”
He nodded, and held out a hand.  “Come with me?”
Down to 103 words now and I managed to change the ending I wasn’t crazy about at first…notice what has and hasn’t changed between these short drafts... not much in the way of story, just how it is told.
Still have to edit more…three pesky words…
Judging by the mad rush to the exit, everyone agreed that meeting had been too long.  Hurrying out, you ran into Luke Skywalker.  The Jedi Master looked handsome as always, but more casual than usual, no robes, just dressed in black pants and blue shirt.  
“Excuse me,” you muttered, flustered.  If only he wasn’t so kriffing good-looking… It was stupid to lust after a Jedi, but common sense wasn’t your forte.
He smiled.  “I was waiting for you.”
Shock, quickly followed by confusion, made you even more tongue-tied than usual.
“Me?”
He nodded, holding out an inviting hand.  “Come with me?”
Now I’ve got 101 words and I don’t want to cut it, but I have to…*waves goodbye to “kriffing”*
Judging by the mad rush to the exit, everyone agreed that meeting had been too long.  Hurrying out, you ran into Luke Skywalker.  The Jedi Master looked handsome as always, but more casual than usual, no robes, just dressed in black pants and blue shirt.  
“Excuse me,” you muttered, flustered.  If only he wasn’t so good-looking… It was stupid to lust after a Jedi, but common sense wasn’t your forte.
He smiled.  “I was waiting for you.”
Shock, quickly followed by confusion, made you even more tongue-tied than usual.
“Me?”
He nodded, holding out an inviting hand.  “Come with me?”
So we have 100 words exactly, that imply Luke is into you and you have a future with him.  From starting the drabble to finishing it, took me about 18 minutes.  If you don’t pressure yourself, it doesn’t have to be a nightmare.  Which brings me to tip #5
5) Don’t stress, and have fun!
Sometimes I have spent as much as two hours on a drabble, but usually no more than a half hour to get it where I want.  When I do the “drabble a day” for Fictober, I try to limit myself to 15 minutes.  The point is, drabbles should be fun and low stress.  Don’t agonize about them!  Sure, you can edit for hours to fix each word to be absolutely perfect and convey something the same but different, but you can also just achieve that glimpse into a scene, that moment, and enjoy your work!
I hope you enjoyed this and/or found it useful.  If you’d like to read some of my drabbles, you can click on this #drabble tag, check out these drabble collections here and here, my story told in drabbles here, or explore my new pseud złamyszeczka for those other fandoms I mentioned.  Thank you for reading!
12 notes · View notes
x-ia-n · 3 years
Text
━ confession song.
Tumblr media
➞ including: yuu nishinoya, gn!reader** **
overview: in which despite how confident he seems, yuu nishinoya hesitates in confessing to you.
word count: 1.1k
➼ haikyuu masterlist
↳ main masterlist
↦ fluff bc i can’t bring you angst on christmas eve, unrequited crushes but not quite, [you are] is an alternate version
‧͙⁺˚・༓☾  ☽༓・˚⁺‧͙
‘stupid tanaka,’ yuu thinks, getting him into this mess. how was he supposed to confess to you, anyway? he was just a libero in their volleyball team, and openly obsessed over one (1) girl before he met you. his desk at home is littered with drafts of love letters he’s written to you; a drawer is filled with completed ones, he just can’t choose which one to give you. ryuunosuke suggested that he bakes you a cake because ‘who doesn’t like cake?’ and like two peas in a pod, sharing one collective brain cell, he agreed. 
that brings us to the present, as yuu desperately looks for the ingredients listed on a small piece of paper. he could always go to coach ukai’s shop, but he wants that as a last resort. it’s christmas eve, and he sure as hell is running out of time if he wants to give the homemade cake for you and your family on christmas.
as he looked through the supermarket aisle, he’s rehearsing what he should say to you. he’s tried to confess once or… three times before, all of which either got interrupted or turned out badly. the libero remembers when he tried to confess to you but yamaguchi accidentally hit you with a serve and caused you to get a nosebleed. ryuunosuke tried to calm him down before he went feral on his junior.
he paid for the ingredients with the money he saved up - which he had only for the sole purpose of confessing to you - and started heading home. he was mumbling under his breath, “hey, i really like you… no. i know this is probably out of nowhere but will you go on a date… no.” 
he was so focused on his words and didn’t realize that he wasn’t on the way home. yuu found himself standing in front of your doorstep. it isn’t his intention- oh god, what if you think he’s weird or something? how did he end up at your doorstep? as he turned on his heel to leave, the front door opened.
“yuu?” you asked, genuinely curious to see your classmate right outside your door. he froze mid-turn.
“what are you doing here? it’s the holidays.” 
he smiled sheepishly as he faced you. “i brought these,” he lifted the grocery bag. “and i thought, why not bake a cake with you.”
you beamed at him, inviting him inside. the boy started thanking all the deities he could think of for making him sound so smooth and suave. the libero took off his shoes before stepping inside. he let himself be guided into your quaint kitchen, and that is when panic settled in. he’s inside your house, alone, it seems - you briefly mentioned to him that your parents were shopping for christmas dinner - and you’re going to bake his confession cake together. oh my god, he’s actually going to confess to you. 
you both spent an hour making the batter, getting sidetracked when he smeared some of it on your face. a competitive glint shone in your eyes as you threw a handful of the leftover flour onto his hair, earning a yell from him. he isn’t mad, couldn’t even get himself to sound mad as your laugh rang like soft chimes of bells in his ears. you cleaned your face with a washcloth and passed another one to him, saying, “the flour will hopefully stick to the damp towel.”
yuu rubbed the damp cloth on his hair vigorously, trying to get the bits of flour off as you popped the cake batter into the oven. “hey, yuu-” you stopped, the words dying on your tongue as you see him with his hair down for the first time.
“yeah, y/n?” he asked, his eyes shining at you. you shake the thoughts from your head, “aren’t your parents going to worry?” 
the boy grinned and flashed you a thumbs up. “nope! i told them i’m at your house and they’re fine with it. they like you, so that’s not really a problem to them.”
internal panic ensues.
you’re panicking as you realized he talks about you, to his parents. his parents. the very people you want to impress because you undoubtedly have a massive crush on their son and he practically revealed to you that he talks about you. 
the libero, on the other hand, is dying inside. his soul left his body as his words sunk in. will you hate him for talking to his parents about you? do you find it weird? do you think he’s a creep? he hasn’t even come close to confessing and you might already reject him. did you even register what he said? he hopes not.
“noya…” you trailed off.
because of his nerves, he ended up bowing to you and stuttering as he shouted out, “i like you!”
a blush rapidly spread across his face in embarrassment, but you couldn’t see as he’s still bent forward. “yuu.”
he shut his eyes as soon as he straightened up and began to ramble. “i’m sorry! you probably didn’t expect this, and it may be out of the blue. hell, you might even think i like kiyoko, and i do- but not in that way! i,” he opened his eyes to see you standing so close to him, that he could see the faint traces of a blush on your cheeks. 
he bowed once more, “i like you, please accept my feelings!” 
“i like you too.” you say to him. yuu raised his head to look at you and felt his heart soar. “wait, you do?”
you rolled your eyes at him, and smirked. “i have been flirting with you for the past year. and i gave you chocolates on valentine’s day. i don’t even like valentine’s day.”
he moved closer to you and opened his arms. “can i?”
as soon as you nodded, yuu engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you a good few inches off of the ground. the smell of his cologne - it smells different, he put on a new one, perhaps? - was intoxicating, but you couldn’t have it any other way. he set you down and pulled away for a bit, a goofy smile plastered on his lips. 
the faint ding of the oven timer sounded, and both of you were brought into reality. he carefully took out the cake in the oven, and that’s when it clicked. 
“you got ingredients for my favorite cake?” you asked, peeking from behind his shoulder.
“yeah, it’s supposed to be a confession cake!” cue you stopping once again. as much as he likes seeing these reactions from you, he was kinda disappointed how his confession didn’t go the way he planned it to. all is well though, as now he confessed to you, and you happen to feel the same.
the love letters in his drawer will make their appearance one day.
Tumblr media
x-ia-n © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost. general taglist: @mooniepotchi​​​ @hqnishi​​ | please fill out this form to be added to the taglist!
45 notes · View notes