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tenelkadjowrites · 2 months

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The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?

🪓Word count: 15k

🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.

🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.

You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.

Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.

But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.

In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.

Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –

A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.

Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.

“Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”

“Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.

He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.

You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”

He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key.”

“Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.

You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.

His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.

“It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.

“You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.

He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”

You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely.

“I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.

His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.

You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.

“I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”

His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.

After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.

“Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.

It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.

He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.

“Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.

“No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”

You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”

He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.

“I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.

“Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”

He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”

“The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.

Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Seonghwa, it’s fine –”

“I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.

You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.

But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.

He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”

“Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”

Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”

You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”

“Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”

Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.

There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.

“What about you?”

His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”

A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.

“That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”

Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.

“No, I’m good.”

Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”

“So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.

“Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.

This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”

“No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.

“Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”

Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”

“Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”

Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.

He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.

“Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”

“No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”

Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”

“Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.

“Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”

The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.

With him, what you see is what you get.

“Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”

You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is. Think about last time.”

Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.

It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.

His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.

Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.

Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”

Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.

“I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.

You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?

The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.

It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.

But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.

But you do.

There isn’t a lot inside.

One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.

Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.

You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.

The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.

But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.

Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.

You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.

The house key winks knowingly at you.

You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?

You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.

In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.

You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for looking casual.

“My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.

Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”

“No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”

“Yeah, fine, I get it.”

You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.

“I’ll message you later,” You say.

“Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”

It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.

You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.

Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.

The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”

Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”

But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”

For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”

You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.

“Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”

Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”

You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him.

Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.

Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.

“Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.

And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.

You’re sure of it.

Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.

This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.

You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.

But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.

Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.

“Hello?”

“Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”

“What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…

“Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.

You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”

“My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”

“No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”

“Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”

The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?

“I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”

You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.

No one answers.

You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”

Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”

The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.

“What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.

His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”

“I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”

“His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”

You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”

Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.

“So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.

You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”

But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”

You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.

There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”

He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.

“Get a towel.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me now.”

“Yup.”

The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.

Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.

Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.

You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.

You wonder if the box is still under the sink.

Maybe you imagined it.

With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.

Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…

Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.

One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.

Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –

You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.

An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?

This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.

The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.

“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.

“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.

Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.

“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”

You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”

“Is it illegal to own one?”

“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.

Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.

His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.

You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”

He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.

“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”

Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.

You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”

Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.

You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”

He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.

“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.

You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”

“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.

“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.

“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”

“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”

“The bracelet –”

Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”

I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.

“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”

“You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.

“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.

“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”

You swallow hard, unable to reply.

He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”

The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”

“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”

Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.

But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”

“But…but his car…”

“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”

You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”

“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”

Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”

He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”

You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”

Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…

Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”

You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”

“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”

“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.

He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.

Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.

There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.

Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.

The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.

You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?

Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”

You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”

“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”

But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.

You’re afraid of yourself.

“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”

In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.

But he isn’t.

And you’re not sure how you feel.

There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.

You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.

You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.

What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.

But it wasn’t karma.

Unless Seonghwa is your karma.

Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.

And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.

What the fuck did that say about you?

You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.

Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.

But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.

At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.

What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.

But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.

His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.

Still no answer.

The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.

But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.

But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.

You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.

But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.

“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”

You’ve never heard him speak like that.

“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.

“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.

No, you didn’t.

Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.

His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.

He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”

Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”

His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”

“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.

His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”

His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”

“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”

His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.

But he feels so good underneath you.

Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.

He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.

“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.

“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.

Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.

When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”

You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.

Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.

He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.

But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.

Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.

Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.

“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”

There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?

Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.

“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”

Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.

“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”

His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.

His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.

While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.

Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.

You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.

“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.

He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.

His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.

You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.

And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.

“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”

You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”

Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.

His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.

The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.

So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.

Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.

He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”

You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”

“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.

His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.

Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.

His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”

Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.

When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”

Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.

“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.

His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”

The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.

Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.

The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.

You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.

You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.

“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”

I watched you through your window last week.

The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.

With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.

“I’d fucking kill for you.”

And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.

Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”

Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.

The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”

You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.

“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”

Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”

His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.

Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.

You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.

Your lips find his.

A cloud covers the moon.

You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.

You’re thinking about him.

You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.

He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.

Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.

“I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”

Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.

You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.

You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.

“You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”

Seonghwa grins cheerfully.

“Yeah, just in case.”

the end.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #the heart's filthy lesson #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes

1K notes · View notes

msgexymunson · 1 year

Text

Rumour Part Two: Rose

Description: After hooking up with your hot neighbour, things aren't going as you had hoped. Maybe a note will turn it around for the both of you...

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll put you in detention, Angsty angst, but fluffy, and HELLA SMUT. Sub!fem!younger!reader x older!pierced!dom!eddie, (age gap not problematic) rough sex, oral fem receiving, praise kink, sir kink, pet names

A/N: Please read part 1 first! I'm totally feral for this version of Eddie and apparently you lot are too! Thank you for all your love and support, I really hope you enjoy this!

❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive. If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤

4.6k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Marching home from the bar, arms crossed as a barrier against the chilly air, you huff into the night, sending out a cloud of steamy breath. Your mood at work tonight was frankly diabolical. If you were your own manager you probably would have fired yourself. Dropping glasses, snapping at customers, drifting into day dreams, you were a mess. In the end your boss told you to go home, that your head was clearly not in the game tonight; thankfully treating you better than you would have treated yourself.

Nearing the corner of your street, you stomp along, thinking about the man you couldn't get out of your head for the past six days. The man you were trying to push from your mind unsuccessfully. The man that didn't call. Eddie Munson.

After an evening of frankly mind blowing sex, he took you out on a lunch date. You ate nice food, shared a bottle of wine, and spoke about your interests. You discovered a mutual love for art, and a similar taste in music. He was soft, chatty, funny. Afterwards you had gone for a walk around the park, even held hands. For a moment you really thought you had started to connect with him. Then he'd dropped you back home, told you he was a bit busy for the next couple of days, kissed you on the cheek and disappeared into the wind.

It would have hurt less if he had just left after that night, but the date seemed to go well. The only explanation in your eyes was that he couldn't have liked you after getting to know you. The thought stabbed ice through your heart.

As you approach your building, you see a familiar figure sitting down smoking. You still your movements, trying to collect your feelings and push them down deep inside. Taking a deep breath, you slip on the blankest look you can muster and march straight to your door.

"Hey pretty girl."

No matter how much you try to mask, that gruff voice and those words just do something to you.

"Hey." You throw back, not bothering to look in his direction. You hear the creak of leather as he gets up. Desperately trying to get your keys out of your pocket, you end up dropping them on the floor. Well done. Smooth.

Eddie's closed the distance between you, reaching down to swipe the keys into a large hand. He looms over you, standing close, inches from your shaking form. The atmosphere is stifling, tension in the air laced with your anger.

"Can I have my keys please." Your gaze firmly locked away from him.

Eddie hands them over, but grabs your small hand in his when you try to pull away.

"Can you look at me, sweet thing?" His other hand reaches for your chin to pull your gaze towards him, rough fingers coaxing you. Struggling to resist him when he's in the very air you breathe, you let your eyes meet his.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you, I've just been-"

"-really busy? Yeah." Your tone has venom, it coats each word, leaving your mouth with a bitter taste.

"Look I'm sorry, do you wanna-"

"I've got to go Eddie. I'm super busy." You snatch you hand away from his and take your front door key, jamming it into the lock. Eddie steps back, arms up, giving you space. It takes everything you have not to turn around when you slam the door behind you.

You lean against the door, shaking, biting back the tears that are begging to roll down your cheeks. Hot and flustered, you do your best to calm down and just breathe. You slide your back down the door and sit on the floor with your head in your hands. This is stupid.

Maybe you should have let him explain. What explanation could there be though, after he made you feel like that, then disappeared into the mist?

Lifting your head weakly, you notice a piece of paper folded in half on the welcome mat, seemingly shoved under your door. Curious, you pick it up and open it. It's from him.

Underneath the hastily scrawled note is the most beautiful pencil drawing of a rose you think you've ever seen. It almost looks like you could pluck it off the paper. The detail is simply breath taking; there's even shining dew drops on the velvety looking petals. You're half expecting a floral sweet scent to roll off of it.

Hey sweet thing, sorry I've not called. You must be at work. Knock when you get this.

E.M x

p.s. You said you like roses, I drew this for you.

Your hand flies to your mouth, shocked at the sheer beauty and intricacy of it. What's more, is that you're not even sure you remember when you told him roses were your favourite flower. It can't have been recently.

Shame drips down your throat and into your gut at how you'd greeted him earlier. Determined to resolve this before it goes any further you stand up and make your way back outside. Eddie's chair is empty. Taking a deep breath, you steel your nerves, walk across the courtyard and knock on his door.

It swings open a crack, and then all the way. Eddie stands in the doorway shirtless, tattoos strewn across his chest, messy hair loose and wild. His sweat pants are hanging low on his hips, cut groin and hip bones on display, his dark thatch of hair leading down drawing your eye. You take a shaky breath in; realising you're staring, your eyes snap up to meet his.

He looks from your face, down to your hand still gripping his drawing.

"So, you got my note huh." Flashing you a small smile.

Throwing your arms around his neck you kiss him hard. He staggers, taken aback by the gesture, but only for a moment. Then his hand is on your lower back, the other in your hair, as his tongue flicks across your bottom lip begging. You submit, his probing tongue dipping deep into your mouth, saying everything his note did not. You feel the steel of his piercing rub against your tongue, massaging in the kiss. Pressing up against him it's impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his sweat pants forced against your beating core.

You both break from the kiss, eyes seeking each others.

"I'm sorry-"

You laugh, speaking in unison. He presses hot, hard kisses to your lips, tongue running down your neck, beginning to bite and suck. Moaning, your nails dig into his back.

Eddie breaks away from you, leaving you pouting, neck stretching towards his perfect mouth, chasing the feeling.

"Listen, as much as this is incredible, can I talk to you?"

Taking gasping breaths you try and steady yourself.

"Yeah, sure." Still focusing on pacifying your breathing.

He takes your arm and leads you inside, gesturing to the couch. Taking a seat you glance around the room. It's a mess; not exactly dirty but there's things everywhere. Several guitars and amps lean haphazardly on the walls. A tower of books threatens to spill over the side of the coffee table. A few empty beer bottles sit in various states on the counter top. There's a desk, covered in writing and drawing implements, more books open around paper pads, you assume for reference purposes. You don't see many photographs around which seems strange to you. The only framed picture on the wall is a younger Eddie with an older man, balding in a checked shirt, maybe his father? There's another frame on the window ledge which you can't make out much detail from, looks like a crowd of teenage boys.

Eddie sits beside you, hand resting on your knee. When he speaks his voice is brimming with emotion, something you're entirely unready for.

"Listen, I just wanted to explain. I really like you. It's just," he pauses, staring at the corner of the room, lips pressed together, "I'm not used to this. Any of this. I'm not exactly seen as boyfriend material, you know?" He laughs softly at that, eyes seeking yours. You nudge him with your hand, willing him to continue, fingers tracing encouraging circles on his thigh.

"People see me as a one and dump. I've gotten used to it, not many wanted me my whole damn life. Meeting you, and getting along, outside of sex, I just- I was scared."

His doe eyes meet yours and you melt. The strong, confident man has melted away, exposing the soft, tender boy in front of you.

Clambering onto his lap, you stroke his stubbly cheek.

"I don't see you like that." Locking eyes for a second, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his full lips. His eyes close, kissing you back gently, mouths moving in sync. His hands stroke delicately down your sides, so much so that you twitch.

"Sorry, that tickles," you breathe out, wiggling away from his attention.

"Oh, ticklish eh?" He grins deviously, fingers tracing agonising patterns in your sides.

You giggle, bucking out your hips, trying to escape from the feeling. Reaching out your own fingers you dig into his sides trying to get your own back.

"Oh sweet thing you're really in for it now!" Before you can understand what's happening you're on the floor, Eddie pinioning you to the carpet. Hands held above your head, his whole body weight is keeping you in place.

"OK you win, please sir let me go!" You tease.

Eddie's irises shrink back, pupils blown, predatory gaze roaming over your features.

"Oh now that's not fair pretty girl." He bends forward, large hand encompassing your wrists, kissing and suckling at your exposed flesh.

It takes a second, but then it hits you.

"Sir please."

Eddie groans into your neck; his hard length pressing forcefully into your core.

For confirmation, you cant help but play into it further.

"Oh please, please Sir, please let me go!" Smirking, bucking into the air.

The noise that leaves Eddie's throat is gravelly and animalistic, grinding into you with abandon, hand holding you tight by the wrists. Your giggles have transformed into moans, pulse travelling to your heat.

His hand roams from your wrists to pull your top over your head, exposing your bare chest. Eddie wastes no further time in licking down to your exposed breasts, tongue trailing to your nipples.

"I thought you were a good girl, sweet thing," and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The swirl of his thick tongue around your sensitive buds makes you wail, hips humping up to meet his. He sucks onto your exposed nipples hard, the feeling sending bolts of arousal through your chest, massing in your stomach.

"Please Eddie." All confidence stripped from you now that you're squirming beneath him, rough stubble from his chin abrading your delicate skin.

Unlatching from your chest he draws level with your face. The dark, steely glint in his eyes makes your cunt throb. His breath fans across your face; the smell of Eddie's skin permeating all of your senses.

"That's not what you called me before."

A rugged hand enwraps your neck, squeezing softly at the sides, almost a threat. The rough touch makes you whimper. He's not constricting your airway, just letting you know whose in charge. As if there was any doubt.

"Please sir."

His eyes close as he grunts, suddenly pulling off of you. He rips the fastenings of your jeans open with an unruliness that has your cunt clenching, attempting to drag them off your legs along with your underwear. Eddie realises too late you've still got your shoes on and you huff a laugh at his obvious frustration. The laugh dies in your throat however when he uses brute force to pull your trainers off your feet, ignoring the laces. You whine at the display of strength, arousal gripping you so tightly that you feel it in your bones.

Laying on the carpet fully nude under his powerful gaze, you attempt to shy away but Eddie stops you immediately with a simple wave of his hand. He rubs at your sides, taking a moment to stare at your naked form shamelessly. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you this way, with such need, wanting you this hard.

"You're really fuckin' beautiful, you know that?"

You flush at the attention, cheeks burning. His fingers smooth down to your slit, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

Without warning he flips you over, pulling a shocked yelp from you. Rough hands grab your hips, manhandling you exactly where he wants you, dragging your ass closer to him.

You jump slightly at the first contact of his swollen cock, feeling the rub of steel from his piercing drag back and forth over your folds collecting your slick.

"You ready sweet thing?"

"Mmm please-"

He starts pushing into you and you gasp; you'd nearly forgotten how big he was. The push into you continues, his girth making you bite your lip, dragging against your slick walls. He wholly sheathes himself in you and you stretch around him, filling you completely; heart, soul and cunt, belonging to him.

Eddie's warm, firm hand strokes down your spine, coming to rest on your hip, thumbs rubbing into the doughy flesh, fingers gripping possessively.

He bends over you, messy hair trailing tickles on your shoulder, gruff whisper in your ear.

"You ok sweet thing?"

Your cunt is already twitching, zaps of pleasure dancing through your insides at each flutter of your walls.

Breathlessly you manage "yes, please, fuck me sir."

Eddie growls "fuck."

He ploughs into you, setting a gut-wrenching pace, slick sex sounds slapping through the apartment. Your arm grazes the coffee table and a pile of books tumbles down. You see a flash of a dragon on the cover of one. The carpet digs into your palms and knees.

"Fuckin' hell sweets, so tight, fuck."

A flash flood of passion flows through you, expunging any discomfort at his size.

Brutal moans blossom from deep in your chest, long and drawn out, shaking in pitch from each thrust of Eddie's hips. You feel Eddie's hard member persistently hitting deep inside, hard ball of metal from his dick piercing amplifying every move. Your high hits you quickly and without warning, a lightning bolt of pleasure rocketing out of the pit of your stomach, shocking through your entire body. A tsunami of slick arousal rushing from your cunt, nearly pushing out his sizable length from sheer force.

Eddie's groans are guttural, bestial in nature. He roughly pulls you bodily towards him until your back is flush with his sweating heaving chest, pecs flexing. One hand remains digging into your hip continuing his forceful pace, other hand pulling up to your chin, holding your head firmly in place whilst he babbles filth in your ear, making your walls tremble around him.

"Fuck, calling me sir. My good girl's dirty isn't she? My good filthy girl, fuckin' soaking me. Yeah? Pretty little cunt soaking me, oh fuck-"

His thrusts flounder briefly, his climax hitting him harshly, coming deep inside you with a brutish grunt.

Both of his arms wrap around your form, sweating bodies impossibly close, panting, coming back down to earth together. Smooth lips and rough stubble press against your cheek.

You move to pull away from him and the pain in your knees hits you suddenly, buckling to the floor with a rush of air from your lungs. Laying on the floor, boneless and weak, but giggling.

"Shit you ok sweets?" Eddie hovers over your chuckling body.

"Yeah, just my knees are fucked."

"Sorry, probably should have taken you to the bedroom huh." He looks embarrassed, hand stroking the back of his neck.

Scooping you up in his strong arms he places you on the sofa. He strides off, returning with a damp cloth. Tenderly cleaning your core, he moves his attention to your knees.

"How are they now?" Eyes wandering, examining, brimming with concern. The look makes you melt.

"Apart from wicked carpet burn, fine. I think I'll live" chuckling at your own words you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you to deliver a sweet kiss. He pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the sofa and leans down over you, forehead pressed to yours.

"So, am I forgiven?" Smiling with that cocky look of his.

You pretend to think for a moment.

"I suppose. But don't do it again."

"Wouldn't dream of it pretty girl."

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're standing in the tattoo shop where Eddie works, marvelling at the artwork on the walls. You hear the incessant sound of a tattoo machine and some generic rock radio playing in the background, other artists busying themselves with their work.

"You sure about this sweet thing?"

"Yeah I'm sure," you say shyly back, nerves getting the best of you.

"Do you see anything you like? Those ones over there are mine, I've got my portfolio too if you wanna-"

"I've already got a design Eddie."

He frowns, clearly not wanting to create someone else's art on your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you pull a piece of paper out of your pocket and wordlessly hand it to him.

It's his note, the beautiful drawing of a rose almost hovering off the paper. The reason you're dating.

Eddie seems taken aback, staring at his drawing as if he were looking at it for the first time.

"Oh pretty girl, are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. Just like that please, it's perfect." You smile at him, your own eyes betrayed your feelings, glossing over softly.

Smiling back at you, you gaze at each other for a moment.

Eddie coughs and looks away. "You want this in black and grey, or colour?"

"Hmm colour I think would be best."

"And where are we thinking?"

You point to next to your hip bone over your skirt, slightly lower. Eddie glances at the area and runs his tongue over his top lip, steel ball glinting.

"You know, that's a pretty sensitive area. Are you sure that's where you want it?"

You nod, eyes meeting his.

"Ok let's get upstairs, it's a bit more, private."

Leading you to the empty upstairs and across to his workstation, you're pleasantly surprised at how clean and tidy it is. You sit down in the big leather chair whilst Eddie sorts out the stencil and gets the inks ready.

"Ok so do you wanna just pull your skirt down a little or-"

You flip it up instead, given where you wanted it, it seems easier. Eddie's eyes are transfixed on your baby blue panties.

"Eddie..."

"Yeah, shit sorry, ok right here, yeah?" He traces a gloved finger where you pointed. You nod and he pulls the hem of your underwear slightly out of the way, kissing your hip bone.

He preps the area, lays the stencil down and turns the tattoo machine on. The noise buzzes through your jangling nerves making you tense up involuntarily. Eddie strokes your thigh, firm hand coming to rest.

"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt more."

You huff a laugh at the familiar phrase.

"Hmm I think you've said that before, about something else."

Eddie's eyes sparkle impishly at the memory. "Well I was right, wasn't I?"

He leans over to your face, turning the machine off for a second, and whispers, "are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Eddie, I- fuck, don't do that in public!"

He laughs wickedly, flicking the machine back on.

"Just stay still sweet thing, I'm starting now, 'kay?"

When the needle finally hits your flesh you're pleasantly surprised. Oh it hurts, certainly, but not as much as the buzzing made you think it would. It was more annoying than anything, a persistent scratch.

"You good sweets?"

"Yeah that's fine."

He leans over you, using his left hand to steady himself high up on your thigh. Heat is pouring off him, the grip of his fingers occasionally making you want to squirm. You're sure you're getting wetter by the second just by being in close proximity to him. There's something about him concentrating the way he was, entirely oblivious to the world and in his element, that made your heart swell.

Each word of encouragement from him, each check in was making your cunt throb, pulse in your core threatening to make you twitch under him.

"Sitting so still, doing so good for me."

"Atta girl, you taking the pain ok?"

"My sweet thing, doing such a great job."

When the outline is complete, he turns off the machine to check in yet again and you feel like you're ready to explode into a horny mist.

"Sitting so well for me pretty girl. Do you need a break?"

"No I'm good," you manage breathily. His eyebrows raise, taking in your flushed cheeks and wide glassy eyes.

'Are you enjoying this sweets?" Smirking, his eyes flit from your face to your baby blue underwear, smiling wider when he eyes the growing wet patch.

"I don't know, it's just, you're really close to, you know, there," you gesture downwards, flushing even further, "but you're not touching me and you keep praising me and-"

"Well you're taking it so well, being such a good girl for me, I've got to let you know right?" He bites his lip, flashing his teeth deviously.

"Eddie" You squirm in your seat, heat of his gaze too much to take. To your surprise, embarrassed, hot tears are starting to form in your eyes, unable to process so much praise and feeling all at once.

"Shush shush, poor sweet girl, don't cry. We've got the shading to do and then I'll reward you." He winks.

You nod dumbly, wiping tears from your eyes; a subby mess on his words alone.

Eddie gets to work on the colouring and shading, constant praises falling from his perfect lips.

You space out, endless accolades making your head fuzzy, taking you away from the perpetual pain. Little by little the background noises disappear, the radio downstairs switches off and the shop sounds empty.

You hear a disembodied voice from the vicinity of the doorway.

"Eds, I'm leaving now, lock up when you're done!"

"No worries bud!" Eddie shouts back, continuing to focus on the red of the rose.

Pain starts to mount again, relentless rasping of the needle starting to take its toll. You wince, doing your best not to tense. Eddie switches to white for the highlights and you hiss at the touch of the needle.

"Ok pretty girl, I know, nearly done I promise."

You nod, hands balled into little fists.

Finally after what seems like an age of little touch ups Eddie declares he is finished. He helps you up onto wobbly legs whilst you hold your skirt up awkwardly and waddle over to the mirror.

Gawping at your new ink, you gasp in astonishment. It's as if he'd plucked a rose at dawn, sprinkled with morning dew, and laid it carefully on your hip.

"Eddie, its perfect, it's incredible, honestly. Thank you." You can barely believe its real. Turning to Eddie you give him a kiss on his lips, soft and lingering.

"No problem pretty girl. Lay back down lemme wrap it for you."

Hopping back onto the leather chair, you lay back on your elbows, watching him cover your new tattoo with plastic wrap and surgical tape.

"Thank you again, I love it. Shall we go?"

"Oh sweet thing, you're not going anywhere."

You look at him in confusion. He takes his gloves off, hungry eyes transfixed on your heat.

"I've sat here, inches away from this pretty pussy, looking at this cute little wet patch and I can't take it anymore. I can fuckin' smell you sweetheart, it's not fair."

A flush blooms over the apples of your cheeks, thighs clenching at his filthy words.

"Scoot down for me."

You wiggle your hips until you're at the edge of the reclined seat, skirt bunching up in the process. Eddie kneels before you and peels your underwear off, carefully avoiding your new ink. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving the hip with the tattoo alone.

"Now I'm gonna be gentle and you can't move, ok? Don't want you smudging." He winks at his joke and starts pressing delicate kisses over your pussy, hot breath tickling you. His tongue pushes into your folds so slowly, running up and down with a languid place. You moan and shudder at the feeling, intensity magnified by how on edge you'd been, waiting for this for hours. Every agonisingly slow movement sent tingles to your core, warmth spreading to the tips of your toes.

High pitched mewls and whines fill the room when Eddie turns his attention to your clit, teasing it gently with his tongue stud, hard nub sending thrilling tendrils of pleasure deep inside you.

"Eddie, fuck that's so good." You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

Eddie hums into you, continuing to make out lazily with your cunt, his own moans swallowed up by your heat.

Impossible, unimaginable feeling floods your system; it was as if every nerve was singing, blending together into a choir of pleasure. The intensity, the passion, the emotion he was conveying between your legs was pushing you to a precipice, looking down at your potential release from a dizzying height.

It was all too much. Tears fall down your soft cheeks, utterly caught up in so much feeling.

"Eddie, I can't, its, it's too much-"

Hot breath on your cunt, "it's ok, sweet thing, I've got you, let go."

He takes your clit in between his lips and kisses, and kisses, and kisses. Pressing his tongue to it one final time he suckles softly and pushes you over that edge.

Stars collide. Your release meanders through your very soul, ripping away any semblance of breath, clenching and coming with a silent cry, tears still falling. It flows, collects itself and continues, pleasure in perpetuity, leaving no part of you untouched by its warmth. The feeling finally dissipates, leaving you breathless, thoughtless.

You're not sure how long it took for you to return to yourself, but when you do Eddie's pressing the softest kisses to your cheek, lips, nose, even your eyelids. Your eyes flutter open, wet and glossy, and full of feeling for the man in front of you.

"Hey pretty girl."

"Hey baby." You smile softly.

He grins right back; its the first time you've called him a pet name.

"Stay at mine tonight?"

"I might have to, pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had. I may need a wheelchair."

He laughs, cocky grin firmly in place. "I could carry you to the car if its that bad..."

"I'll manage I'm sure." You get up, wobbly as a baby deer but upright. He steadies you, strange look in his you're not used to.

"Eddie, can you pass me my underwear?"

"What underwear?" He's trying to pull a serious face but his mischievous eyes betray him.

"Eddie!" You hit him on the arm. He just laughs in response.

You huff, and smile, and squeal inside at the sheer joy of the moment.

Masterlist

❤ If you want to be added to my tag list please comment/reblog and say so sweet thing (tag list in comments as it's grown arms and legs) ❤

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robot-roadtrip-rants · 2 months

Text

something that doesn't come up very often in the How Bad Is Emps discussion is that he's. he's really old. millennia old. there's no way his sense of time isn't flagrantly broken. i mean look at him! every time we get an immediate perspective on him the dude is making plans with thousand-year timeframes. all of his buddies (well, ex-buddies) are perpetuals. emps has more in common with the eldar or the necrons when it comes to sense of time than he does with literally any non-perpetual, and that includes the primarchs.

just think about it. the primarchs are, what, three centuries old at Ullanor? they're BABIES. ok, maybe they're not babies, they're clearly old enough for simple tasks like systematic genocide and aggressive expansion, but c'mon, they haven't even reached their first millennium. of course emps isn't going to burden them with adult concerns like the encroaching threat of Chaos, or the potential dangers as humans evolve into a psyker species, or the existential challenges imposed by their warp-entity-wearing-flesh natures. they're kids! let them be kids! their brains are still growing, probably.

so yeah, emps holds off on some big conversations. and yeah, he ducks out of the crusade to go work on the webway by himself, what's wrong with that? it's just a few decades! he's spent more than a thousand years uniting humanity, surely he deserves a little time to himself. from emps's perspective, he's just spending an afternoon building a treehouse in his workshop. the kids are old enough to know better than to stick forks into electrical outlets, they'll be okay for an evening. horus you're a responsible guy, you're in charge.

but then like five minutes later magnus fucking bursts through the wall like the kool aid man screaming bloody hell about horus and then the hole he made starts puking daemons everywhere and yeah emps loses his temper and yells but he was gone for FIVE MINUTES. and now there's daemons all over his workshop! magnus what the fuck! only magnus fled as soon as emps started yelling without explaining a damn thing. also the hole is still puking daemons. ok, ok, emps will stay in the workshop and try to fix the hole before everything is covered in daemons, but he still needs to figure out what the hell is going on. leman, you're an obedient kid, hell you're always boasting about it, surely YOU'LL listen. go get magnus--yeah, i know you don't get along, this isn't the time--go get magnus and bring him here so he can explain himself.

emps goes back to the hole and--leman did WHAT? magnus did WHAT? HOW DID THEY FUCK UP BASIC INSTRUCTIONS. hang on, what's this about an isstvan. horus is rebelling? fucking HORUS??? nine legions????? HALF THE ARMY????? wtf wtf wtf oh shit it's chaos isn't it. emps looked away for five minutes and chaos got its claws in his boys. it's been six years. that's like a bathroom break. how did the boys break everything in SIX YEARS???

#warhammer 40k #the emperor 40k #jokes aside i do think this played a role

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 5 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

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lizardsfromspace · 6 days

Note

What's the worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years, and what's the worst thing about fandom that's always been true of it?

The worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years has been the incentivizing of fandom-as-conflict: not merely as a field in broader culture wars but as the field for endless intra-group battles.

This manifests in many ways: as seven hour videos complaining about The Last Jedi, as Twitter backlash campaigns, but also as stans defending their faves from any and all criticism real or imagined, as the endless boom-and-backlash cycle to any fandom meme or joke you see on Reddit, and as the drive for people to look for evidence other people discussing a thing they like are hysterical illiterate dolts, before anything else.

Or, in other words: a lot of fandoms are full of assholes these days, whose main interaction with fandom is using it as a reason to be an asshole, and to defend being an asshole. The actual “fandom” part of fandom no longer really exists for them. The discourse more or less is their fandom; someone whose main fandom activity is sharing videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) isn’t in the Steven Universe fandom, they’re in the videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) fandom. I mean, the chief fandom for many people is their side in the fandom war. What type of fanfic you write is secondary to what your affiliations are vis-a-vis battles over fanfiction

(One trend I've noticed is people who aren't at the stage where they only talk about what they hate and not what they love, but are at the stage where they can only talk about what they love in relation to what they hate. "I love this movie...and it proves this other movie is bullshit made by a hack". No ability to say just "I love this movie", period, end of sentence. This is how like two-thirds of Film Twitter talks about film, the remainder are all the grindhouse people going "man you've GOT to see Wrong Turn 5")

Another one, that I think is related, is that fandom’s become...more transitory, maybe? There’s Big Fandoms that are inescapable and then everything else feels like it’s here for a weekend and then it’s gone. And we’ve always had fandoms that endure and fandoms that vanish quickly, when the show runs short or turns out to be bad/boring, but we did use to have a lot of enduring if small fandoms for Okay shows most people hadn’t heard of and now you don’t really. Or they burn themselves out fast.

So we’ve reached this stage where fandoms are either so big they have seven hour long discourse videos, or they’re a smattering of fanart over the course of two weeks last August. But that isn’t really the fault of fans so much as modern media release schedules.

A lot of fandom activities of old are just...impossible now, with many shows? The slow build of speculation and fan works and in-jokes and theorizing and analysis simply can’t exist in a world where the premiere comes out the same day as the finale, and you can’t talk about the finale because you have no way of knowing if the person you’re talking to binged it all in one weekend or is still on episode four. That was the kind of thing that sustained the fandom of something that wasn’t a big hit, or even something that was. My fave fandom experience ever was watching the online Lost fandom wildly theorizing for all six years of Lost, and we’d never get “and what if the Smoke Monster is a dinosaur but only the head?” under a Netflix release model. Now at a base level, we either have shows nobody can discuss because nobody’s sure who’s seen or what, or shows where everyone just discusses the finale right away, and where you get One Week of Show and then a massive hiatus, which either kills all momentum or...drives fandom in the direction of hyper-analyzing everything and fighting because, well, what else is there to do? And that plus the outrage cycles of social media plus the fact that “man who yells at Star Wars” is now a viable career choice result in, well. *gestures upwards* All that

(Really, shout out to Cartoon Network for engineering the Steven Universe fandom to Be Like That through their inscrutable strategy of dropping episodes during one random week every five months or whatever)

As for something that's always been with it...cliques and a certain fannish elitism, like, that sees engaging with media in a fandom sense as more creative or analytical or intelligent than your average person. You see it now in the form of, like, people holding up fanfic above published fiction as more representative or authentic (I’ve seen more than one post on here strongly implying queer rep doesn’t exist in mainstream non-fic storytelling???), or going “well, we think about shows, unlike those normies watching sports”. But that was probably way more pronounced a thing in the past, in the 40-50s sci-fi fans were calling non-fans "mundanes" and calling themselves "slans" as an in-group signifier (a reference to a book with superintelligent psychic mutants known as slans). Like at the very least we should be happy no one’s calling non-fans “muggles” anymore. In the evolution from “mundane” to “muggle” to “normie” normie’s probably the least bad one

#asks #fandom #schafpudel #long post

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priniya · 5 months

Text

🎥 ACTRESS’ SAVIOUR

SYNOPSIS. when doctor reid finds himself enamoured with a certain actress with bright future ahead of her, she gets kidnapped and all he wants to do is save her by any cost.

going to your father’s bureau for the first time could’ve been considered an usual experience, something that could occur on a daily basis — a daughter, stopping by her parent’s workplace to possibly drop him off breakfast he left at home.

for you, on the other hand, it was a stressful occurrence. it was one of the first times at the BAU, where agent hotchner’s been working for years. the reason behind your rare visits there was relatively simple, you weren’t aware you even had a father until you turned sixteen and your mother has passed away. it was, when the social services found out that beside her, you had other living relatives, so… instead of an orphanage, you moved to quantico. building a relationship with a man, who already had a wife and a son, and no idea that his high school relationship has resulted in a kid, was rough. but here you were, six and a half year later, nervously standing inside the elevator, hoping that nothing would go wrong.

however, it had to go, you wouldn’t be yourself if everything went smoothly. as you looked into your phone to check a notification that popped up on the screen, you were met with a person — too quickly to realise that you were bound to bump into someone. the man in front of you was holding a half–empty cup of steaming coffee that other half spilled all over his brown sweater. a flush washed over you immediately, having taken a notice of what just happened.

“i am so sorry, sir.” your nervousness reached its peak the second your eyes laid on the man in front of you. he was tall, definitely taller than you, almost towering over you, glasses were resting on the bridge of his nose as he grimaced. from the plastic plate on his chest you read his name. spencer reid.

“well, uh. it’s alright.” he muttered, walking past you to change out of his stained piece of clothing, giving you all the reasons to overthink this situation, feeding your anxieties.

the confident attitude you tried to put on was now long gone as you made it through to your father’s office. it was a struggle, because you couldn’t remember how to get there, but when you did, your cheeks flushed even more upon seeing spencer, standing next to your dad, his stained shirt nowhere to be found. “excuse me, uh–” you started, announcing your presence, earning a few curious looks. “dad, you left the breakfast at home.”

“dad?” you heared a female voice whisper, and you swore your guts to know that she looked around the room for an answer, while, unfortunately for her, being left with nothing more than a shrug. the last name on the plastic clipped onto your shirt didn’t match with their boss’, which only confused them more.

hotch cleared his throat, giving you the tiniest smile as he took the brown bag from you. “y/n, these are special agents morgan, prentiss, rossi, garcia and doctor reid. you already know jj.” he said, confusing them even more. “this is my daughter, y/n.”

“hey, i know you from somewhere.” a woman spoke out, her colorful dress catching your attention immediately. “oh my gosh, hotch why didn’t you tell me that you’re daughter is playing on the russos life? i love that show!” her words brought heat to your cheeks.

the russos life was your first bigger gig that got you a little bit of recognition in show-busines and social media. at the beginning of your small acting career, you promised yourself that you’d not go to the television, because theatre was your thing. you can’t even recall the moment when your point of view changed, maybe it was after the call from your agent suggesting you that you should take the role, because the producers were already interested. or, most likely it was when you fell in love with a role you were proposed.

you stayed in the conference room (and in the building in general) for the next few minutes. after you had left, the sweet sound of your voice was still lingering in spencer’s mind that somehow went unnoticed by the team. he was sitting at his desk, frowning over something, when the clock hit three and the decision was quickly made in his mind — go grab a sandwich or you’ll go crazy. the funniest thing for people around him (if he ever let them know) might be that he couldn’t quite grasp the reason of his interest in you. reid found his thoughts trailing off to you as he hovered over the raports he was filling out that he almost wrote your name in there. he pushed the door of a nearby cafe open, intuitively scanning the place. his eyes were all over the place until he felt someone at his back.

“shit— sir, i’m sorry, i don’t know what’s happening with me to–” you began to rumble as the man you bumped into turned to face you. your face grew redder, the second you realized it’s the same person you’d bumped into already, which only made you feel more embarrassed.

oh.

“doctor reid, i’m really sorry.” you hoped your words came off as genuine, because they were. it almost seemed like you had some sort of scheme against him that you had to bump into him whenever he’s around. “at least i didn’t have a coffee on me, right?” an awkward smile crept on your lips, trying to ease the situation.

the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as spencer was taking in your beauty. the way your eyes flickered, the way lipgloss coated your lips, the way you had your hands behind your back or the way you tilted your head to get a better view of his face. the height gap between you and spencer wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a little troubling. “thank god, i didn’t exactly have another spare shirt on me.” his repsonse made you chuckle quietly, feeling the embarrassment wash away with each word that left his mouth.

you don’t even know how much time had passed since you started your little conversation with doctor reid. even though you were the one rambling on and on, he has asked you a few times about your job, genuinely interested in what you do on set and what is your show about. he remembered the cheap looking show lila had played in, back when the bau had her case. you told him all about the plays you partook throughout the entirety of your school year and he dumped all the facts he knew about the plays on you.

you could see yourself getting fond of his presence around you, it felt eerily comforting, which for you was strange. until you moved to your dad’s place, you had rare contact with the opposite gender outside the plays, no real father figure, no closer relationship with a guy before, you had never felt so comfortable around a man, who you just met. so… it wasn’t really strange that you ended up exchanging numbers, what could be strange (for reid’s friends) was that he was the first one to call.

he kept calling, while you kept happily responding. it grew to be some sort of your thing, almost as if each of you were one another’s happy place. whenever he got frustrated with a case, he’d call you to take things off his mind, which always went smoothly. spencer was probably the biggest fan of your endless rambling about your classes or people you found annoying during the day.

the phone calls got more and more regular with each week passed, and when you didn’t call him to say good morning one day, his conscience was going absolutely crazy, his guts telling him something was off. nevertheless, his thoughts were pushed aside as his phone rung out with a call from jj, alerting on a new case.

“NYPD asked for our assistance in a possible serial killer case.” jareau explained as she handed the case files to the rest of the team. “over the course of last few days, four females were strangled before the unsub stabbed them multiple times.” she took a long sigh. “each of the girl was around the age of twenty to twenty three, studied in the state and majored in the arts fields, lived alone, but were socially active.”

a shiver ran down spencer’s spine as he heard jennifer’s words. the victimology were too familiar to you, making the unsettling feeling come back to him. pulling out his phone from the deep of his pocket, he managed to send you a quick text, asking to call him as soon as you see his message.

but you didn’t call him back. he was thinking about you all the time they were gathering more information, but there was some that shocked the team the most. the letters craved on each of the victims’ bodies. at first it seemed… like random letters, a code maybe.

“what if it’s an anagram?”

after that, spencer wrote the letters on the board, his throat tightening when the realisation hit him. the letters could be put in as your first and last name. “hotch, uh, i– can we talk, in private?” he muttered, before leavng the room the NYPD set up for them. his hands were shaking as he paced around the room, trying to find the right words to tell hotchner about his theory.

“y/n and i have been talking lately.” spencer started. “i–i got this strange feeling today, she often texted me in the mornings, almost every day in the past few days and–and she didn’t do that today.” he took a deep breath, flattering his brown shirt. “maybe i’m biased, but i think something bad happened to her, the anagram was– it was her name, hotch.” his words were falling out of his lips almost too fast for your dad to understand.

but aaron hotchner has always been the smartest guy out there, the meaning behind spencer’s words almost immediately got to him, because once again his child was in danger, he had a feeling, when he learnt the victimology, but when spencer said those words, his suspicions were confirmed. “reid. i need you to go to her apartment, i suppose you know the address?”

fifteen minutes later, young doctor was at the door of your apartment. it wasn’t exactly the first time he was there, but it didn’t matter now, not when you could be in danger with a serial killer, looking for you. “y/n?” he knocked on the door three times, when he got no answer, he did the morgan speciality, kicking the door open.

your entire flat was quiet, completely out of place. the last time he was there, around two weeks ago, it wasn’t as neat as it was right now. you had your scripts scattered around the coffee table, pillows disheveled on the couch, dishes laying around the counter, although now, everything was clean. almost too clean. then he found it, a small piece of paper underneath a cup that you made him coffee in.

you won’t keep us apart.

he recognised the fact that your handwriting was different, even though you liked keeping your place a little more messy, often calling it ‘artist’s mess’, your handwriting was neat and precise. you didn’t write this note.

“sir? you’ve gotta take a look at that.”

the last thing you remember was walking down the street, a phone in your hand about to send a quick message to reid that you’d call him as soon as you get to your flat. it was a habit of yours, texting the young doctor to give him a notice you’d call to ramble about your day. just the thought of talking to him had given you butterflies, a thought of hearing his voice after a long day at university and on set was enough to make your day better. you were about to send the message, when a guy bumped into you with so much force you barely kept yourself on ground. before you knew it, you felt an overwhelming rush of pain, passing out soon after.

your consciousness was regained, but the place wasn’t familiar. a small room with window covered with a black fabric that didn’t let any light inside. the walls had pictures stuck all over them. pictures of you, from at least four months back. each day when you were coming back from campus, there was a photo, of you at the library, at the club with your friends, going back from school, even one that captured how you giggled at one of spencer’s facts, when he visited you.

the level of anxiety peaked, when the person who locked you up came back, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, the one you loved so dearly, the one’s your mom had always put up in vases at your house, the one you got from your manager after wrapping up the season one of the russos life. “we’re sorry.” he spoke out, his voice hoarse, cracking here and there.

“but we’re finally together, y/n/n.” he whispered, getting closer to you with each word. “no one will be able to keep us apart. we’re together, for eternity.” his hand grapped your jaw to make you look at him, his lips barely inches apart.

you could feel the overwhelming pain washing over you again, realizing that he probably stabbed you back there on the street — with that realisation, it hurt even more.

his hands were rough on your skin, almost leaving a burnt mark on your cheeks. he caressed it, trying to maintain a gentle manner, causing you to tear up. “please, let me go.” you whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. “please.” his rough, yet gentle hand slapped you across the face, attitude changing immediately.

“no.” he groaned angrily, gripping your jaw even harder than the first time. “you’re not leaving. not when we’re finally together. eternity, sun. together for eternity.” his words almost burnt into your mind.

how long were you there? days, weeks, months maybe. you couldn’t know. the lack of sun, barely any food and water was driving you crazy, nevertheless, right when he left you alone, you realized something that came up to you as a moral of reid’s story he told you about a certain case with a man obsessed with a woman. you had to play into his fantasy, no matter how it hurt and how painful it was, it was necessary to gain his trust.

and you did, played right into his delusional fantasy of you until he trusted you enough to make a mistake. leaving the door unlocked. you left in such a hurry, you couldn’t breathe. the air was suffocating, it was dark, so dark you felt scared that someone would attack you again.

“oh my, miss, are you okay? you’re bleeding.” a lady called out to you, grabbing your shoulder in a soft manner, the presence of a female soothing your nerves a little.

“i– i need to make a phone call, please, could i use your phone?” before you knew it, you were dialing one of the numbers you memorised by heart.

“doctor spencer reid, can i help you with anything?” his monotonous voice rang out in the phone, causing you to sigh in relief. “sorry?” he added. you imagined him frowning, like when he tried to teach you how to play chess and you kept giggling at how frustrated he was getting, while you pretended to not know a thing about chess.

“spence.” another escaped left your lips. “i– i don’t know where i am. i know you’re in quantico, put please help me out, there’s a guy, who—” you started rambling, your vision getting blurry.

“y/n, i know.” he whispered. “we’re in new york, garcia’s tracking your location right now, please stay on the call with me.”

“spence,” you started, holding onto the woman next to you for stability. “i– he’s done something to me, i think– i think, i might pass out.” your tone was quieter with each words, almost stuttering as you felt your limbs weakening.

your world was crushing down on you, the nearby buildings suffocating you, not letting you breathe, the stab wounds overwhelming. the next thing you knew, you were in the hospital, machinery plugged into you, your eyelids heavy as you opened them.

“you’re awake.” a familiar voice filled your eardrums as you tried propping up on the bed, stopped by the ripping pain. “hey, hey. don’t move, you’re okay.” his hand was in his, holding you so gently and tenderly you wanted to cry. it wasn’t like their unsub’s, doctor reid was genuine, the way he held your hand was almost… symbolical.

you had four stab wouds on your stomach that the man wrapped into a foil to stop you from bleeding out, but it ripped when you ran away. your face was bruised, marks left by his hands visible on your upper neck and jaw.

“you’re okay.” he repeated his words almost as if spencer tried to reassure himself that nothing would happen to you anymore. definitely not on his watch. “i won’t let him do anything to you again, i promise.” he planted a tender kiss on your hand, squeezing it softly. none of you realized that the rest of spencer’s team, including your father, was standing in the doorway, observing the little moment between you and doctor reid.

the one thing that burst your bubble was derek’s laughter, after having told a joke that obviously involved you, spencer and the fact that he was the first one you called after getting out of the unsub’s place. “looks like pretty boy stole your daughter from you, hotch.” morgan’s elbow nudged your dad’s side.

aaron wasn’t dumb, and from the very beginning, he knew that there would be something going on between the two of you. hotch knew that from the way reid’s lingered on you, when you visited the bureau. how his eyes would always slip to his phone or how he had to get away from the office to make a phone call, lasting all through his lunch break, so when four days ago he told his boss about the suspicions, it all came together.

“i know it’s early, but you have to tell us if you remember everything from those days.” your dad’s tone was soft. if he wasn’t so good at this job, you’d think he tried to make you relive the moment again, but hotch has always been great and you knew it, he wanted to catch the person who did this to you.

“it was, uh.” the words coming out of your mouth was weak, which was no surprise for anyone, since you could barely have your head up to look at the concerned faces of people in your room. “a white guy, his late twenties maybe. i don't remember much beside his hands. i thought of it as something that maybe would let you catch him.”

“what about his hands, sweetheart?” morgan asked. he was standing next to prentiss and rossi, who noted all the important things you said. “did he lack any fingers? had only one hand?"

“no, no.” you shook your head. "spencer told me that, um, most of the sophisticated killers have smooth hands. his weren’t smooth at all. it was rough, like if he was working since he was a kid.” images were flashing through your mind at the speed of light. nevertheless, it didn't feel enough. “it looked like he was in the middle of psychotic break or was off meds, he kept using plural pronouns like if there was another person, but he was alone the whole time i was there.”

when the interview was done, jj stayed behind to talk to you a little. her facial expression revealing that she was interested in your friendship with the young doctor from her team. “so… spencer told you?” she lifted her eyebrows, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed.

“yeah…” your reply sounded a little sheepish. “i kind of ran into him twice, when i came to your office half a year ago, the first time i was too embarrassed to say anything other than ‘i’m so sorry, sir’, but the second time was on his break, i think and it kind of… went smoothly from there.” a blush spread over your cheeks, but jennifer didn’t comment on that.

“you’d look cute together.” her words made your brain go a little fuzzy. maybe she was right, but something in your gut told you that nothing would be happen between the two of you, spencer was the type of guy in love with his work, not a random girl he met on a random tuesday. although, his mind was an enigma, how could you be so sure of that?

“c’mon, jj.” you mumbled, looking away. “we’re friends, strictly platonic.”

the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was there, even after the unsub was caught two days after you were free to leave the hospital. it was only growing, when you were alone with a man you weren’t exactly close with. as bad as it made you feel, being around your dad’s co–workers was almost paralysing. morgan, rossi, the cops involved in your case, who tried talking to you about the entire thing, it was making your hands shake.

“spence?” you whispered, after having knocked on the door of his hotel room, a day before they left.

he opened the door immediately, almost as if his guts told him you were on the other side. he looked like you’d just woken him up. his hair all over the place, his gaze sleepy. a t–shirt loose on his body as he pulled you inside, closing the door behind you. “hey, sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up, thought you’d be still up.” you couldn’t bring yourself to speak louder.

“i had a feeling you’d swing by.” his words made your cheek grow hotter, because to be honest… you were thinking about seeing him, laying down on the bed unable to sleep. “what’s on your mind?” he asked, bringing his hand to your chin, causing you to look at him.

“are all the profilers doing that?” you asked, mesmerised by the way his eyes roamed around your face, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

“subconsciously, yeah.” you chuckled. “don’t go off topic. something is bothering you, you know i see it.”

“i just… wanted to see you.” embarrassment rolled off your tongue, knowing that probably lots of women had already told him that. mostly, because morgan told you about the time, when prostitutes tried hitting on him during one of the cases — spencer had his charm, but you couldn’t be sure if he knew. “jesus, you can’t look at me like that, when you’re all that.”

“all that?” reid’s laughter rang in your ears as he made a step towards you, reducing the distance between you two.

“yeah? have you seen yourself before you opened the door? man, i had four stab wounds and—” you began to ramble, but his smirk and the look on his face make you stop, before another chuckle left his lips. “what?”

“nothing.”

“reid!” you groaned, punching him slightly in the arm as he still held your face, tilting it upwards.

seconds later, his mouth were on your, his lips moving against yours tenderly. his free hand squeezing your waist gently, pushing you even closer. it was the first time you felt any type of comfort in the past few days. you were completely speechless as the kiss broke off, looking at him with big eyes.

“i– you–.” you stuttered.

“it’s funny, you usually can’t stop rambling, but now you’re a stuttering mess.” he chuckled once again, his arms firm, yet gentle on your waist as he continued to tease you with a smirk that wouldn’t get off his face.

“i thought if i did something wrong, i’d not see you again.” he whispered, his nose brushed against yours. your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity. “it made me realise how many things i should’ve done before, how important you became to me, y/n. i can’t go on without a thought of you in my mind, you’re like a plague that i don’t– that i’d never get rid of.”

“i know this job is hectic and that i’m a mess most of the time, but you’re the only one that keeps me sane after what i see.” his lips brushed against yours again and you didn’t protest.

“so… you’re saying that you can’t stop thinking about me.” it was your turn to smirk at him, your heart tingling with a feeling unknown, yet so familiar that always appeared around him. “i can’t stop thinking about you, too, you know. i, uh, had this feeling that if i get out, you’d be there somewhere to keep me safe.”

“i am, and i always will, promise.”

“is it you asking me out right now?” a quiet giggle escaped your mouth, earning a hum in return. “only if you’re gonna say yes.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #niki’s works 🫂

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alpurrtwhizkersss · 1 year

Note

Omg you're taking six of crows requests?!?

Can I get a Kaz x fem!reader where the two of them are a couple (or trying to be) like Kaz is less snappy towards her, they're working on his touch aversion and everything.

But then on a heist gone wrong reader is hurt/stabbed/shot and falls into the Harbour, and Kaz is terrified because of the water but he's more terrified of losing his girl and he realizes that none of the other crows will reach her in time so he dives into the water to save her and when he drags her back onto the dock they just hug each other and the reader is apologizing for ruining the heist, Kaz is just holding her tightly and telling her it's ok, she's safe and that's how the rest of the crows find them, curled up at the end of the dock. Maybe some soft kisses?

Kaz trying to deal with his trauma in ways like this makes me happy

His Star

Requested By: anonymous!

Warnings: Drowning, reader gets stabbed in the arm, Kaz deals with some trauma flashbacks/anxiety, possibly OOC Kaz.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Prompt: None

She/Her pronouns used to refer to reader.

Author’s Note:

hey!! sorry this one took so long, I haven't written for Kaz for a WHILE so I hope this meets your request!

Word Count: 1321

Kaz loved you.

Or, at least, you thought he did. He had never told you explicitly, but then, the ruthless young man had never told many people of his affections for them, choosing instead to close himself off to the world instead of facing his feelings.

Despite the mask he put over his emotions every day, you could still tell he loved you through the way he treated you, how he didn’t snap at you like he snapped at the other crows, and the way he looked at you.

Oh, how he looked at you.

Kaz Brekker looked at you as though he was a tired man, bound to the ground of the earth, weak and broken, and you were a star in the dark, endless sky waiting to lead him home, your brightness and your beauty incomparable to anything else.

There were many times Kaz had wanted to touch you, to reach his gloved hand out and graze it against your cheek, or to squeeze your thigh for comfort as you sat beside him, but he couldn’t. He feared that if he did, it would bring everything back. Bring Jordie’s death back. And the possibility was too painful to try.

You understood, of course, you would never push him to do anything he didn’t want to, so you left it alone. You never asked, you barely even thought, because even the idea of making Kaz uncomfortable or upset made guilt squeeze your heart sharply. You would listen if he brought up the idea, but you’d never do it yourself. You’d never put that burden on him over something he couldn’t control.

So you made do with what you had, you loved him in other ways, helping him with planning heists, gathering information to make his job easier, making sure he ate, checking up on him every so often (despite his protests), giving him small smiles across the Crow Club when you could see he was getting frustrated. Little things that made your presence known, but that didn’t intrude too much on his life, and you were happy that way.

“Y/N!” Jesper’s voice broke your thoughts as you slid down the rain-soaked tiles of the building you were scaling, landing gracefully on your feet as you shot along the gutter at the bottom and leaped onto the next one.

“What?” You yelled, hoping he would catch it over the raging wind, but all you heard in response was silence, and you realised you could no longer hear the cracking of his boots against the tile.

Risking a look behind you, you caught your gaze on Jesper’s long figure clambering back up the roof, two others, Inej and Wylan, caught your eye as well, though, where Kaz was you had no idea, and you skidded to a halt, stopping for a moment as you watched the security of the bank you’d just attempted to rob begin gaining on you, their yells rising far above the torrential weather, you watched the other Crows running along the top of the roof, you only caught on to why they were doing this as you turned back, and felt a swift, violent pain crash through your upper arm, you let out an ear piercing scream as the shock and pain overwhelmed you, making your vision blur and your knees buckle underneath you. Almost as soon as you made a noise, you heard Jasper’s pistols shoot rounds into your attacker’s body, quickly able to take out some other guards from his high-up position, yet nobody came to save you as your body tumbled into the freezing harbour water that cascaded against the walls of the bank.

Kaz yelled your name as he watched you disappear off the side of the roof and into the waters below. He had already chosen to stay behind when he realised that you had not heard Jesper’s call to retreat upwards, and he thanked the Saints that he did when he began racing towards the edge of the roof, still screaming your name as he searched for your body in the blackness beneath him.

For the first time in a while, Kaz took a sharp, relieved inhale at the sight of your head poking above the water, and soon your arms came thrashing with it.

As you caught sight of Kaz, you began yelling, mostly unintelligible words, but he heard his name ring in his ears, and he swore he felt his heart tear itself out of his chest when he recognised the fear in your voice.

The fear in your voice that brought him back to that night. With Jordie. Jordie and the boat. And the eerie silence only broken every so often by the groans of the wood and the shifting of clothes against the bodies of the victims that the plague had so cruelly taken.

No. Kaz scolded himself. Stop. Stop, you have to help Y/N. She’ll die if you don’t help her.

He didn’t give himself time to think again before throwing himself into the freeze after you, and almost immediately he felt the same horrible effect that he felt that night with Jordie begin to take hold.

He pushed through it as he kept his mind on you. He couldn’t let you die.

If you died, he didn’t know what he would do with himself, he likes to tell himself that he could get through anything. That grief didn’t affect him anymore.

But with you? You were his star, and if you weren’t there anymore, his sky would go dark.

Kaz could hear your sobs echoing through the night air as he pulled himself through the current and closer to you. Almost as soon as he touched your skin with his gloved hands, he had to stop himself from letting the panic take over, soon becoming grounded once again by your whimpers and pleas for help.

“C-come here, Y/N.” He stammered out, the temperature of the water mixed with the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his speech slurred and awkward as he pulled you towards his chest.

You soon found yourself approaching the harbour, and Kaz made it his first priority to hoist your body up onto the wooden decking, quickly pulling himself up after.

As soon as you were safely out of the water, you backed yourself up against a wall, leaning to the side to cough up what you’d managed to inhale during your panic. Kaz soon made his way over to you, rubbing your back gently as you grasped the wall for support, before falling back against it, still shaking with the sobs that left your lips. You soon felt Kaz move his hand hesitantly to the back of your neck, before taking a deep breath and pulling you in closer to him, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry…” You cried, taking the collar of his soaked jacket into your hands as he shushed you. “I’m so, so sorry, Kaz, I- I ruined everything. I’m so useless-” You buried your head in his jacket as he shook his head, staring down at you with as serious a stare as he could manage, despite his heart rate going at 30 miles per hour.

“No, no, Y/N, stop it. You didn’t ruin the heist. It was doomed from the start, it was a stupid idea anyway. All that matters is that you’re safe, do you understand me? You’re alright, and you’re with me, and nothing’s going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice managed to soothe your racing heart and mind, and your gentle nods soothed his own as he dared to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

That was how the Crows found you both that night. Kaz wrapped protectively around you, every so often placing gentle kisses to your hair, and you, his star, encased safely in his arms, having never felt so much love from anybody in your life.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #x reader #self insert #reader insert #six of crows #soc #shadow and bone #leigh bardugo

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hairyjocktf · 8 days

Text

Greek Vacation

It was finally June, and Alex could barely sleep. He’d worked his ass off the last year in college to avoid having to take summer classes, which meant he could join the rest of his family on their trip to Greece. His mom had apparently won tickets or miles or something through her job, he couldn’t remember. All that mattered was he was going to Greece! It was finally time to relax and unwind from the insanely stressful last few months. He’d gone over his packing list six, seven times now; he was absolutely sure he was ready. His family was meeting him at the airport, so he was just pacing now, waiting on that text to start moving. The phone on the countertop buzzed and he lunged for it. It was time.

Alex grabbed his oversized suitcase and lugged it down the stairs of his apartment building out to the street. He hopped on the bus and found a seat. He was giddy, this trip was his dream trip as a kid, and now he was finally getting to go. He’d helped plan out their whole itinerary, from the Acropolis to the ruins at Delphi and so so many more. Before he knew it, they were dropping him at the airport. Inside the chaotic lobby he managed to spot his parents, his dad was already wearing a massive sun hat which helped. The next hour was a blur getting their bags checked, through security, and corralling everyone to the gate. Then began the longest part of the trip: the flight. Alex had brought noise canceling headphones and an extra strong dose of melatonin that he prayed would do the job. And miraculously, it did. Nearly ten hours later he woke up to the sounds of the plane landing, and next thing he knew they were in a cab headed into Athens.

The cab pulled up to their hotel, depositing them and their bags at the foot of a beautiful white building with a grand entrance. This part was his mother’s domain. She ushered everyone inside and got them to their room in no time. Alex was unpacking and setting his stuff out when he realized he couldn’t find his phone charger. He tore everything out of his suitcase and backpack, trying desperately to find it. Nothing. He must’ve left it in his haste getting out the door, after all his phone was plugged in while he was waiting.

Shit, he thought, before solemnly announcing the news to his family.

“We’ll stop by a store or something and get you a new one, it's fine,” his mother said, buried in her own suitcase. What a start to the trip. Alex sat on the side of his bed looking out the window at the building next door, kicking his legs waiting for them to get going. Finally, after another 30 minutes, they were getting back out the door.

Alex and his family started wandering through the massive metropolis of Athens, surrounded by white buildings and the intense noise of a city. Only a few blocks away they came upon a massive street market, with locals selling everything imaginable. Fruits, street food, bags, shirts, phones, you name it. Surely, Alex thought, they would sell a phone charger here. He squeezed up and down through tight corridors of shops, flooded with people. He was deep into the market when his path was blocked with a crowd. He turned around, only to find the way he came in also packed tight with tourists. He was stuck. As panic started to set in, Alex heard a deep, husky voice from the stall behind him.

“You there, tourist boy,” the voice said, and Alex whipped around to see a large man with dark olive skin, and the hairiest body he’d ever seen. It was on his fingers, hands, forearms, and crawled out of his open shirt solidly up to the thick bushy beard on his face that nearly hid all his features. Alex was frozen, taking in the sight of this man. He was snapped out of his daze by the man speaking again.

“You look tired, boy. Did you just arrive?” he looked Alex in the eyes.

Alex was jumbling his words, “Uh, yes, yea I did. But I slept! I shouldn’t be tired.. I don’t think…”

The man grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. “Here boy, this will help you,” he said in his thick accent. He took out a small beaded bracelet and slipped it onto Alex’s wrist, tying it tight.

“Uhh, thanks?” Alex remarked, a little confused about the whole situation. The moment was interrupted by his mother’s voice piercing through the crowd.

“Alex!! Alex!! Are you over here?” Alex jerked his head towards the voice, starting to back away from the man.

“Enjoy your trip, boy,” the man said, releasing his arm and giving a slight wave. Alex turned away and pushed through the throng of people in his way, eventually reaching his mother.

“Alex! Thank god you’re okay, we lost you immediately. Here, we found someone selling chargers,” she handed him a cord, not even noticing the bracelet on his wrist. “Alright, let’s get back on track today, shall we?” she put some pep in her voice. As the family squeezed through the crowded Athenian streets, Alex failed to notice a slight itch where the bracelet clung to his wrist.

The summer sun beat down on them as they slowly made their way up the hills of Athens. Alex was sweating buckets, the back of his shirt absolutely drenched. He looked over in envy at his dad’s sun hat that he had mocked earlier. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the base of the acropolis. Alex’s dad groaned at the sight of not only immense crowds, but another massive rock they had to climb. Alex was undeterred however, his eyes lit up with the sight of the ruins atop the hill. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he let nothing get in his way as he dragged his family into the crowd to get closer. The slight itch under the bracelet continued, unbeknownst to Alex. His skin under it was darkening to an olive shade, slowly creeping up his arm and down towards his hand. Where the darker tone had spread, hairs began popping up, thick black hairs in contrast to his light brown wispy hairs. They continued to sprout, growing in between the last, creating a dense, curly coat. The back of his hand was next, the same black hairs wriggling out. Soon enough, his forearm stuck out like a sore thumb next to the rest of his pale body, yet no one seemed to notice.

The next couple hours were heaven for Alex. He explored the acropolis with his family, pointing out everything he’d researched and explaining even more. Between the numerous ruins and museums, the rest of the day was jam packed with artifacts. Alex even found himself remembering facts about spots he didn’t remember researching. The other constant of the day was the sun. It beat down on them from above with the full force of a Mediterranean summer, sweat constantly dripping from his forehead. It seemed like significantly more than usual for Alex, but he chalked it up to the different climate, and how much they’d been walking. Under his soaked shirt, however, his body was adapting. The deep olive color had spread all the way up his arm, with the forest of hair following, coating his upper arm. The hairs crawled over his inflating shoulder, sprinkling it with black wisps. His bicep has also grown substantially, almost like he was a regular gym-goer, matching his now beefier hand and forearm.

The sun-kissed shade continued to spread, imposing itself over his chest. Not long after, his chest began growing. It pushed out two meaty pecs, skin stretching to accommodate the immense muscles growing in slowly. His chest was sore as years of workouts applied themselves at once. The crisp definition melted somewhat as his form softened, fat layering itself onto his chest and further down as a thick muscle gut grew in. His stomach pressed tight against his shirt, stretching it to its limit. As the muscle pushed out of his frame, so did the hairs. Small black hairs began rearing their heads around his growing nipples, pushing out like thick shoots of grass. The hairs radiated away from his nipples, surging across the open fields of his pectorals, burying them in a black, curly forest. They grew longer and thicker, matting together into a rug across his chest that scratched against his shirt. The fur coat grew denser in the center of his pecs and right below, making them look like real pillow cushions. His gut tingled as the hairs began erupting, swirling together and giving his belly a thick black coat to match. By the time Alex and his family were headed to dinner it looked like he’d eaten plenty, putting on dozens of pounds.

They sat down at a street-side restaurant that Alex had recommended, exhausted after a very active first day. While they browsed the menu, Alex scratched loosely at an itch above the neckline of his shirt. The wave of darker skin tone had slowly been inching up his neck, leading a wave of black hairs. His chest fur had overtaken his collarbone and continued to spread. His neck remained bare until, suddenly, a single dark hair sprouted above his shirt. It was black, thick, and curly. Seconds later, a second hair joined it, shooting out from his shirt collar. More and more began sprouting, giving Alex a thick dark tuft of hair curling over his shirt. This was just the beginning, though. The dark hairs climbed up his neck, following the wave of olive complexion. Alex’s lean face cracked as it widened, jaw growing thick and square. His brow jutted out and his nose grew more prominent as his face took on the darker tone. His wavy brown hair pulled back some, turning black and more curly. The itching grew as a shadow developed across his jaw, darkening as thick stubble emerged from the bare skin. The scruff seemed to age Alex up a good few years, he seemed like a real adult with the stubble, hairy forearms, and chest hair pushing out of his shirt.

As they ate, Alex briefed his parents on their plan for the next day, starting with an early bus out to Delphi. He already knew the exact times, costs, and routes to take for the perfect day. His parents were impressed at how well researched he was, not noticing the dark scruff covering their son’s face. They finished up dinner and caught a cab home, knowing they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.

The next morning came quickly, and with some disgruntled grumbling from his parents, they were off on their bus to Delphi. It was a three hour trip, so they settled into their seats and his parents tried to get a little more rest. Alex stared eagerly out the window, watching the mountains rush past with the sea behind. As the ride went on, he found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like his body was agitated and he couldn’t figure out why. He tried to focus on the beautiful scenery and the maps of their destination instead. In reality, beneath his clothes, the slow moving wave of Mediterranean skin had crossed his muscle gut and reached his groin. It swept through his crotch, seeding the growth of new hair. His existent bush was sparse, and was quickly engulfed by the torrent of dark curly hairs that erupted from the base of his cock, spreading outward. Black hairs wormed out of his skin like weeds coating the entire area, pushing up towards his navel in a triangle pattern, and out onto his thighs.

Alex tried to subtly scratch at the area as the itching grew intense, using his map to hide his meaty hands groping the area. His flaccid cock absorbed the same olive color, and a thick foreskin stretched itself back over the head. It didn’t stay soft for long, engorging and pushing six, seven, eight inches in his pants. Alex shifted again to try and keep comfortable in his seat, but the growing rod was not helping him, leaving a massive imprint on his shorts. His bush continued to thicken, hairs sprouting between others, curling together into an impenetrable forest. The hairs even started climbing the base of his cock, popping out a ways up. There was a thud on the seat when Alex’s balls suddenly inflated to the size of baseballs, his sack growing furry as the same curly black hairs engulfed them. Alex had spread his legs as much as he could, he was practically on top of the guy in the seat next to him, and he was still feeling squeezed. He was about to reach his limit when the bus came to a stop. They had made it.

Like it was instinct, Alex gathered his parents and started their exploration of the site. He took them to the Temple of Apollo, the museum, and the spring. It was another relentlessly hot day, and within minutes he had started sweating buckets. He ignored it to continue guiding his parents around, but it began to take a toll. Underneath his arms, his paltry smattering of hair was starting to soak up some color, growing thicker and darker. The more sweat dripped from his pits the more hair began to shoot out of them, catching the drops and adding to the stench that began to waft from him. Throughout the morning, more and more hairs poked out from under his arms. His beefy arms weren’t able to hide the enormous tufts of hair that were pushing out of his pits, kept nice and damp from the heat.

They stopped briefly for lunch at a spot Alex knew and recommended, taking a break from the heat before they continued walking through the town. Alex scratched at his face, his fingers pulling through a little more hair than they had the night before. The meal was a nice reprieve, showcasing some delicious local cuisine to his parents. He took the chance to explain their next destinations, and before long they were back walking up the hills. Alex was glad he’d worn shorts today, it was brutal even for June. His exposed legs had begun taking on the same tone as the rest of him, no longer standing out as pale twigs. Curly hairs brushed against his shorts as they grew en masse, traveling from his pubes downward. The hairs pushed out of his growing thighs, a burgeoning field of dark curls spreading across them. His calves experienced the same, putting on size before getting engulfed with black hair.

They’d made it to the stadium and viewpoint at the top. Alex left the couple to take in the vista and address his current problem; his shoes were way too tight. Luckily, it seemed he’d worn sandals for the day. He bent over to loosen the straps, giving some breathing room to his now size 15 feet, not noticing the coarse hairs popping out across the tops of them. Even his toes were hairy now. He stood back up and looked out over the valley, scratching his ass that had been a little itchy. The same thick curly hairs had started bursting out of his crack, creating a furry mass between his cheeks. The hairs spread out, growing like weeds over the expanse of his ass. The sweat dripping down his widening back helped the hairs take root, and they shot upward sprouting from the small of his back. His lats grew darker as black fur erupted before climbing up to his neck and blending with the thick coating on his shoulders. The coarse curly hairs grew dense and long enough to push his damp shirt nearly an inch away from his body all around. Curly black hairs poked out of the back of his shirt collar too, mirroring the front side.

The sun had begun to hang lower in the sky, signaling it time to head back to the bus station. Alex’s legs had bulked up enough to handle the constant walking up and down, as he should be used to it by now. He guided the couple back down to the town and they got on their way back to Athens, another multi-hour journey. He felt his seat was even smaller this time, his body having swelled with muscle and mass throughout the day. As the bus bumped along the mountain roads, Alex stared at his reflection in the window. His short beard was pushing out. Hairs grew longer, curling together. More hairs sprouted to fill the gaps, climbing higher on his cheeks. The beard grew incredibly dense, adding another couple years to his face. He finally gave in and scooted over, taking up both seats. The bulky man then closed his eyes for an hour until the familiar noise of Athens began leaking through the windows.

They stopped at the station, and he grabbed the couple’s bags from the rack. WIth that motion, his short sleeve shirt that had been taught against his massive chest all day gave out, bursting open. His thick chest and belly and the incredible rug that covered them were exposed, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him, especially in the summer. He lugged the bags to the curb and handed them over. The woman was exhausted looking, but still had a beaming smile.

“Oh, thank you so much Alexios! You’ve been amazing these last two days.” He swallowed, a large adam’s apple bulging out of his throat, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit to Greece,” he said with a baritone voice and accent.

The man handed him a large stack of bills as a thank you, and the two headed off towards their hotel. Alexios sighed, it had been an exhausting day. And after all that, he needed to prepare for the new tourists he was to guide the next day.

Hey y'all, I was going to start on the poll story but it's been so close I couldn't predict it! So enjoy this race change tf in the mean time. Speaking of which, if you havent yet, go vote in the poll for the next story! There's still 2 days left.

#male tf #hairy tf #bear tf #race change #greek tf #hairy #hair growth #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #beard #my writing

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rboooks · 10 months

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Can you write a dead on main? Something with a bookstore au please!

Now that I know the ship names, you bet I can! I'll try my best to get through the ones I got requested in the past few days.

Jason liked bookstores.

They were a safe haven for him as a child, even when the fancier ones chased him off when he became a street kid. He adores the various series, the smell of books, and the quiet of stores. Often he thought that they were a small pocket to escape reality.

He had always known he could escape between the pages when everything had been terrible.

Maybe that's what lead him to this store even if it was a bit odd.

It was out of the way by the old docks that Joker used to run, thus making it condemned to the rest of the populace.

An old warehouse turned into a three-story bookstore. The entire first floor was aisles placed in side-way lines with the main counter as its center. The second floor had cozy reading nocks, plush futon couches, pillows, and blankets, complete with a small cafe. The rule was that anyone could take a book off the second-floor walls to read for free.

Employees asked to be informed if any food or damage was done to the second floor since the second book only had one copy of each. The owner would pull one off the bottom floor shelves to replace it.

The final floor had various reading rooms, but Jason loved that each room was based on a book. The room was professionally decorated to the point it left visitors feeling like they actually stepped into the world of the book.

Sculptures, playable settings, phenomenal little details the hard die fans could spot, and even sound systems playing sounds that sounded like the world. Jason could only compare it to Disney World or universal studios. The fact that people could rent the rooms for an hour for only fifteen dollars made them much more popular.

The third-floor rooms- ten in total- would rotate between series after a few months. Hence, the rooms were always different, but inside them were recommended books with the same kind of theme that was always the perfect recommendation, or maybe people just wanted to explore a room of their favorites.

Jason had visited the strange little bookstore with Tim after his brother had gone on a date with Bernard there.

Tim and Barnard had rented the "Hogwarts common rooms" room for three hours. Jason had been amazed by how real the four standard rooms looked, how there were even dragons spitting fire in one corner, moving portraits, a sorting hat ceremony, a small teddy bear decorating corner, and even a wand building second. All for only fifteen dollars. Tim had practically been glowing when he came home with his Ravenclaw bear and his own wand.

And maybe Jason is a huge Harry Potter fan; perhaps it was one of the first things he boned with Tim over, so maybe his brother had taken him to have an experience that he compared to the first time Bruce took him to Universal Studios.

Then he ran into the owner while one of the employees had been helping him pick runes to have burned into his wand.

Jason started to come back for an entirely different reason.

"Hi, Jason!" Elle says when she sees him climbing the stairs toward the third floor. She's the store's co-owner and has gotten to know him on a first-name basis due to how often Jason has visited the store in the past year. If they made a reward points system, Jason knows he be the highest one on the chart.

She's sitting at a table that is decorated like a galaxy. The books for these quarters' room themes are on the table's surface, all with a door key under them and a clipboard for the various hours.

Jason's eyes land on Pride and Prejudice, and his heart leaps.

"Hi, Elle. What's the wait time for door seven?"

She smiles, flipping the clipboard to the time slots. "The Ball at Netherfield Park has a lot of openings today. I got a three, four, six, or seven. When shall I fit thee dance card in milord?"

Jason laughs and checks his phone, ensuring he doesn't need to do anything for a while before saying. "Three will be fine. It's only thirty minutes. I'll go get a coffee while I wait."

She nods, writing his name down for three. She then passes him some disclosure forms he has to sign, forgoes the long-winded explanation of the rules, and sends him on his way, promising to send him a reminder text.

"Just so you know, Ball at Netherfield Park comes with a unique costume option. Five extra dollars to go through our costume section, and you can dress up like Mr. Darcy for a full hour."

Jason shakes his head though it's a very tempting offer. "Thanks, Elle but I'm okay with my street clothes today."

The other shrugs and checks her nails- their asexual theme today, he notes- before nonchalantly commenting. "Too bad. Danny really wanted someone to cosplay with him. Jane Austin's books are less prevalent in Gotham than we thought, and he's been dying to wear his Mr. Bingley outfit. I thought you like to, so I told him to come over when you arrive, but I can text him to cancel-"

"Five dollars, you said? For the full outfit or just like a coat?" Jason ignores her smug expression and quickly places a twenty on the table.

"Full outfit. What do you take us for?"

He glares at her just as the man of the hour himself runs up the stairs. Danny Fenton, founder, and co-owner of Ghost Zone Reads. He's in a light blue Regency period man coat that makes his eyes pop. A pair of white pants that hug his hips and thighs in all the right places, black knee boots, and a black gentle top hat.

Jason's knees go weak at the sight of him.

Danny's face is flush from the run, but his whole face lights up when he sees his sister and her guest. "Jason! I'm so glad you choose the Ball at Netherfield Park experience. I can't wait for our dance."

"Dance?" Jason chocks. Elle chuckles.

"You can't experience a Ball at Netherfield without the ball part dingus." She waves a hand at her brother. "Told him Dick canceled on you, so he offered to step in."

Jason never even mentions Dick to her but he's not about to call her out on her lie. She's doing him such a big favor.

"I always wanted to go to a Jane Austin ball!" He says instead, mentally wincing at how lame he sounds. Thankfully Danny's eyes only light up even more as the other man starts explaining the instructional videos installed in the ballroom mirrors so they can learn the real moves of Contra Dancing.

Jason falls just a tad bit more.

(Elle watches with a fond smile as Jason and Danny get lost in Austin's most significant works. She quickly texts her allies in Wayne Manor under the table. This is a big step in the "Make us in-laws" operation; the Fenton and Wayne children started a few months back. They were all tired of watching Danny and Jason dance around each other. Damian's idea to use Jason's favorite author was working fabulously.)

#dc x dp crossover #Ghost Zone Reads #Dead on main #request #jane austin the way to Jason's heart #Danny and Dani run a bookstore based off the idea of Ghost Zone's magic doors #It's a huge success #(Yes Danny kills the joker off screen when the man tries to take his store)

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hoseokhasmyheartxx · 1 year

Text

Nothing's Changed | MYG

*Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader *Word Count: 7.4k I'M SORRY 😳 *Genre: friends to lovers, "only one bed" trope, some angst, fluff, non-idol au, fake dating (ish) au *Warnings: NSFW SMUT, MINORS DNI. alcohol consumption, brief mention of parent death, piv sex, unprotected sex (be smart, you perverts), oral (f receiving), nipple play, a bit of overstimulation if you squint, Yoongi has dirty thoughts frequently, reader has to be convinced kinda, i dunno what else to say except good luck reading this nonsense *Summary: You and Yoongi have been best friends since college. The rest of your friend group wants to go on a couples' trip, leaving you and Yoongi to share a room. But to your surprise, your room only has one bed... will the two of you be able to get through the week without letting the other know how you feel? *A/N: welp, i'm sorry in advance for how long this "drabble" turned out to be. after Yoongi's live yesterday i had way too much motivation and it was just total word vomit inspiration. happy birthday to our gorgeous cat boy! 🐱

Main Masterlist

Eight years ago, you were spending most nights in the study area of your university’s library. The building was empty aside from the few other students scattered around the area, seemingly studying for finals just as you were. You had been sitting at a table at the edge of the room for the last three hours, papers strewn everywhere and your calculus book laid open on the table, head in your hands, feeling entirely defeated. Working the same problem for the last thirty minutes still hadn’t changed your answer, and it was still wrong. You sighed, about to give up for the night, when you heard the sound of a chair scrape against the carpet to your left. Looking up, you saw a familiar face, one you hadn’t spoken to before, but familiar all the same.

Min Yoongi. He was taking the same calculus class as you, and from what you assumed based on the posted class averages over the last few months, he was the one who had been basically floating the entire class thus far. You (and the rest of your class) had barely managed to earn passing grades on every exam you’d taken so far, except for Yoongi. He, on the other hand, had aced everything. You didn’t think there had been one exam that he’d scored less than a 95 on, and it frustrated you. How could calculus come so easy to him, when the rest of you were barely treading water?

“You look desperate. Need some help?” Yoongi asked as he sat in the chair next to you. He looked over at you expectantly, resting his elbows on the table, the thumb and index finger of one hand holding up his chin.

“Actually, yes. I am so lost. There’s no way I’m gonna pass this class,” you responded, sighing. He turned your textbook to face him, scanning the page to see what you were working on. He laughed softly to himself, pushing his hair behind his ear before he looked back up at you.

“Okay, no problem. I’m done studying for this class already. We still have two days until our final, right? I got you,” he said confidently, his gummy smile peeking at you. He reached for your notebook, eyes skimming the pages in front of him. A minute later, he tapped the page. “I see the problem.”

Yoongi spent the next two hours tirelessly explaining everywhere (yes, multiple spots) you had gone wrong. Things were slowly starting to click, the gears in your head finally spinning in the right direction. Occasionally, they still got stuck, but he was doing a really good job of helping you to unstick them.

“We should call it a night. If you study too hard, you won’t remember anything we just did. Meet me tomorrow night at six at the dining hall if you want more help,” Yoongi said as he stood, packing his things back into his backpack.

“The dining hall? That’s a really loud place to study,” you responded, a look of utter confusion painting your face.

“We’re not gonna study at the dining hall, dummy. We are, however, gonna have dinner before we come back to the library. You’re buying,” he said with a laugh as he turned and walked away.

The next night, after a quick dinner that was less awkward than you’d expected, you and Yoongi spent another three hours at the library, heads buried deep in your calculus textbook once again. At the end of your study session, you finally felt confident enough to take your final exam the following morning. And it was all thanks to Min Yoongi.

Your friendship blossomed after those late night study sessions. Although you didn’t have classes together anymore when your calculus class ended, you still managed to spend at least a few nights every week together. Sometimes you sat in his living room watching trashy reality tv (which he hated), other times you would cook together (which, let’s be real, more often than not led to Yoongi getting frustrated with your lack of cooking ability and finishing it himself while you watched). He had even dragged you to a few basketball games, much to your dismay since you didn’t particularly like sports. But you loved spending time with him, and seeing him get excited when his team was winning was worth the potential boredom for you.

The two of you basically grew up together. You had met when you were only twenty-two, about to graduate college, and now you were both pushing thirty. You both had fairly successful careers in your chosen fields (music production for him, finance for you), and you had been through more than your fair share of struggles together. You were the one who was there for him when his long term relationship fell apart, and he was the one who talked you off the ledge when you lost your mother almost immediately after. Being roommates with Yoongi made these hardships easier. Neither of you were alone when you were at your worst, you always had someone to turn to when you needed a distraction or a shoulder to cry on. After eight years of friendship, and four years of living together, you were certain that the two of you were platonic soulmates.

The friend group you’d collected over the years had slowly become your family. Yoongi brought two of his childhood friends, Hobi and Jimin, along with his coworkers Namjoon and Taehyung, into your circle, and you’d accepted them all like they were your long-lost brothers. Three of them eventually married, growing your friend group even more because you had built-in female friends in their wives. Your best friend since birth, Seo-Jun, loved Yoongi just the same as you did. But, she loved Taehyung even more. You weren’t even the slightest bit surprised when they got together. This left you and Yoongi as the only ones left in your group who hadn’t married yet. But, at only thirty, neither of you cared too much about that. You were still enjoying your youth. Things were just easier when you weren’t tied down, having to worry about another person when making all your decisions. You could just be.

Both your and Yoongi’s lack of a romantic partner is what made you being roommates so simple. Unfortunately, this had been the downfall of his last relationship. The woman he was so sure about, but whom he wasn’t quite ready to marry, refused to accept that you were his best friend. She slowly worked her way into every part of his life, only to give him an ultimatum of moving out of your shared apartment and into hers and ending your friendship, or losing her altogether. Yoongi came to you for advice, but you couldn’t tell him what to do. You just wanted him to be happy, even if that meant losing him. You told him just that, even though it pained you to do so. He left that conversation and came back that evening, brokenhearted over the loss of who he thought was meant for him. You, on the other hand, had never had a long term relationship. You had dated people, certainly, but none had ever panned out for one reason or another. Most of the time it ended because of (so-called) unrealistic expectations on your end, or an obvious fear of being with a powerful woman on their end. Men didn’t appreciate the hard work you put into your career in finance, and were threatened by your independence and hard-charging nature. Ultimately, the two of you had made peace with the fact that maybe you were just meant to do life on your own, supporting and loving each other the way only best friends could. Your lack of romantic partners is also why the thing your friend group proposed one afternoon was comically shocking.

“A… couples’ trip,” Yoongi repeated, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked over at you, noticing the way your entire body was shaking as you tried to control your laughter.

“Listen. We know the two of you don’t have partners. But the rest of us really want to go on this trip together, and the resort will give us a group rate if we book five rooms!” Taehyung explained.

“It’s a really good discount. You guys already share an apartment. Why can’t you share a room for a week?” Seo-Jun asked, blinking up at you sweetly, trying her hardest to get her way. That tactic worked on Taehyung, but you weren’t sure why she expected it to work on you.

“It’s at a couples’ resort. It specifically says ‘couples only.’ We’d be found out so fast. No way could Yoon and I pass as a couple,” you told her, still laughing as you scrolled through the website Seo-Jun had sent to you.

“Please, just think about it! It’ll be fun. You guys don’t have to spend the entire week together. All you have to do is just share the room,” Namjoon’s wife, Ji-Ho, chimed in.

It was obvious that all of your friends really wanted you to agree to this bizarre plan. You could use a vacation, but the thought of having to pretend to be in a relationship with Min Yoongi? That would never work. What happened next shocked you even more than the original proposal.

“I’m down for it. As long as the room has two beds, because there’s no way I’m sharing a bed with her,” Yoongi finally said. Looking over at you, he added, “I’ve seen you starfished on your own bed too many times. No thank you.”

You feigned offense, placing your hand over your chest with a fake gasp on your face. He laughed, eyes scrunching closed in signature Yoongi fashion, shoving your shoulder playfully. You sighed, knowing you had to say yes now.

“Okay, fine. We’re in,” you answered. Your answer was immediately met with squeals of excitement from the girls, a hug from Seo-Jun, and excited high fives amongst the guys. Amidst the chaos, you glanced over at Yoongi, seeing a small smile on his face that told you he was grateful for you having said yes to this insane plan.

Later that night, you were lying in bed after finishing your bedtime routine, ready to sleep, when intrusive thoughts began racing through your head. What would this “fake relationship” scenario look like? Would it be as simple as just holding Yoongi’s hand whenever you were in common areas of the resort so that staff wouldn’t catch on to your lie? What if there were couples’ activities that your friends were participating in; would you have to do those as well? The resort looked especially romantic, from what you’d seen on the website, and it made you wonder: could you do romance with Min Yoongi? What if you wanted to do romance with Min Yoongi?

You shook those thoughts off immediately, unwilling to consider anything other than what you already knew: Yoongi was nothing more than your best friend, and he would stay that way forever. You fell asleep shortly after, unbothered by your strange train of thought, reducing it to being caused by your incessant need to plan everything down to the minute, and the fact that you weren’t in control of this vacation.

At the other end of the hall, the same train of thought barged into Yoongi’s head, as if you had transferred your thoughts directly to him. However, his replies to himself were slightly different. He knew exactly how to survive this “couples’ week” with you. But one thing worried him more than anything else. What if he played up this fake romance too much and exposed himself? Would your friendship ever recover if his feelings for you came out? The anxiety kept him up most of the night, tossing and turning, wondering if this vacation was a good idea after all.

—

Two months later, your group of ten was scattered across a plane, sitting in pairs, heading to Mexico for your much anticipated vacation. The flight was short, only three hours, and you had had a particularly exhausting week at the office, so you planned to catch up on some sleep so you could arrive refreshed and ready to make the most of your week away. You were seated with Yoongi, of course, and before you knew it, you were nodding off, eyes closing slowly as you fell asleep, head resting against the window of the airplane.

Yoongi’s breath caught in his chest as your head fell onto his shoulder. You were clearly in a deep sleep; he didn’t mind you resting there. Plus, in eight years of friendship, it’s not like the two of you hadn’t fallen asleep together a few times before. But every time it happened, his body reacted the same way. Hitched breathing, tensed muscles, fluttering heart rate. Somehow, you had never noticed, and he was thankful for that. He couldn’t stomach the thought of scaring you away if you ever found out.

The flight went smoothly, and just as soon as you had fallen asleep, you were being shaken awake by your best friend. “Hey. We’re here, get up!” he exclaimed.

You blinked a few times, trying to wake yourself up. The plane was already half empty, passengers trickling down the aisle with their belongings. You moved to grab your bag from under your seat, but Yoongi had the same idea. The side of your head smacked against his forehead, eliciting a loud groan from him.

“Seriously? We just got here and you’re already being mean to me. We’ll definitely pass for a couple,” he remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes at him, knowing full well that he was just teasing you. You grabbed your bag with a huff of remorse, smiling at him after that.

Bags finally obtained, you left your seats and exited the airplane, joining your group at baggage claim. Three of the couples already had their suitcases, but the luggage was still coming out, so it wouldn’t be long until the rest of you were able to retrieve your own bags. Once your bags arrived, your group headed toward the arrivals hall, searching for the driver who would be waiting for you.

The resort you were staying at prided itself on “all-inclusive service from arrival to departure,” which meant that you were picked up from the airport upon arrival, driven to the resort, where you would be bathed in luxury for the entirety of your stay, and then driven back to the airport on the day of your departure. This ensured that none of you would have to lift a finger the whole week. Everything was included in your booking, from food and drinks (even most alcohol), to daily scheduled activities and even off-resort trips. At check-in, each “couple” (said lightly, since you and Yoongi weren’t really a couple) received their room keys and a printout of the week’s events. The rest of your group went first, leaving you and Yoongi to check in last.

“And finally, Mr. and Mrs. Min. Here are your keys and this week’s schedule. We hope you enjoy your stay with us, and please don’t hesitate to come to us for anything you may need this week,” the receptionist said warmly.

Yoongi looked over at you standing next to him, gauging how well you were playing your part. You smiled at him, a small glint of affection in your eyes. He smiled back at you, glad that the receptionist’s belief that you were married didn’t seem to bother you. There was nothing else he needed in this world if it meant you’d smile at him that way every day.

Once the check-in process was finished, you and your friends gathered together, comparing room locations. The resort had informed you when you first booked your trip that even though you’d booked your rooms with a group rate, that didn’t guarantee you’d all be staying near each other. This turned out to be true; all of your rooms were spread out across the resort, except for the rooms assigned to Namjoon and Taehyung and their wives. The four of them had rooms directly across from each other.

“Alright everyone. Let’s go get settled in and check everything out. We can meet back up for dinner, say around seven?” Jimin asked. Everyone agreed and the group parted ways, leaving you and Yoongi alone to find your room on the small map given to you by the front desk.

Your room wasn’t too far from the lobby. On the way there, you passed a large pool with a swim-up bar, a basketball court (which excited Yoongi, as expected), and a gym that looked to be pretty well equipped with various exercise machines and plenty of floor space for individual workouts. Following the path out of the central area and around the backside of the resort, you were greeted by a sweeping expanse of ocean. You stopped in your tracks, eyes lit up, not believing what you were seeing. After all, you didn’t live close to the beach, and had only seen the ocean a few times before in your life. The ones you’d been to were nothing compared to the view in front of you. The water was crystal clear, a vibrant shade of turquoise as far as you could see.

“C’mon, you goon. It’s just the ocean,” Yoongi said from up ahead, pulling you out of your daze. You rolled your eyes at him once again, following him along the path to get to your room. He was several steps ahead of you, arriving at the door of your room quickly, while you were still meandering along the path to catch up to him, finding it hard to concentrate on anything except the beautiful ocean to your left. You watched him as he used his key to unlock the door, opening it and walking through the entryway. You caught up to him soon after, entering the room yourself, but you were stopped by the sudden force of walking directly into Yoongi’s back, throwing you back a bit.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, smacking his shoulder blade lightly.

He turned to face you, replying with, “Not my problem. Our problem.” With that he pointed to the inside of your room. You looked over his shoulder to see exactly what he was referring to.

One king-sized bed was staring you straight in the face from the center of the room.

“Oh,” you let out, a look of surprise spreading across your face.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” Yoongi reassured you as he stepped around you and walked back out the door. You were left standing alone in the room after that, not wanting to move to avoid messing up the room for the housekeeping staff who would inevitably come to check out the room after the two of you were switched to the correct room type.

Ten minutes passed before you heard the click of the door unlocking behind you. Yoongi walked in with a defeated look in his eyes. He sighed, smiling at you gently.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Yoon, just stop. Did you get it fixed?” you replied, an exasperated puff of air leaving your lips.

“Well, no. I didn’t. Apparently this is one of their busiest weeks and they just don’t have another room to switch us to. They said the rooms with two beds were reserved only for handicapped guests needing accessible accommodations,” Yoongi explained.

“So, what you’re saying is that we have to spend the next week somehow sharing a bed. What could possibly be the ‘good news’ in this situation?” you asked him, your tone of voice raising to a shrill whine.

“The good news is that they gave us a voucher for fifty percent off dinner at their premium restaurant. But yes, we are gonna have to share the bed,” Yoongi finished.

You sighed, a look of absolute terror on your face. In all the years the two of you had been friends, you had never shared a bed. Sure, you’d fallen asleep together during a movie on your couch many times, or like earlier on the plane, but actually sharing a bed? No. The thought had never crossed your mind. That was a level of intimacy that you never wanted, afraid of how it could turn out. You knew you moved around a lot in your sleep. What if you tried to cuddle him in your sleep? Or worse, what if you tried to cuddle him and he rejected you? You shook your head, trying to clear your mind.

“Uh… you alright? It’s honestly not a big deal to me. It’s just sleeping,” Yoongi said with a shrug of his shoulders, hand running through his hair.

“Um, yeah, sorry. Yeah, I’m good. No big deal,” you stuttered, trying not to sound too shaken by this new development.

“Alright then. That’s settled,” Yoongi replied enthusiastically, “what do you wanna do until we meet the others for dinner?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going down to the beach. We have, what, two hours?”

Before he could even answer you, you were rifling through your suitcase, pulling out one of the swimsuits you’d brought for the trip. You squeezed past Yoongi to get to the bathroom to change, taking only a minute to rid yourself of your travel clothes and swap them with the tiny blue bikini you’d bought the week before. You didn’t usually have the confidence to wear swimsuits, instead choosing to swim in shorts and a swim shirt, but hell, you were on vacation and you were going to take advantage of that. You didn’t even bother to put a coverup over your swimsuit before opening the bathroom door and returning to your suitcase to grab your sunscreen and towel.

Yoongi stopped what he was doing, not fully processing the sight in front of him. His mouth agape, he couldn’t help but to let his eyes linger on your barely clothed form across the room. He wasn’t huge on swimming, and the few times he had gone to the pool with you, you hadn’t worn anything like that before. Looking at you, dressed like that, stirred up feelings that had long since been buried in the back of his mind. He wished you had shown him this part of yourself years ago. If you had, maybe he would’ve had the courage to tell you his feelings for you.

“Hey. Earth to Yoon,” your voice rang out, fingers snapping inches from his face. He shook his head, coming back to reality.

“Sorry. What?” he asked, rubbing the side of his face, trying to shake off the completely impure thoughts racing through his brain.

“I asked you if you can get my back,” you repeated, shaking the bottle of sunscreen out at him. He took it from you, hesitantly opening the cap and squeezing some out onto his palm. You turned around and lifted your ponytail up to give him a clean canvas to paint with the protective layer. You jumped a little as his cold hands touched your spine, feeling his fingers massage the lotion into your back.

Yoongi bit his lip as he concentrated on making sure to cover your entire back and the rest of your shoulders that you couldn’t reach. This small, friendly action definitely wasn’t helping to ward off the impure thoughts from just a minute ago. In fact, it was only fueling them. He imagined his hands roaming elsewhere on your body, getting to touch you in places that had always been off limits to him, imagining your body writhing underneath him. These thoughts had been tormenting him for months now, which both surprised him entirely and also completely didn’t. He took a deep breath as he slipped his hand underneath the string of your bikini top to make sure he hadn’t missed any spots, then clapped both his hands on your shoulders and gently shoved you toward the door.

“All done. Now go, have fun, try not to drown,” Yoongi said with a laugh as he watched you walk out the door.

Left alone with only his own thoughts, Yoongi’s mind began to wander. What if he did tell you how he felt? The two of you had been friends for so long that he felt like it could go one of two ways. One, you’d laugh it off and tell him he was being ridiculous, and then you’d forget about it, and your friendship would remain intact. Or two, you wouldn’t be able to understand and it would cause irreparable damage to the friendship you’d been building over the last eight years. He didn’t know which option was worse, telling you and facing rejection, possibly losing the best friend he’d ever had; or not telling you, and living with the weight of his unconfessed feelings forever. This week, he’d be living in even closer quarters with you than normal, and he wasn’t sure how to get through it. But he was going to try his hardest to act like nothing was going on inside his head.

–

Seven o’clock rolled around and the two of you met up with the rest of your friends for dinner at the agreed upon restaurant. Namjoon had called ahead to make sure they could seat all ten of you together, so there was a large table toward the back of the restaurant waiting for your group when you arrived. Everyone sat down, ready to catch up and talk about how the rooms were and how they’d spent their first few hours at the resort.

“So, we have some fun news,” Yoongi said with a laugh. That got everyone’s attention, most of the group looking up from their menus to give him their full attention.

“Our room only has one bed. Yoon tried to get us switched to a different room, but there was nothing available. So, we’re stuck sharing for the week,” you explained.

An awkward silence took over the group. A few seconds passed, and suddenly, Jimin and Hobi were cracking up laughing. The rest of the table stared at them, unsure what was so funny. Yoongi, of course, knew exactly why they were laughing, but he trusted them to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t blow his cover.

“Phew. Sorry, I’m just imagining Yoongi curled up in a tiny ball while ____ spreads out across the bed the whole week,” Hobi explained, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye that had been pushed out by his laughter. Jimin nodded in agreement, but Yoongi didn’t miss the knowing look that he shot him before the subject naturally changed to everyone’s afternoon activities. You shared about your time on the beach, telling everyone how nice the water was and that you loved being able to go whenever you felt like it. Namjoon had spent his time reading, while Yoongi had played a bit of basketball. The rest of the group had just relaxed in their rooms until it was time to get ready for dinner.

Dinner passed quickly, drinks flowing freely with everyone in full vacation mode. The ten of you always had a great time when you were together, although more often than not most of you drank more than you should, at the insistence of Jimin. Tonight was no different. Yoongi was three glasses of whiskey deep into a bottle the other guys had purchased. You and the girls were drinking fruity cocktails, yours containing more tequila than fruit. Hobi had turned completely red-faced after drinking his second drink, and the rest were drinking a combination of the whiskey and some other drinks that Jimin ordered for them. You were glad you were on vacation, because you knew you would wake up at least some degree of hungover the next morning. You spent so much time at the restaurant that your server had to come tell you that you needed to leave because it was closing time. Everyone gathered their things, talking amongst themselves about if they should move to the resort’s nightclub for a few more drinks.

“I think I’m actually gonna go back to the room for the night. I do not want to spend this entire trip vomiting from trying to keep up with Jimin,” you said as you picked up your purse, waving goodbye to the group as you walked away.

The rest of your friends walked in the opposite direction, heading to the nightclub. Yoongi and Jimin were the stragglers of the group, walking a few feet behind everyone else. Jimin nudged Yoongi with an elbow to the ribs, cocking his head to the side before he said what he’d been meaning to say all night.

“Bro, are you ever gonna tell her how you feel?”

Yoongi sputtered, unsure how to reply. He knew that Jimin knew, obviously. He had admitted it himself years ago when Jimin had questioned why he would move in with you if you didn’t share his feelings. Back then, he had tried to come up with excuses and act like he didn’t know what Jimin was talking about, but Jimin had coaxed it out of him. He was sworn to secrecy and had kept his word so far, rarely even mentioning it except for in situations like this (situations being drunk nights together when you left early and Yoongi was stuck with him, watching you leave).

“Minie, I told you. I can’t,” Yoongi replied, sighing.

“Why not?”

“I’ll ruin everything. I can’t lose her,” Yoongi answered. He was drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that telling you he was in love with you would fuck up your friendship, and that was something he could never take back once it was out in the open.

“Listen. You might think it’ll ruin everything. But I don’t think so. I’ve seen how you two are together. You’re best friends. I think you need to tell her, before you don’t have the chance anymore. I’ve been keeping this to myself for years because you asked me not to bring it up. But I just can’t keep watching you suffer when there’s a really simple solution. Just tell her,” Jimin let out in one quick response.

Yoongi stared at him, wide-eyed. He knew Jimin was right, but he never thought he’d have the courage to go through with it. Luckily for him, Jimin had just the thing to help calm his nerves. He handed Yoongi a small flask, and he took a gulp of the bitter liquid, handing it back. It was now or never.

“Good luck, man,” Jimin said, clapping him on the back and pushing him back in the direction of your shared room.

Yoongi took several deep breaths as he walked, unsure who was controlling his movements, because it sure as hell wasn’t him. He had no idea how he would even begin to get this out, but the combination of Jimin’s confidence in him, and the shot of liquid courage he’d just downed, made him feel like he could.

Before he knew it, he was using his key to enter your room. You turned around at the sound of the door shutting behind him, surprised to see him.

“What happened to everyone going to the nightclub?” you questioned, confused look on your face.

“Ah, yeah. They did. I just decided to come back early. Started feeling the liquor a little more and I knew I’d regret it if I kept drinking,” Yoongi explained, hand rubbing the back of his neck, a small smile on his lips.

“Makes sense. That’s exactly why I didn’t go out either,” you said, laughing at the thought of your entire group stumbling back to their rooms in the dead of the night.

You continued getting ready for bed, going into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Yoongi followed you, and you scooted over for him to share the sink with you as he washed his face and brushed his teeth as well.

You left him in the bathroom, claiming the right side of the bed before he could give an opinion on which side he wanted. You curled up under the soft comforter, turning over to switch off your bedside light, deciding that sleeping facing the wall would probably be in your best interest this week.

“Figures,” Yoongi scoffed as he shuffled his socked feet across the room to climb into bed next to you. You knew that Yoongi preferred the right side of the bed, but so did you, so it was only fair for whoever got there first to call dibs on it. You felt the bed dip down behind you as Yoongi laid down, and his light turned off seconds after. The room was quiet, only the sounds of the ceiling fan and Yoongi’s deep breathing saving you from being too restless to sleep.

Minutes passed, and you were starting to drift off when you heard Yoongi turn over onto his side. Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on your arm.

“Hey, are you still awake?”

“Yeah,” you responded quietly.

A deep, shaky breath left Yoongi’s lips, and then, “Can I talk to you about something?”

Your breath caught in your throat. In all the years you had been friends, he had never asked to talk to you about something. Any problem he had with you was always blurted out at random, which was something you admired about him. He was never afraid to speak his mind when it came to you or his other friends, so his hesitancy worried you. You rolled over to face him, feeling like whatever it was should be said face to face instead of said to your back.

“What’s up?” you asked him. The moonlight shone through the gaps of the curtains on the window across the room, illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. You looked at him, seeing a discomfort that you rarely noticed in him. You had only seen that look in his eyes a few other times, which confused you even more. Yoongi took a few more deep breaths before beginning.

“This isn’t something I ever planned to tell you. Shit, it isn’t something I ever planned to feel at all. But I do, and I just can’t go on acting like there’s nothing going on with me. Jimin was the one who gave me the push I needed to finally tell you. But the truth is, I am so fucking in love with you. I have been since the summer after graduation. We got so close and you became my best friend, and I didn’t want to mess any of that up, so I kept it to myself for so long. But I just can’t anymore,” Yoongi breathed out, his eyes locked on yours, his hand gripping your bicep lightly.

Yoongi was met with nothing but silence. The look on your face went from confused, to shocked, to utterly terrified. You didn’t break away from his gaze, which was at least something, but you didn’t say anything either. Finally, after what felt like hours, you let out a shaky breath and opened your mouth to speak.

“Yoon,” you started, voice cracking. You knew you were on the verge of tears, but you tried your best to hold them back so you could get out what you needed to say. “I… I don’t know what to say. You’re my best friend, and I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about you that way, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not, ____? We know everything about each other. We’ve been through so much together. What could it hurt?” Yoongi pleaded, his fingers tracing along your arm lightly as he spoke.

“I just don’t want to lose you, Yoon. You’re my best friend. If it didn’t work out… I couldn’t take losing you for good,” you explained. You broke his gaze, unable to deal with looking him directly in the eye anymore. You knew you were hurting him, which was bad enough, but to see the hurt right in front of your face like that? It wasn’t something you could bear.

“____. It would be so easy. You and me, we’re like soulmates, yeah? We’ve always said that, haven’t we? I promise, we could make it work.” With that, you felt his hand run up your arm and shoulder to your face, cupping your cheek in his hand lightly, running his thumb over your skin. You stilled, eyes on him again. Your heart was racing, about to beat out of your chest. You shivered, and you hesitantly brought your hand up to rest on his waist.

“Promise me one thing, Yoon. Promise me our friendship will be okay,” you breathed out. Yoongi nodded, never breaking eye contact with you as he leaned in and softly touched his lips to yours. Your breath caught in your throat as he kissed you, feeling a heat you’d never felt before. His hand moved down to your neck, nudging your head to the side with his nose as he deepened the kiss. His tongue met yours, lazily, but hungrily. It was as though he wanted to devour you through his kiss alone.

His hand left your neck, moving to your hip and pulling you into him. Your arm wrapped around his back, sliding your hand up to tangle in his hair. He twisted his body to push you onto your back, breaking the kiss to move down to your neck. His lips ghosted over the column of your throat, gentle, heated kisses landing on your neck and collarbone. He reached down to grab the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He was met with the sight of your beautiful bare torso underneath him, chest heaving as you breathed heavily, eyes locking on his. You did the same to him, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side. He continued his sporadic kissing, moving down to your chest until his lips settled on the bud of your left breast. Looking up at you, he hesitantly took the nipple into his mouth, tongue licking circles around it. A whine escaped your lips, and Yoongi knew then that he could listen to your sounds all night if you let him.

Your hips bucked up into him, and his breathing hitched, feeling your body against his. He reached down and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your pajama bottoms, sliding both layers you had on down your legs until he could pull them off and savor the image of you, completely naked, reacting to his every touch.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out, hands running up your legs until they rested on your thighs. Slowly, he parted your legs, positioning himself between them. He left a few gentle kisses on your lower abdomen, tongue darting out to lick a path from your belly button down to your mound. Taking one more look up at you, and seeing your pupils blown with lust, was all the encouragement he needed as he dragged his wet tongue through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he brought it back up to circle your clit.

“Yoon..” you gasped out, one hand going to your breast, squeezing it and playing with the nipple. It was partially for you because you enjoyed the stimulation, but also for him as well, giving him a show to pay attention to as he devoured you like you were his last meal.

You let out another loud moan as he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, his tongue fervently lapping up your slick as he hooked his fingers just right for you to see stars. You bucked your hips against his fingers, wanting every inch of him inside of you.

“That’s it. You’re so pretty fucking yourself on my fingers,” Yoongi told you, using the other hand to push down gently on your lower stomach. The extra sensation, combined with his tongue tracing patterns through your folds, nearly sent you over the edge right then. Your moans grew more desperate, breathing becoming more erratic as he groaned into your pussy, enjoying giving you pleasure as much as you enjoyed getting it. Just then, he took your clit in between his lips, sucking gently, his fingers not stopping their consistent thrusting into you. He watched you as he took you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like no other. Your moans and whines spilled out, saying his name over and over as he used his tongue to help you ride it out. He only stopped when you forcefully pushed his head away from you, unable to take the overstimulation. Your entire body was weak, shaking uncontrollably underneath him. You pulled him by the arm up and over you, kissing him messily, not caring about tasting yourself on his lips.

Still kissing you, refusing to break the connection between the two of you, he reached down and clumsily pushed his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them off his ankles onto the floor. You watched as his cock sprung free, salivating at the sight of it. Bringing himself up into the space between your thighs again, you couldn’t help yourself as you reached down and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him a few times, watching as his head fell to your shoulder, his breathing coming out in short gasps. With that, you guided him slowly to your entrance, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you at that moment.

“Yoon, please, I need you,” you whined, eyes on him as he pushed just the tip of his cock into you, going slowly to allow you time to adjust to his size. You were so wet that he slid into you with no resistance, his moans tumbling out as he bottomed out, pelvis touching yours. He raised his torso up with his forearms, kissing you as he began to slowly thrust into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles to hold them together as you held the back of his neck. You were already so sensitive from your previous orgasm that the sweet drag of his cock against your walls had you begging for more sooner than you expected. His thrusts became rougher, sending the sound of skin slapping against skin throughout the room.

Your second orgasm already building, Yoongi reached down between you and rubbed tiny circles on your clit, pushing into you erratically. He struggled to keep a rhythm as his own release came closer, and his kisses grew sloppy as he continued rubbing his fingers gently on you. The second orgasm wasn’t as strong, but regardless, your body shook as it overpowered you, walls contracting around his cock. The new sensation set off Yoongi’s orgasm soon after. He groaned out loudly as he thrusted into you a few more times, collapsing on top of you as you both came down from your shared high. There was silence aside from your heavy breathing as he pulled out of you and laid next to you, kissing your temple as he wrapped you up in his arms. You huddled into his embrace, face resting against his chest, listening as his heart rate slowly regulated.

“Hey,” Yoongi whispered.

“Yeah?” you whispered back, afraid to move from the warmth of his arms.

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still my best friend, and I’m still in love with you,” he answered, placing a slow kiss to your forehead as he squeezed you tighter.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you said in response, hugging him back even tighter.

You weren’t sure if this would last, or if it would even work at all, but that was a question to save for another day. Tonight, all you wanted to do was fall asleep in the arms of the man who had been there for you for eight years, the man you’d loved for half of that time. You didn’t have all the answers, but one thing you were sure about? You were so, so glad that you sucked at calculus.

#bts fic #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga x reader #suga fanfic #suga fic #suga smut #yoongi one shot #btswritersclub #yoongi

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absentlurker · 9 months

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Have a little Ficlet!!!

~~~~~~

Wayne sighs heavily as he walks into the trailer after a long night shift. The lights were off in the living room except for a small Coca Cola night light plugged in above the kitchen counter. He locks the door before dumping his keys on the kitchen table before taking off his jacket. He kicked off his boots after hanging his jacket on the back on the table chair.

Wayne grabs his boots and placed them against the wall beside the front door before walking down the short hall to Eddie’s bedroom door.

He paused before the cracked door when he heard voices softly talking. Eddie and Steve, Wayne thought to himself and started to walk away but paused when their voices started to rise a little in the bedroom.

Nosey old man, Wayne chuckles at himself as he turns his head so he can hear better.

“I know you’re scared to get hurt again, baby,” He hears Eddie say. Wayne’s brows furrowed, “but you can’t let that stop you from letting people in, Steve.”

Wayne hears Steve huff and it’s quiet for a moment before Steve says weakly, “You don’t understand. I think about if we don’t make it and I’m just sick to my stomach.” Wayne hears some movement and Eddie’s bed squeaking as he moves.

“Honey, what’s the alternative?” Eddie questions with a hum, “are you going to let us go because of a maybe? Baby, I can’t see the future but you gotta take risks sometimes.”

Steve doesn’t say anything which worries Wayne because god, Eddie would beside himself if Steve were to break up with him. He’s so gone on that boy.

He’s surprised how calm Eddie sounds when he says, “You know, I’ve been there.”

“Huh?” Steve questions, “what do you mean ‘you’ve been there’?”

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, “When I moved in with Wayne, I had convinced myself I wasn’t gonna trust him.” Wayne stops the noise that threatens to escape at the confession. What?

“What? Wayne?” Steve asks and he hears Eddie’s voice crack as he laughs at Steve’s surprise.

“Yeah, man. I was terrified to let anyone in again. After my dad-“ Wayne’s heart aches as Eddie’s voice breaks, “Well, you know…I didn’t want to let anyone in or love anyone because what’s the point, you know? They’re just going to hurt me and they didn’t understand me anyway.” Eddie snorts softly, “Did you know I didn’t even speak to Wayne for about six months when I first showed up?”

“Really?” Steve asks softly. Wayne remembers those days. God, they were so difficult. Wayne constantly felt like he was doing everything wrong back then.

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know how he managed. I was such an asshole to him for no reason back in the beginning.”

No, Wayne thought, you were a grieving little boy who lost everything he knew.

“He didn’t give up though. God, I still remember when I came home from school when I was like eleven. I had a black eye because I got in a fight over something I don’t remember and I was just angry all the time. I refused to tell him what happened and honestly, I was trying to start a fight with him.” Eddie admitted distantly, “I guess I wanted him to yell at me and prove he was just like everyone else and you know what he did?”

“What?” Steve whispers, he sounds as invested in his story as Wayne is even though he was there.

“He grabbed me and hugged me so tight,” Eddie sounds choked up and honestly, so is Wayne. “He-he said, ‘boy, I understand you’re angry and you miss your old life but I’m going to be here even if you build concrete walls around yourself. And I’m going to love you and care for you and if you think for one second I won’t go down to that school and raise hell because of your face, you gotta thing comin’” Eddie laughs to himself, “and he did! He stomped down to that middle school and told off the principal for not expelling that boy who hit me.” Eddie snickers softly, “Jesus, that was great.” He hears Steve laughing quietly.

“I knew I loved him then,” Eddie continues, “and I wasn’t even mad about it. It was a risk because it was still in the beginning and he could still hurt me one day but you know what?” Eddie sounds content, “He hasn’t. He probably doesn’t understand everything I do and say because dude, I can be so weird sometimes,”

Steve interrupts with a laugh before saying, “True.” Wayne nods in agreement.

“Rude. But he doesn’t care and he loves me anyway.”

Wayne hears Eddie move around before he says, “Stevie, I’m asking you to take a risk with me. I know you’ve been hurt and it’s made you doubt yourself about love and relationships but the planet is going to keep spinning with or without me and don’t you wanna see where it goes?”

Steve sounds on the edge of tears when he says, “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

“Yeah?”

Steve laughs, “Yeah, you goof.” Wayne smiles to himself when he hears the obvious sound of lips smacking together.

“You won’t regret it, Stevie, I’ve got a good feeling.” Eddie tells him playfully.

Wayne turns away from Eddie’s door to walk back down the hall with a smile on his face.

Maybe he didn’t mess up that much trying to raise that little ten year old who showed up at his door all those years ago.

~~~~~~~

(inspiration for this was from the song the alternative by Lyn Lapid)

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #wayne munson #um #enjoy???#I’m trying to get more confident in writing so this is super random lolol #but I love Wayne and Eddie and Steve so HERE YA GO #y’all I always have to change my tenses cause they’re like everywhere lmao

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tvgals · 10 months

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‘ TELL THEM THE TRUTH . ‘

— when they reveal their secret identity as spider-man, it’s too late.

MILES MORALES —

miles was looking all over new york for you. in the alleyways, behind buildings, even inside some of said buildings. but he just couldn’t find you. miles decided to search on foot. he knew it was risky, but so was the chances of losing you. he ignored the plea to take photos or go places with people, he needed to find you first. miles called your phone multiples times, looking for the last location it pinged — in between two shady buildings. miles follows the map and after twenty minutes of searching, miles found you. you were curled up in a ball, trying to run away from the cold that was engulfing your body that no one else seemed to feel. miles drops down next to you and pulls his mask up, bringing you to his chest. “y/n?” miles whispers, gently shaking your body. you let out a weak “hm?” in response. miles sighs and heaves you onto his back.

“stay awake, okay?” miles says, holding onto your hands for dear life. you open your eyes to only a squint, you look to see spiderman.. “miles?” you whisper, earning a faint “yeah?” you put two and two together, realizing that your boyfriend of six months was spider-man. that when he was flaky on dates or not responding to texts, he was saving brooklyn. that even in your last moments, miles was your hero.

HOBIE BROWN —

hobie let his tears fall in the corner silently as he watched you fight for your life in the blinding white hospital bed. this all happened because he wasn’t watching you — because he wasn’t paying attention. hobie sat next to you, biting his lip. “please wake up, love. i know i’ve been distant and we haven’t been talking, and that when we did talk, it was always an argument. i’m saving the world for you, babe. this is all for you. everything i do,” hobie takes a deep breath, making sure no one was in earshot for what he was going to tell you. “i’m spiderman. that’s why i’ve been gone so much, and why i haven’t been home with you. i was planning everything out for our one year — got ya’ pretty flowers ‘nd cute chocolates…” hobie sniffs, draping his lean frame onto your legs.

“i love you, y/n..”

PAVITR PRABHAKAR —

this has never happened on his watch. this WOULD never had happened if he was a good spider-man. if he was as good as everyone else in the spider society. a train had came down from one of mumbai villains, you not being able to move out of the way before gravity weighed down and you were crushed. pavitr searched everywhere for you, between the crowds of people and the rubble, pavitr couldn’t tell which from what. that was until he saw your hand — he knew it was yours from the red and pink bracelet with you twos initials on it — sticking from under the freight train. pavitr wanted to throw up, he wanted to sit there and sob and reign hell on the monster that did this to you.

“y/n? y/n please, please wake up.” pavitr says, holding your hand from under the rubble. he wasn’t strong enough to lift this train himself, so he took almost all of the citizens from mumbai and lifted the train, revealing your bloody and bruised body.

“oh my god.” pavitr whispers, picking you up and running you from the scene, laying you down on an open lot and taking his mask off, tears cascading down his face. “please wake up.” pavitr shakes you, his suit still on for display. “i was gonna tell you today, i really was..” pavitr whimpered, pulling you into his body.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

GWEN STACY —

gwen was breathing, she’s sure of it. she thinks so. she might be. but how can she breath when her girlfriend is laid out on the ground bleeding from a hole in her back. gwen covers her mouth and practically runs towards you, dropping to her knees when she’s next to you. she knew this was a bad idea. she knew that getting attached to you was a bad idea. she knew that as soon as you and her got together something bad was going to happen. gwen thought the two of you could outrun it. that the two of you would’ve been together forever.

“wake up, y/n wake up.” gwen cries, shaking you by your arm, “please?…” she whispers, your body cold and lifeless.

“i was gonna tell you i swear. if i told you sooner this would’ve never happened. i’m so so sorry..”

TAGLIST ; — @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly

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ihavethedreamies · 2 months

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Best Friend's Brother | Doyoung

Kim Dongyoung (Doyoung - NCT 127)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.4k

Pairing: Doyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Like 5 years, reader is 19 and he's 24), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Fingering, Spanking (once or twice), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago and had it saved somewhere else and totally forgot about it till the other day, lol. I Beta-ed it myself but there might be some errors still.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You had always had eyes for your friend's brother. It was nearly impossible not to give the fact that he was simultaneously the cutest and hottest thing on the face of the earth. There were times where Doyoung would smile or laugh and you heart would melt; the other times he would get angry or annoyed, and THAT look…made your ovaries explode. His broad shoulders and narrow build appealed to you more than the ripped guys you'd meet at the gym. You did always wonder what he had hiding under there though, because every time you were at the pool, he either didn’t get in or wore a shirt…Though, the wet fabric clinging to his body didn’t leave too much to the imagination. The worst part though, was that your best friend knew EVERYTHING. And she would tease you mercilessly for it. She was never disgusted by your crush on her brother; however, she requested to never have to see anything between the two of you. Fat chance at anything happening though. To him, you were like another little sister. You had been friends with his actual sister for many, many years, and he probably still saw you as the toothless six-year-old that hit him in the head with a plastic baseball bat. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but he, and his sister, never let you live it down.

Luckily, since he was five years older, there was never a point where you two were at the same school. You weren’t sure you could handle all the stares and attention he got from other girls, because he for damn sure got it. You remembered one valentine's day the amount of chocolates and notes he brought home from school. The year after you had decided to make chocolates for him yourself, but when they turned out terribly misshapen -still tasty- you ate them yourself.

Little did he know, you had a framed picture with him on your vanity…Not in a creepy way. It was from a few summers back where your group of friends had gone camping and he went along with some of his friends to basically chaperone. Therefore, there were other people in the picture, not just him. Your favorite part of it was that he is standing behind you with that beautiful smile, his hand resting on your head. Right after the picture was taken, he ruffled your hair, then dispersed with the rest of the group. That night, several of your friends flirted and joked with his friends, but you and he sat aside, watching the shenanigans. You were both exhausted but would be teased endlessly if you went to bed, so you sat together under a tree watching the fireflies. It wasn’t until later that you had found out you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his head resting on yours. Rumor had it, your best friend had a picture, but refused to show you. She claimed she needed it for when she did something otherwise unforgivable and needed an out.

One day you were over at her apartment, both of you studying on a hot late-spring day, the open windows allowing for a nice breeze to waft through. Her apartment was settled above her aunt's bakery and so she got a discount on rent. Since their aunt and uncle had no children themselves, Doyoung was set to inherit the business in a few years. On nice days, they would sit outside and offer samples and coupons to people walking by, and his beautiful face always drew people in like flies. It was honestly amazing to listen to him chuckle and converse with customers, but also distracted you from your studies. Often your friend would catch you, eyes closed, reveling in listening to him, daydreaming.

"Yah! Get to work." She tapped the end of her pencil on your notebook.

"Sorry." You snapped out of it and got back to taking notes. Summer break was approaching, which meant so were finals. Not too worried about it you realized you might gain a reason to be if you continued to drift off into Doyoung land. It had become soon to closing time for the bakery, staying open till about six pm that time of year. You decided to take a break and got off the floor to pace her apartment. The remnants of the food you had delivered had been put in the refrigerator and the dishes had long since been picked up by the delivery boy. Opening the fridge, you scan through it, feeling a bit snacky but not sure what you wanted. You also had a bad habit of opening the fridge when in the kitchen even if you weren’t hungry. Going to the small balcony, you leaned on the railing to watch Doyoung sweeping in front of the store and wiping tables down. The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to above his elbow, and his jeans were perfectly hugging-

"How's studying going?" His voice startled you and your eyes moved from his ass to his eyes. He was looking up at you like a curious bunny and it was the cutest freaking-

"Uh, it's going." You huffed a small laugh awkwardly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

"Do you need any help?" He asked and you blinked back. Should you take the opportunity? You really didn’t need help…You glanced behind you at the pile of books and papers on the table, as well as his sister conked out, drooling on her homework.

"Uh, yes please. I'll be right down!" You called as quietly as you could for him to still hear you, but not wake her up, and shuffled back inside to grab your study materials. Your sandals flapped on the stairs as you descended the outside staircase and moved to meet him out front.

"Let's go sit inside, it’s a bit cooler." He smiled and motioned for you to follow. He closed the doors, flipped the sign to closed, and you found a table. There were only three small tables inside, so you had to put some of your stuff on the windowsill next to you. He removed his apron - dear lord his buttons were STRUGGLING - and moved the chair from across to next to you.

"What class are you studying for right now?" He asked.

"Advanced World History." You weren’t exactly having trouble, but it was the hardest class you needed to study for. His eyes widened then he blinked at you.

"You're, what, a second year? I could have never at nineteen." He shook his head.

"Can you now?" You asked and he laughed. Your heart thudded so hard it's like she fell over the railing of a balcony.

"I can try…I should have asked what class before I offered." He huffed a nervous laugh.

"Well, maybe you can just help me go over the study guide. You know, make sure I know what I'm talking about." You handed him a green-paper packet and he turned his chair to face you better, leaning back into it. He began to go over questions, and you answered, but he tripped you up. You had memorized them in order, and he was reading off at random. This meant you had to actually know what the answer was instead of relying on repetition.

"Daeng! Try again!" He eyed you over the top of the paper playfully. You crinkled your nose, thinking.

"You're so cute." he whispered, but you heard it. Your head shot up to stare at him, and realization crossed his face that he said it out loud. You expected him to brush it off as some little sister thing, but his cheeks and ears turned a bright red.

"I'm cute? Me? No, no, you're cute." You had no idea where the confident flirtation came from, but you were dead serious. He blinked at you again.

"Cute." You pointed at him. Your deadpan stare and serious tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat nervously and wouldn’t meet your eye.

"Next question." You waved the situation off, screaming inside. It was like you were having an out-of-body-experience and your filter had been removed, letting him your instinctual thoughts.

"You really think I'm cute?" He put the paper down, sitting up straight.

"You are the cutest thing on the face of the earth." Once again, you were completely serious. His whole face bloomed red, and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his giddy smile.

"Come on, keep going, we didn’t finish." You pushed the paper toward him, but he just glanced at it.

"Questions." You poked the paper.

"How long have you thought I was cute?" He put his hand down, the embarrassment dissipating and turning to smugness.

"Forever, continue." Paper was shoved. Finally, he picked up the packet and when his face was hidden, you released a rush of air to try and calm down.

"On a level of one to ten, how cute am I?" Man, he was like a dog with a bone. You rolled your eyes.

"Eleven."

"How long have you liked me?" That threw you off a bit.

"I never said I liked you-" You tried to play it off. He put the packet down.

"You think I'm cute." He smirked.

"Puppies are cute, bunnies are cute, you are cute. In what world does that mean I like you?"

"Why do you have the hoodie I lost a few years ago in your closet?"

"H-how did you know about that?"

"Saw it in the picture on your story when you were modeling the animal onesies you two got to match."

"It could have been any red hoodie; how did you know it's yours?"

"I didn’t…not until now. Plus… it’s way too big." He smirked and your violent intentions flared to life.

"You little shit!" You scolded and he guffawed. You were sure your face was as red as that sweatshirt.

"How did you even get it?" He questioned and you exhaled harshly.

"I was at your house when it was just me and your sister. We had ordered pizza, but I was in my bathing suit since we were playing with the hose outside in the heat. The doorbell rang and I wasn’t answering the door in my school swimsuit, so I grabbed the first thing out of the clean laundry I could find." You shared and he hummed.

"Just you in my hoodie, hm?" His gaze had changed, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

"Oh, hush, pervert." You mumbled, glancing out the window at the setting sun. You heard the chair scrape on the floor, then felt him standing next to you, close enough to feel his warmth. Turning to glare up at him, your neck cracked having to bend back too far. He was so close. If you breathed too deeply your chest would brush against him. That thought made your breath hitch. Do not breathe. However, the air was stolen from your lungs when his hands, his BEAUTIFUL hands, cupped your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, his lips already slightly touching yours.

"Ye-" You didn’t even finish your acceptance and he instantly latched onto you. You whined, any sass draining from you instantly. Carefully, you lifted your arms and clutched his shirt above where it was tucked into his jeans. His hand moved from your jaw to back of your neck, deepening the kiss. His other hand ran down your arm and settled politely on your waist. Doyoung finally pulled away and your breath came out harsh, sucking in air. After your lung's respite, he was on you again, this time his tongue snuck past your lips, brushing at yours. You gasped and he swallowed it, backing you up till your back hit the wall. Both hands ended up pinning you in as he placed them on the wall and your hands left his side the clutch the fabric over his chest. Once again, he pulled away right as you needed to tap out for air. A small trail of saliva connected your lips, and he licked over his own, breaking the connection. He moved to bend down, most likely to kiss your neck, but you stopped him.

"We can’t, not here. Your sister could come down any minute. At least let me get the rest of my stuff. We can go to my place, it’s closer." You whispered and he backed up a bit.

"Don’t you live in a dorm?"

"Yes, but my roommate works nights." You were still so close that your lips brushed as you talked. He grunted, backing up, and you moved toward the door so fast, you almost slipped. Your left sandal came partially off, and you fixed it, before shuffling rapidly out and upstairs again. Being as quiet as possible, you entered her apartment and grabbed your other things, shoving them in your bag. You bumped your leg on the table as you moved around and fought back a grunt. His sister was still asleep, so you laid a blanket over her shoulders and shut the windows, hitting your leg again on the other corner of the table. Coming down about five minutes later, you saw he was behind the counter when you reentered, probably finishing last-minute business. You shoved all your study materials haphazardly into your bag and then waited patiently for him to finish. You were sure you looked EXTRA sexy with frizzy humidity hair, panting like an old dog with two still-forming bruises on your shins. He went into the back then came out with his own bag and smiled innocently as he met you.

"Ready?" He whispered directly into your ear, and you wanted to scream YES! but refrained.

"Yep." You tried to stay casual, and he chuckled. He led you outside and across the street to his car. It was nice, not super fancy, but still pretty nice. It was a dark blue with black leather seats. You weren’t sure your bare, sweaty thighs would love the upholstery. Getting in, you threw your bag in the back along with his and before you could reach for your seatbelt, he was doing it for you. Right as he clicked it, he gave you a brief peck on the lips. He went to start the car and your hand flung out to rest on his arm.

"Wait…I need to know, what- how do you feel about me?" You did not want this to be a one-night stand, a fling. You were pretty sure this was more than a crush, could be full-on love, and you didn’t want your heart broken. Especially not by him, anyone but Doyoung. His gaze turned to you, soft, and he sighed.

"Honestly, it was last year that I really realized what was going on. It was your birthday party at the noraebang, and you were singing with one of the guys there. I don’t remember his name. Anyway, it was a romantic duet and despite the fact that he could sing, and you cannot-"

"Hey!"

"I couldn’t stand seeing you so close to another guy. Watching you struggle to read the prompter because your contacts weren’t the right prescription, was just so freaking cute. Then you smiled at me so brightly when the song ended, at least I saw it that way. I only wanted you to smile at ME like that. I've been hiding it, because I didn’t think you would want to go out with your friend's big brother…" He tapped awkwardly on the steering wheel, giving you a sheepish look.

"My dude, that is like the most popular trope in fanfiction, you realize that right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, that and a daddy kink-"

"Okay, thanks, that's all I need to know!" He sighed again.

"I really, really like you." He finished and you brought your hand to rest on his, wrapping your fingers around his, resting them on the center console.

"I really, really, really like you." You emphasized the third really. He smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"If this is too fast for you-"

"I have been waiting YEARS for this. Drive!" You pointed forward and he laughed, doing as you said. Once you got to campus, you directed him to the parking lot nearest your dorm building. There were still people walking about in the dusk light, and you grabbed your stuff and his hand, leading him inside. Going up to your floor, you drag him down the hall, awkwardly nodding to your neighbors. They were gawking at Doyoung, and it pissed you off. You grumbled as your keycard refused to work the first time, getting more upset that you were letting them eye-hump your man…In reality it was probably because there was a dude there, not what he looked like. You finally saw the light turn green and heard the lock click open. Shoving the door open, you yanked him inside. Throwing your bag on the floor, you used your card to enter your room as he looked around the tiny dorm living room. Another room was across from yours where two other girls lived.

"Don’t worry these walls are REALLY soundproof." You reassured, shutting the door as he entered.

"How do you know that?" He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Because if one of them ever brings a guy, I don’t hear anything." You motioned vaguely. While your room was clean, bed made, you panicked upon seeing your rabbit stuffed animal on the bed. You grabbed it, its name might or might not have been Doyoung, and yeeted it into your closet.

"What are you hiding?" He teased and you closed the door to the closet, before being backed into it.

"Nothing." You tried to cover the act up by resting your forearms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his neck. He hummed suspiciously, bumping your forehead with his, before very softly kissing you. It was different than before, this felt more like love than lust. It made your head swim more than the previous kisses. He pulled back after a much shorter time, and he ran his hands over your frizzy hair.

"You're beautiful." His soft voice made you want to cry.

"So are you," You brought him down to your level again and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you so close you could feel the buttons of his shirt dig into your stomach. One hand drifted to your short-clad ass and gripped. You let out a gasp and his tongue once again invaded. He was the best kiss you'd ever had. You also had a feeling he was about to be the best in other ways too. Disconnecting your lips, he moved down, laying wet kisses and sucks on your neck. You let out a shaky exhale as he sucked over your pulse. You knew the position he was in was probably not comfortable, having to bend over so far due to his height.

"Move to the bed?" You offered and he laid one more kiss on your neck, then pulled back to allow you both to move. You barely sat down on the bed before he pushed you lightly onto your back and crawled over you. He stared warmly down at you for a second, then shoved his knee between your legs, grinding his thigh into you.

"Ah!" You moaned softly and his lips reattached to yours. He dominated the kiss, and you were totally fine with it. As his tongue wrapped around yours, your hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them as quickly as you could.

Much to your disappointment, he was wearing a white tank top underneath, hiding his bare body. He broke the kiss to remove the shirt and…fuck. Just seeing his bare shoulders did enough for you... While to many that may not be sexy, that was the most of Doyoung's skin you had seen. He smirked at your gawking, watching your reaction as he removed the tank top and let it fall to the floor next to the bed. Despite the fact that you had never heard of or seen him work out, he was nicely toned. For a man who liked to lie in bed all day, he had a nice body.

"Your turn," He argued when you tried to kiss him again. You swallowed, nervous, but none the less sat up to remove your own tank top. You were in a sports bra underneath, super sexy, and you hesitated, but removed it as well. Instantly, he was on you. He manhandled you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his lips latched onto a nipple. You sighed at the feeling, never being much sensitive there, but since it was him, you actually shivered a bit…He let go with a pop and you felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing him off. He landed on his back, using his elbows to prop himself up. Before he could question you, you straddled him, running your hands over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this." You whispered and he huffed in amusement. As you stroked his skin, his hands grasped at you, linking his fingers through the belt loops of your jean shorts. With a handle to hold onto, he pulled you down and grinded up into you. Since you were both wearing denim, there wasn’t a ton of sensation, but the act itself made you both groan. You could tell he was getting harder by the second, and you were sure your underwear was already ruined. He continued to grind up into you, making your hands falter.

"Okay!" you declared, climbing off of him just enough to move down the bed and fumble with his belt. He seemed shocked, but when he tried to protest you shot him a glare. He relaxed back onto his elbows again as you undid his pants. You rubbed his cock through the fabric of his boxers, salivating slightly. Finally pulling him out, you gasped, staring at him. While not absolutely huge, he was bigger than anyone you had been with before.

"(Y/N)-" Doyoung's thought dropped off when you ran your tongue up the length of him. Unfortunately, no moan or groan came out, be he did let out a harsh exhale. You had no idea how long you had wanted to do this, and no one, not even him, was going to stop you. Not that he wanted to stop you. After a few more licks and kisses, you wrapped your lips around the head and began to descend. Finally, he let out a light groan and it sounded heavenly. You couldn’t get all of him in your mouth without using your throat, so that’s what you did. When your lips met the skin of his pelvis and you swallowed, his arms gave out and he flopped onto his back. His gorgeous fingers dug into your scalp, gripping your hair but not moving you. You swallowed again and then began to bob your head, taking him into the base each time. He was getting louder, and his noises made you moan.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the vibration. So, you did it again.

"(Y/N) if you don’t stop, I'm gonna cum." He warned. You didn’t stop. You wanted him to cum down your throat. Continuing, if not increasing your pace and sucking strength, he let out a whining moan and thrust up slightly as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. Swallowing it all down, you slowly pulled off as he caught his breath. He looked up at you as you made sure to get every drop that had spurted around your lips. Seeing that did something to him, and he shot up, pining you down roughly against the bed. You squeaked in surprise as he rapidly undid the button of your shorts and yanked them off. He paused at your panties; they had little ducks on them. He gave you a look, to which you shrugged, and then those too were yanked off. You watched as he took his fingers and ran them up your soaked slit. You moaned, eagerly anticipating him fingering you. His hands were just so-

"Doyoung!" He had suddenly shoved a finger inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot, surprisingly so, and the pleasure shook you. Without warning he added another finger, scissoring them as you tried to catch your breath. Hovered over you, waiting till you got enough air for him to kiss you. When you could finally breathe easily, his lips attached to yours, his tongue wrapping around yours. You were in heaven, and he wasn’t even fucking you yet. You weren’t sure you could handle the pleasure. He left your lips, and you threw back your head, the pleasure of his now three fingers building rapidly.

"Oppa, I'm gonna cum." You moaned and something about the pet-name got to him, and his movements intensified, his thumb moved to your clit.

"Then do it," he ordered, and you saw white. He continued his assault, helping you ride out your orgasm. Before you got too over stimulated, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to suck your juices off. You gaped at him, body feeling limp. By that point he was completely hard again, and he spread your legs, placing one knee up over his elbow, rubbing the head of his cock against your still twitching hole.

"Oh, please-" You encouraged, and he slowly began to ease into you. The stretch stung a bit, but the overwhelming feeling and emotions overpowered it. As he slowly got deeper you tried desperately to not cum again so soon. Having Doyoung inside of you, finally, was better than you ever dreamed. He finally was in all the way, barely bumping your cervix. You felt so full.

"G-give me a second." You gripped his biceps, controlling your breaths to get used to the feeling. He kissed over your face as you got used to him, ending with a soft peck to your lips.

"Ready?" He questioned and you nodded. He started slow, barely pulling out before going as deep as he could, grinding his pubic bone against your clit. Your breath hitched each time.

"More." You pled and he smirked. He hitched your other leg up as well then began to thrust harder, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You could already feel an orgasm building, it made your head swim. Nothing had EVER felt this good. He continued the half-thrusts and after a particularly hard grind you came undone again. It shocked both of you, and he halted his movements as you clenched around him. His brows furrowed at your tight walls fluttering, trying hard not to cum himself. He wanted to give you the most pleasure he could before he finished. Once your orgasm had calmed, he began the slow pace again. He quickly built speed though and you practically screamed when he began to fuck you in earnest. You were were practically bent in half as he loomed over you, fucking you into the mattress. Your hands flew up to grip at his bare back, your nails dragging and leaving red lines. Doyoung groaned at the feeling and dug his own nails into your thighs. The slight prick of pain excited you, more than you thought it would. That was something to be explored later, though. All of a sudden, he pulled out and you exclaimed.

"What-!" With much more strength than you thought he had, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You barely kept your balance before he slammed back in, knocking your arms out from under you. Your front half fell to the bed, and you gripped the sheets to hold on for dear life. He was deeper now, each thrust ramming his head against your cervix. Tears pricked at your eyes; the pleasure so intense you almost weren’t sure you could handle it. Then, his hand came down harshly on your ass and you yelped.

"Fuck, do that again please." You pleaded and you could practically hear him smirk. He landed another hit, on the other side this time, most likely leaving a big red handprint. The somewhat flimsy wooden bed frame provided by the college rocked, the headboard knocking into the painted brick wall. If you weren’t being fucked out of your mind you would have made note that despite the unsteadiness, a lot of students had probably done something like that. That alone proved the resilience of the beds. Your hands above your head were gripping your sheets hard, and his hands left your hips to cover yours. He linked his fingers with yours, his thrusts getting slightly off rhythm. As he fucked his cock into you, each time he buried fully back into you, more of your braincells floated away. Nothing else came to mind but your impending orgasm.

"Doyoung…gon-gonna cum~." You whined.

"Me too, hold on a bit, princess," he grunted, leaning over you more, one arm wrapping around your middle, so his hand laid on your lower stomach. His thrusts got shallower, but no less deep, pressing on your tummy to feel himself inside you.

"Cum inside." You told him and he almost outright stopped.

"I'm on birth control pills, please cum inside." You pleaded and he swore several times, grinding into you. When you felt his hot cum shooting inside, it knocked you over the edge. You saw stars and swore you blacked out for a few seconds. When you came to, he was pulling out and a great deal of fluid was flowing down the inside of your thighs.

"You squirted." He informed and you barely registered what he said.

"Huh?"

"You soaked me." He chuckled and you propped yourself up to look back at him. You gaped at the very obvious splatter of wet covering his lower half.

"Shit! I'm sorry! I've never done that before!"

"Shh, it's okay. It was hot." Doyoung chuckled and you sighed in relief. You slowly let your body fall to the bed till you were laying on your stomach.

"Where’s the bathroom?"

"Second door across the living room." You waved your hand, already feeling drowsy. You listened as he partially clothed himself, pulling his underwear and pants back on, then left your room. Since you didn’t hear anything, you assumed your roommates were not home and he came back with a warm, damp washcloth. He was incredibly attentive and helped you clean up. Slowly, you sat up as he threw the towel on your dirty laundry. He picked his shirt up off the floor and handed it to you.

"I have clothes to change into," you pointed at your dresser, and he shook his head.

"Please?" He gave you a smug look and you narrowed your eyes at him. Snatching the shirt from him, you buttoned it up and you smiled at how the fabric pooled over you. The sleeves went past your hands, and you could practically wear it as a dress and still be decent to go outside. He sat on your bed, and you just stared at each other for a bit.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked, almost sheepishly. You furrowed your brow dramatically.

"What kind of question? YES, of course!" You glared and he laughed, tackling you. Since you were on a twin sized bed, you both could barely fit. He pressed his back against the wall and hugged you so close to him there was still a good four inches of bed at your back. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and reached to pull the comforter over you two.

"What about when your roommate comes home?" He asked as you cuddled. You glanced behind you at the clock.

"I'll text her; she can sleep on the couch." He reluctantly let you get up to retrieve your phone. You stood, texting, and he admired you in just his shirt.

"Be nicer if it was red."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #nct #nct 127 #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #nct doyoung #nct 127 doyoung #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #smut #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader

182 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 10 months

Text

History Repeats Itself ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 5.9K

PAIRING: Yoongi x fem!Reader

GENRE: mafia, music video inspired, twin brothers against one another, history repeating itself, fluffy ending, mentions of blood, murder, drowning, fighting, swearing,

⤜MASTERLIST

Crashes sounded from above your head and you flinched ever so slightly, your grip on the counter in front of you tightening more with every second that the low-punk thieves were on the floor above you. They'd stormed in over 20 minutes ago depending that you give them money from the tills and safe - clearly having no idea who frequently came to the restaurant otherwise they'd never have the gumption to attempt to pull off a stunt like this.

"You called him, right?" The waitress beside you question, your eyes slowly moved over to Jules as you nodded your head slightly and squeezed her hand gently. The two of you had been working inside of your uncle's restaurant since you'd been in high school together, nothing like this had ever happened until now and it was safe to say you were a little worried. But you had hope that Yoongi would be here to fix everything and soon, he'd never let anything happen to you or the restaurant.

"I did, he'll be here soon-" Before you could finish what it was that you were trying to say you had glanced over at the doors of the restaurant to see Yoongi making his way over. Dressed in some casual jeans, a white shirt and a blue jacket that honestly made your heart pump at the mere sight of him. Joining Yoongi today though were six masked men each of them carrying a 2x4 piece of wood and a metal baseball bat acting as though the world couldn't touch them even if it wanted to. Seriously though, they were untouchable to anyone around them and they knew it. No one would mess with them if they knew what was good for them.

"Yoongi," You breathed out as he reached the front desk where you were standing, a small smirk tugged on the corners of his lips as he took the bright red chopsticks you would always carry in your hair out and held them in his hand. You were shaking your head trying to figure out how to tell him all of this had even started but it had gone so fast you could barely process any of it. One second they were eating inside and the next they were yelling and screaming for everyone to give them all of the money, waving bats and knives around like they were some kind of mad-men.

"They were yelling, I was trying to distract them but before I could even think they'd gone upstairs to get the safes, my uncle is up there," Your eyes glanced in the direction of the stairs as you heard something smash, your stomach sinking as you tried not to think of what could be happening up there. They'd taken your uncle as a hostage since he was the only one with the codes to the safe and you didn't even want to think about what they could have been doing to him right now.

As if reading your mind Yoongi's hand took your chin into his grasp gently and turned you to look at him, his facial features softened as he nodded at you. Anger bubbled inside of him as he saw the cut in the middle of your lip it was obvious that one of them had hit you and he wasn't going to let it slide. His eyes flashed a slight darkness and you looked away from him, whimpering a little as you saw his hand flex. Yoongi didn't take well to people hurting those that he loved and you knew that this cut was going to mean bad news for all of those upstairs not just the one that had hit you.

"I'll fix it." Although he didn't say it, you knew it was a promise and you nodded your head and he smirked a little giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before winking and sprinting his way up the staircase.

After spending most of his time here he knew the place like the back of his hand, he also knew that if they were holding your uncle hostage he was going to be in the back part of the building where he kept the safes.

"What's the plan, boss?" Christian asked as they stood at the top of the stairs, Yoongi wanted to kill the man that had even dared to look at you let alone touch you so he had no need for dramatic effect.

"We just walk in," He smirks. The thing about Yoongi was that he wasn't about dramatic effect, he might have been one of the most feared men in Seoul but he didn't want to turn into someone that always put on some kind of show for everyone. Today was personal, everyone knew you worked here and everyone knew that you'd worked here for years and that Yoongi was a frequent visitor maybe he should have been more careful but you knew how to protect yourself thanks to Yoongi.

"What are you doing here?!" Someone screamed out as soon as Yoongi and his men walked into the top floor corridor, the man - who Yoongi assumed was a "guard" - threw down the newspaper he was reading calling for other men to come out and see what was happening. Yoongi looked at him, glaring a little.

"You come to my favourite place and expect me not to retaliate?" He smirked, shrugged his shoulders but the man just stood up and said nothing to him. He had to be around 6''2, built like a house with muscles the size of Yoongi's head but he didn't care, right now all he cared about was hurting whoever had hurt you,

"Which of you hit the girl downstairs?" He questioned, his eyes scanning the big man in front of him while a group of men stood further down the hallway watching the display. Yoongi bet that they thought their man would win, but they severely underestimated Yoongi if that were the case.

"The little slapper who was running her mouth?" The bone-headed guard clearly had no idea who Yoonhi was and Yoongi wasn't sure if it excited him more or if it drove his anger over the top level.

"Was it you?" He stared at the man who sneered a little,

"And if it was? What are you going to do? Slap my wrist and tell me I've been bad?" He cooed out, waving his hands around like he was a little girl but this only further angered Yoongi.

"The little whore deserved it. She should know not to run her mouth in front of Agust's crew." The anger that had been inside Yoongi had basically tripled more than it normally would have and he clutched the red chopsticks in his hand, running over the possible outcomes if he and his men were to kill all of those that were inside the restaurant this morning.

"Cat got your tongue?" Before the man could even process what was happening Yoongi flung himself toward him, jumping onto him before plunging the chopsticks into the guard's eye, twisting them around and killing him instantly as they went into his brain. Yoongi's men already ran ahead of him to take control of the men that were running through to come and see what all of the yellings had been about. Fights were breaking out around Yoongi as he walked down the hallway toward the main office of the building.

"You piece of shit!" Someone screamed lunging toward Yoongi who simply ducked out of the way causing the man to fly into a wall, smirking Yoongi grabbed him by the scruff of the collar, pinning him to the wall as he leaned in closer to him.

"Who's your boss?" The man was shaking as he stared up at Yoongi, something flashing in his eyes as he took a close look at Yoongis face

"A-Agust?" A smirk flashed on Yoongi's lips before he nodded for one of his men to take over for him, dropping the man as he made his way down the hall.

It was unknown knowledge that one of the most well-known police detectives was also Yoongi's twin brother, the two of them had always had a strained relationship and had never really gotten along. Both going to different private schools and making their own names for themselves in different parts of the huge city they lived in, Yoongi enjoyed the fact that no one knew of him while his brother...Agust. Practically lived off the attention he craved from those around him.

He wanted to be the most rich and powerful man in all of Seoul, maybe even the whole country but it was hard to do that when you came from nothing. Now he was a "detective" working in one of the highest-ranking police forces but also ran his own gang on the side, using his pull within the force to get away with almost anything he wanted. It had never bothered Yoongi up until this point.

Until now Agust and Yoongi would do everything that they possibly could to stay out of each other's way, deciding it was better than starting fights all of the time. Yoongi couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his brother, maybe it was the time he'd given him that nasty scar that ran down the right side of his face/eye. The two of them had been in a car accident, they’d been out all night looking for you after you’d called Yoongi terrified that you were drunk and at some party where you didn’t know anybody. It was a simple accident, you’d ran out into the road when you saw their car coming but because the two had been bickering inside of the cap when they noticed you, Yoongi swerved into the road to miss you. Agust had hit the dashboard with a force so heavy it caused the scar meanwhile Yoongi had gotten off with a broken arm and dislocated shoulder. You’d blamed yourself for all of it but Yoongi would never make you feel bad for an accident that happened when you were drunk.

"Yoongi," Your uncle breathed out as soon as he walked into the small office, the man that was standing in front of your uncle slowly turned on his heel but before he could even open his mouth Yoongi threw a knife in his direction, hitting him in the chest and smirking as he fell down to the ground.

"Did Yn call you?" Your uncle questioned as Yoongi made his way over to him, cutting the ropes that tied him to the chair,

"Yeah, I took care of everything." He smiled at your uncle who was quick to wrap him in a tight embrace, he knew Yoongi didn't like physical touch that much but this was something he was in need of.

"Someone called the cops, they're on their way." Someone panted from the doorway, your uncle shoved some cash into a duffle bag and handed it to Yoongi.

"Payment for keeping us safe as well as some extra," He winked before shoving Yoongi out of the room and watching as he sprinted down the hallway, they needed to be out of the area before police arrived. If Agust had arranged this then he needed to be gone before his brother could see him, the last thing anyone wanted was for Agust to know Yoongi was still seeing you.

The three of you had been close when you were younger, back before jealousy had taken over and Agust grew to hate Yoongi for everything.

"Where's Yn?" Yoongi asked as he came back down the stairs to find Jules cleaning up on her own, she shrugged her shoulders a little when sirens began to bast from outside,

"Yoongi!" Your voice rang out from down the street as you opened up the passenger side door of your car, waving him over as he sprinted in your direction sliding into the car before the door slammed and you sped off.

"Don't you have a shift to finish?" He questioned cockily as he did up his seatbelt - he trusted your driving of course but it was the other drivers on the road he wasn't so sure of.

"Agust was coming, figured it best I get out of there before he caught wind I was still in Seoul," You mumbled, your hands tightening on the wheel as you sped through the roads trying to make your way toward the main stretch of roads. Yoongi's place was right on the outer parts of town "shadowlands" he called it to you and him.

"Teaching you to drive might have been the best idea I ever had," Yoongi smirked at you, his eyes lighting up as you focused on driving.

"It's hot," He groaned as he watched you concentrating on weaving yourself in and out of other cars on the road as well as doing your utmost best to avoid the cops.

"What? Me driving?" You laughed weakly, glancing in the mirror to make sure there was no one tailing you, as soon as you did you slowed down a little trying to blend into the other cars around you.

"Yeah," He growled leaning over and kissing down your neck, his hands running up and down your thighs as you whined at him.

"You're a pig." You joked, slapping his hands playfully as he smirked at you even more.

"A pig that loves you," Your heart practically lept into your throat as you turned and smirked at him,

"I love you too handsome." You quickly kissed his cheek before heading in the direction of his place, ready to relax for the night and show him just how appreciative you were of him coming to save you today.

"Are you ever going to quit that shit?" You grumbled, snatching the lit cigarette from your boyfriend's mouth and throwing it out of the open window.

"I thought you found it hot." Yoongi quipped at you, remembering all the years you told him how hot he looked whenever he would smoke. But that was years ago when the two of you thought smoking was "cool" and the "bad person" type of thing to do, now it just ruined your life and took people you cared about away from you.

"Yeah, when I was 18 and you were the "bad boy" type. Now it just means you're going to die sooner than me." You pouted a little before Yoongi chuckled a little watching you from behind. You were staring out into the city below you, wondering how long it was going to be until you could finally get away from it all and run away together.

"Nothing can take me away from you baby," He told you, putting his hands onto your hips and drawing you back into him, your ass pressed against his crotch as he placed kisses up and down your neck. Your hands found his as you held onto him and whimpered a little, he was always so touchy with you in private and you adored every second of it.

"Yoongi," You giggled, wriggling away from him and going over to the fish tank that the two of you had gotten a few weeks back to check on the little guy.

"I'll put the money away," Yoongi told you as he made his way over to the small safe inside the apartment. It wasn't the only place he stored your money, of course, he had placed different hiding spots all over Seoul where he'd decided to hide money in.

"How close are we to the goal?" You questioned as you carefully fed the goldfish that the two of you had gotten together. You'd won him at a funfair a few weeks back and never imagined it would have survived this long since not many of them did.

"Closer than you think," He promised as he opened the safe, it was practically full to the brim with cash that the two of you had been saving up for years. All with the intent of running away to get a completely fresh start together, somewhere you didn't have to hide from a detective and Yoongi didn't have to steal for a living.

"My tips tonight will help," You called out as you walked toward the bedroom area of his studio apartment, going through the small suitcase of stuff you kept over. You needed to get changed before your shift at the club you worked at and if you didn't head off soon you were going to be late and that was the last thing you needed tonight.

"Trust me, we're not going to need much more," He watched you as he sat down on the sofa, smirking at you as he watched you strip down into nothing before pulling on a brightly coloured bikini and pulling some jeans and a baggy shirt over.

"I'm going to send Jin to watch over you tonight." Yoongi couldn't put his finger on it but something didn't sit right with him today and he wanted you to have some protection while you were dancing tonight.

"He scares the men away when you bring him," You turned to look at Yoongi, slowly making your way over to him before sitting down in his lap and smiling at him. Yoongi knew Jin scared the men off since that was his job, Yoongi loved and trusted you more than anything in the world but the thought of having random men ogling you all night drove him wild. On the nights he couldn't go to the club in disguise he would send someone he trusted, someone who would watch over you for him.

"He does?" Yoongi questioned, playing dumb but you rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

"I need my tips Yoongi and if he's there I can't get them," You'd been working as an exotic dancer for a few years now to help bring in some more money for your escape plan. The money was exceptional on good nights but even on bad nights, the money was still relatively good enough for you to survive on.

"You need to lay low tonight so you can't come either," You warned him, your fingers slowly running up and down his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

"How do you know everything I'm thinking before I say it?"

"I'm special." You wink at him, leaning down and kissing him deeply. As soon as your lips connected it was as though everything around you melted away, the worries from earlier that morning were gone and replaced with a feeling of warmth and home. Yoongi had always been your safe space, that one person you could go to when the whole world was falling apart around you and yet somehow he made it all feel okay again.

"As soon as I'm back tonight we'll pack, okay?" You questioned as you finally got up from his lap, looking over at the bath that stood in the middle of the room. Yoongi nodded his head, bringing you into a quick kiss once again before you giggled a little,

"Have a bath, you're covered in blood and sweat." You gently ran your thumb over his cheekbone before getting up and heading for the front door. Yoongi's eyes didn't leave your body until the door was shut and even when it was the crushing feeling that something was wrong never left him.

"Everything is fine," He whispered to himself, grunting as he made his way over to the bath filling it with hot water before making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He put his uneasy feeling down to the adrenaline of earlier and he shook his head, pouring himself a nice cold glass of whiskey, downing it before making his way over to the bath and striping down.

A few minutes of shut-eye under the hot water would make him feel better, hopefully it would relax him enough and he could chill out until you got home for the night. Once you were home he was going to make a move on getting all of the cash he had together so that the two of you could leave.

You'd barely made it onto the streets under you were grabbed from behind, your arms pinned against your back as someone pressed something against your temple. It didn't take a genius to work out that there was now a gun pressed against your temple,

"Don't scream, don't kick and don't try and make a scene," The familiarity of that voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you and you bit back an insult to spit in Agust's direction,

"Not even a comment? I'm hurt, usually, you have a few choice words when you see me Yn." You stared at him as he came into view, one of his men tightened his grip on you as you struggled a little. Whenever you saw Agust it was like an instinct took over you and you wanted to kill him for even breathing the same air as you.

"Dressed like this on a night? I can only assume you're going to CooKee's," He knew the name of your club meaning he'd more than likely been watching you and Yoongi for a while and knew exactly what you were up to. You hated that he'd been watching you and neither of you had even noticed, all of this had to have been a set-up.

"Was today part of your plan? Huh? Stalk me like the creeper you are and then kidnap me? Because if you think taking me and forcing me to stay is going to make me fall in love with you, Agust, I have news for you," You stared at him glaring a little, as much as you wanted to bite your tongue and not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pissing you off you couldn't help it,

"You've been watching too many movies. The beauty doesn't fall in love with the beast." You spat down at his feet and instantly he grabbed your face, holding it tightly in his grasp as he forced you to look at him. Your eyes found his as he glared at you, a darkness behind his eyes you'd never seen in anybody else before and you knew if he really wanted to he could just kill you in an instant.

"And whose fault is it that I'm a beast?! Huh?!" He shook your head forcibly before letting go and staring at you, a laugh erupting out of him as he shook his head.

"It was an accident, I was drunk." You mumbled at him, your arms beginning to ache with how tightly they were being held against your back.

"Let's go inside, you can let my brother know I'm here to see him and take back what's mine." You scoffed at that, none of that money was his.

"Yours? The money you sent your boneheaded men to come and steal? From MY uncle?"

"You're a gobby little shit, I can see why Bruce busted your lip. I see that you kept your vicious little mouth."

"Bruce? Nice to know the name of the man Yoongi killed." Suddenly you were lifted into the air by the man behind you who was growling a little.

"Yn, meet Bruce's brother, Vincent," Agust smirked as you were carried back into the building where Yoongi lived, your legs kicking as you attempted to get out of this man's arms and stop them from going inside.

"YOONGI!" Agust's voice rang out chipper as he booted the door to his apartment open to see Yoongi sitting in the bathtub. As soon as Yoongi saw you in someone's arms and struggling to get away he reached for his gun but Agust shot a bullet into the ceiling.

"I wouldn't touch that if I was you." Agust aimed the gun at you this time and chuckled darkly to himself. He prided himself on being the brother that didn't care about hurting anyone around him and he enjoyed hurting people.

"Yoongi, listen to him." You pleaded as you looked at him, he glanced at you and smiled weakly. He knew that his sinking feeling was for a reason and he hated that you were being dragged into all of this.

The gun that Agust was holding slowly turned to be aimed at Yoongi's temple this time,

"You're going to tell me where all the money is," Agust told him, cocking back the gun and taking the safety off, you threw your legs around to try and get out of the man's grasp but you were stuck.

"Why? I thought you had more than enough with your job and side hustles." You hated that Yoongi was taking the time to be cocky toward his brother despite a gun being pressed toward him,

"You have dirty money, it belongs to other people. People you stole from," The barrel of the gun was pressed against Yoongi's skin but he didn't flinch, he didn't even so much as break a sweat.

"At least I'm not a dirty cop." He spat out before he was hit with the gun, you screamed out watching as Yoongi's head fell forward and a bit of blood dropped from his mouth.

"Last chance, give me the money." The gun was once again aimed at Yoongi, Agust's finger was on the trigger but Yoongi was refusing to answer or even look at his brother. Instead, he was staring at you with a weakened smile on his lips, as if this was his way of saying goodbye. Before you could think about what was happening you threw your head back into the nose of the man holding you, busting it as he dropped you onto the floor,

"I'll tell you! I'll tell you where it is just leave him alone!" You screamed out, rushing to Yoongi's side and slapping the gun out of Agust's hand and knocking it onto the floor. The twins stared at you as Yoongi eyed you up suspiciously,

"Let Yoongi go and you can have the money," You made your way over to the safe, looking at Yoongi as your eyes quickly flicked to the cigarette that was lit and inside of Agust's mouth.

"You're too slow!" Agust boomed out as you unlocked the safe, pulling it open to reveal stacks of cash that were now falling onto the ground.

It was mere seconds that it had been open before Yoongi took the cigarette from his brother's lips, smirking before throwing it into the safe. You'd never seen money go up in flames so fast before and you moved away from it all.

"Now no one can have it." You smirked, looking at Yoongi with a proud smile as he winked at you a little. If it was between giving the money to Agust or burning it, you'd burn it 10 times over.

"You're a silly little bitch!" Agust screamed before pushing his brother's head into the water. You didn't have time to react before you were grabbed by the same goon as before, your legs flailing around as you attempted to stop Agust from killing Yoongi.

"LET FUCKING GO OF ME YOU CUNT!" You squealed before something hit the back of your head, your legs suddenly felt too heavy to move and you watched helplessly as your boyfriend struggled to fight back against his brother,

When You eventually woke up you were tied to a chair in some kind of shipping container yard, surrounded by a bunch of men in all-black suits. In front of you was Yoongi who was hunched over a barrel of water, his hair dripping wet and his hands tied together in front of him as he panted heavily. You had no idea how long this had been going on but you wanted it to end and you wanted it to end right now.

"How nice of sleeping beauty to wake up and witness all of this." You struggled against the chair as a bald man dipped Yoongi's head back under the water, you screamed out begging for them to stop but none of them would listen to you and you knew that.

"Now, now. No struggling or you might hurt yourself," Agust made his way over to you, smirking as he took your chin into his hand and turned your head to look up at him. You hated him with every fibre of your being and all you wanted to do was kill him but being tied to a chair didn't give you many options on how to do that.

"You know if you'd wanted me instead of him he never would have corrupted that pretty little brain of yours." You stared at him, nostrils flaring as you held back your comments,

"You wouldn't have to be a dirty little whore that stripes for spare change." By now he was face to face with you and you spat into his face, earning a slap across your face as you let out a small whimper.

"I may not be rich like you, but at least I have morals. I'm not a dirty cop." You grumbled before he started laughing rather loudly at you,

"You sleep beside a murderer, you've killed a few people as well, now, what kind of morals are those?" Your smile fell from your face, he knew everything? You'd only killed when you had to or when you were in real danger but you knew Yoongi had killed too.

"Or when you're working three jobs to keep yourself fed," You stared at him as you shook your head, you didn't care what you had to do in order to survive. You loved Yoongi and nothing would change that.

"If you were with me, you'd never have to work a day in your life, everything you could ever want would be at the snap of your fingers." Agust was standing behind your chair now, his hands on your shoulders as you watched Yoongi constantly being dipped under the water only to be dragged up right before he could drown or pass out. You had no idea how long they'd been doing this to him but he looked exhausted, his face pale and his facial features were beginning to look sunken.

"You never wanted this life, Yn. I remember what you wanted," He whispered in your ear, his breath on your skin made you want to crawl into a ball and die.

"You wanted to be treated like a queen. Long walks on the beach, waking up with someone by your side. Richer than you could ever imagine being."

"That was when I was young and foolish," You hissed out at him, you hadn't thought about that kind of life in years. You knew it was practically impossible.

"It can all be real, just come to me,"

"Why? Why do you want me?" You questioned, staring at him as he smirked at you. Agust had always wanted everything that Yoongi had, nothing was ever good enough for him. If Yoongi was happy then Agust wanted that thing to be taken away from him and he would stop at nothing until that happened.

"Because he has you." Yoongi was once again dipped into the water and you whimpered, watching helplessly as he was pulled back out. Your eyes flashed behind the bald man that was drowning Yoongi and you tried not to let a smirk show on your face.

There were some things that Agust clearly didn't know about his men or about life in general and that was that not everyone could be trusted. A few men that were standing and watching his display worked for Yoongi and you'd even seen them at your club before. Among the men though there was Jin, who was staring at the barrel and waiting for you to notice. There had to be some kind of plan in action and you had no idea what it was, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to distract Agust from watching him.

"If I agree, you'll leave him alone and you won't touch him." You told Agust suddenly, trying to get him to stand in front of you again but he simply moved to stand beside you, his eyes on his brother the whole time.

"Sure." He shrugged, not really agreeing to it. You knew that there was no way Agust would just let him go but you needed to distract him long enough for whatever plan Jin had in play.

"I want your word on it! Look at me!" You screamed, wriggling in the chair as you attempted to move it but Agust's handheld you in place as he turned to look down at you.

"You'll let him leave Seoul, no one tailing him. He gets out and you get me." You told him, staring him deep in the eyes as he smirked at you, pretending to think it over as he looked down into your eyes.

"You have my word, princess." You could tell by the smirk on his lips that you couldn't trust him but you smiled weakly.

"T-Thank you." He turned to look at the man who was holding Yoongi under the water and made a throat-cutting action,

"You asshole!" You screeched out kicking the chair out from under you as you hit the ground with force, the chair smashing as you watched the display. Yoongi was pulled from the water, a gun cradled between his hands as he took aim at his brother. Seconds felt like hours before Agust's laugh began to die down, shots ringing loudly.

"Yoongi," You breathed out as he lent against the water barrel, catching his breath as he tried to calm down from almost drowning, his head rushing with adrenaline.

"Untie her, NOW!" He boomed out, four men rushing to your side as they untied the ropes from your ankles and wrists. You scrambled to your feet and rushed into his arms, looking at him as he smirked down at you,

"I told you nothing could take me away from you." You hit his chest softly,

"You knew he was going to come for you?" You frowned, wondering why he'd let it get this far if he'd known from the start but Yoongi shook his head. He was smart but he wasn't that smart,

"No. But I always make sure I'm ten steps in front of him. I've had my people with him for years," He kissed your temple softly before carefully lifting your wrists to his lips and kissing them softly where you had been bound.

"We can get out of here now. We'll go wherever we want," He told you, kissing your wrists again as you nodded at him,

"Japan," You told him as he smirked at you. The two of you had always planned to go to Japan together and he was more than happy to oblige with whatever your heart desired.

It had been months since the incident in Seoul had happened and as you sat in the small restaurant in Japan you watched the news. It was reported that the case for Detective Agust's case had run cold and would officially be shut by the end of the year.

"After information was found that Dectivie Agust was dirty we have reason to believe his own men took him out." You gulped a little and looked at Yoongi who was smirking at you.

"I told you everything would work out." He fed you some noodles with his chopsticks and you felt your body heating up a little,

"You're always right," You mumbled, leaning across the table and kissing him softly before he laughed softly.

"I know I am." He winked before you shook your head, going back to reading the book you had in front of you. It was a history book about the Kingdom of Joseon and about two twin brothers who had fought for their right to rule the kingdom. Ending in the death of the tyrant ruler and leaving his brother to rule by the side of his girlfriend.

"These twins look too similar to you," You mumbled, turning the book around so that Yoongi could see the picture of the twins that was inside the book.

"Maybe history repeated itself." He winked at you before eating from his bowl and letting you get back into your book.

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