#I can’t for the life of me not click that beautiful show anyway button | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuzukult · 3 years ago

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.�� And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Burn The Witch 9 - Eye to Eye [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Late night visits can be unpleasant.

Series Masterlist

Here’s something they didn’t tell you during your spy training;

The world’s deadliest assassin made a cute boyfriend.

For the last couple of days, he had been the perfect gentleman but aside from him dropping by the milkshake shop once, you could barely see him. The spy in you kept urging you to ask him where he was just in case it was an important information you could put on your latest report, but somehow you thought it would maybe be pushing him too much.

You looked over your shoulder to take a look at your surroundings and make sure you weren’t being followed by anyone, still holding the phone to your ear.

“You have nothing to worry about,” you assured Bucky, “I don’t mind, we can meet another time.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

You tried to ignore the smile pulling at your lips at the term of endearment. “Bucky, I told you. I’m not going anywhere, we have all the time in the world. Well, all the time except for tonight.”

“It came up at the last minute.”

“Mm hm, you mentioned that,” you sat down on the bench, looking up at the tall building, “But I don’t know, it sounds a little like you have another date. A hot date.”

“I mean, if you’d call Sam a hot date—“

“Oh I’d definitely call Sam a hot date,” you taunted him, making him chuckle “Have you met him? He’s dreamy and I bet he wouldn’t change date plans at the last minute, just saying.”

“Hey, come on now.”

“But as it happens, I’m sort of already seeing this brooding guy who likes to be secretive, a lot.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“You frowned at a milkshake once, Bucky.”

“The milkshake had it coming,” he pointed out, “So, seeing huh? That’s what people call it nowadays?”

“What did you guys call it back in your day?”

“Going steady.”

“I like that term better I think,” you said, drumming your fingers on your knee before fixing your skirt, “All jokes aside I get it, really. Just promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll try.” You could almost see his tentative smile and you narrowed your eyes.

“That doesn’t sound like a promise.”

“How about I visit you at the shop today?” he changed the topic, “Before we leave?”

You checked your wristwatch, “When?”

“In two hours?”

“Oh that works!” you said, “My shift starts in the afternoon, I’ll be there. And I will bug you until you promise me you’ll be safe, just warning you beforehand.”

“Can’t wait,” he said, “See you in two hours.”

“See you,” you hung up, then fixed your expression and raised your chin as you walked through the security. After swiping your card to get in the elevator, you swiped it once more to be able to push the button down to the headquarters.

After you walked out of the elevator, you had to go through the retinal scan to open the last door and stepped into the headquarters, the usual rush greeting you. People were either focused on their computers, or walking around with files or talking to one another. You looked around and slowly descended the stairs to hop on Chloe’s desk, taking her by surprise. She gasped, taking off her headphones.

“Hey, when did you get here?”

“Just now.”

“You look pretty formal.”

You looked down at your pencil skirt and white blouse, then your high heels. “Yeah I mean, I have to report to the General, I can’t just show up in that weird pin up uniform. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from others.”

“Right. Because every single agent here needs to be intimidated by you.”

“Not a necessity, but surely doesn’t hurt.” You wiggled your brows, “Is Keith around?”

“He’s on his way, asked me if I wanted coffee.”

You tilted your head, “Huh. He’s bringing you coffee?”

“Oh he’s just being nice,” she said, smiling at you brightly “Anyways, tell me everything. I haven’t seen you in days, how’s it going with Barnes?”

“Why, what have you heard?”

She scoffed, “Nothing you paranoid. Why, should I have heard something?”

“No,” you said in a haste, “Not at all, just curious.”

“So how’s it going with him?”

“It’s going fine,” you muttered, “We’re going steady.”

“What does that mean?”

You shifted your weight and crossed your legs, “We’re da—ehm,” you cleared your throat, the word feeling way too strange to even you, “Dating?”

She let out a squeal and you shushed her, looking around. “Chloe—“

“You’re actually dating! Like romantically. Dating dating.”

“As a cover, yes.”

“How was the kiss? Tell me everything about the kiss!”

“Chloe, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you remember that this is a fake relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t make it less romantic.”

“Yes it does. It definitely does.”

“The kiss?” she insisted, “Did he do something….old timey?”

“During the kiss?” you felt the need to ask, “Chloe, people have been kissing each other for centuries, what exactly do you think was different in the 1940s?”

She opened her mouth to retort but then her eyes found something over your shoulder and someone placed a coffee cup in front of her. You turned your head to see Keith sipping his own coffee.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” you greeted him, “Where’s my coffee?”

“There’s a coffee machine in the hallway.”

“But that’s not artisanal.”

“Sucks to be you.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head, “You’re such a—”

“Y/N, he’s ready to see you.” General’s assistant approached you and you pushed yourself off the table.

“Wish me luck,” you said and followed her to General’s office. She motioned at you to go in and closed the door behind her when you did, leaving you alone with him.

General was looking out of the window with his hands in his pockets but turned around when you walked in.

“Shrike.”

“Hello General.”

“I went over your report last night,” he said, not beating around the bush, “Can we say that your relationship actually started then?”

“I think so, yes.”

“You think so,” he repeated and you pushed your hair behind your ear.

“I’m sure, sir.”

“Your report did not exactly provide us with any information on him,” he stated, “Or his actions lately. What is he doing, where is he going….with Captain America?”

“General, we have to keep in mind that this is Bucky Barnes,” you said, “Me actually getting close to him will be much slower than any other target. He doesn’t trust anyone—“

“You got information from drug lords and mob bosses, Y/N. They’re not exactly the trusting type.”

“That’s right, but none of those had over 80 years of spy experience.”

“He wasn’t a spy, he was an assassin.”

“An alone assassin,” you insisted, “I don’t put this lightly, he trusts maybe….I don’t know, three people in the entire world. You trusted me with this mission, just let me do it my way. By the time—“ you tried to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth, “By the time we’re ready to bring him in, I will have earned his trust and bring you the information in the meantime.”

He clicked his tongue,

“He didn’t come upstairs with you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When your date was over, this…second date. He didn’t come upstairs with you?”

Translation: Why didn’t you sleep with him?

“He’s old-fashioned,” you managed to say, “I decided any further step would affect the mission badly.”

He nodded slowly and took his seat while you shifted your weight from one foot to another.

“Some of your superiors and I decided it’d be better to have some changes in your team,” he said and you looked up.

“Keith and Chloe—“

“They will not be replaced, don’t worry,” he said, “We’re just making some additions, that’s all. You will be informed about them soon, you can leave.”

You tried to smile and walked out of the office to close the door behind you. Gritting your teeth, you made your way to Chloe and Keith who were joking around.

“Hey, how did it go?”

“About as expected.”

“He’s in a bad mood, he and my mother had this fight last night,” Chloe said, “Don’t take it personally.”

“Do you know who they’re adding into my team?” you asked and Keith raised his brows.

“They’re adding someone?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t heard,” Chloe said, “I’ll snoop around his files when I can. Let’s hope whoever they are, they’re nice.”

You scoffed as you grabbed Keith’s coffee to take a sip.

“You’re talking about a spy, Chloe,” you said, “None of us is ever nice.”

***

Needless to say, your bad mood was there to stay for the whole day. Even after getting to the milkshake shop, you still couldn’t shake off that discomfort.

You were doing the right thing. It was just a mission, you had done it numerous times and listening to your intuition had never failed you.

No matter what your superiors thought.

You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t even notice the wind bells by the door chiming. You were doodling on a napkin while chewing on the straw of your milkshake, ignoring the clutter of mason jars Tara was currently putting on the shelves.

“Hi beautiful.”

Your head shot up and your eyes caught the sight of Bucky standing across from you on the other side of the counter. A smile you couldn’t stop pulled at your lips without you having to force it and you let out a breath.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed and went under the counter to throw yourself into his arms. He wrapped his arm around your waist to lift you up, then brushed his lips against yours.

“It slipped my mind—“ you stopped yourself and shook your head as he put you down, “Hi.”

“Hi back.”

You stood on your tiptoes and pecked him on the lips again. Somehow, having him there made your day feel not as terrible as it had been so far, probably because your cover had a much simpler life.

That was it. No other reason.

“I’m pretty sure health regulations do not approve of this,” Tara’s voice pulled you apart and you let out a giggle.

“Sorry about that ma’am,” Bucky said and Tara grinned.

“Ma’am, huh?” she asked, “You, I like you. You have any friends who are as nice as you, lover boy?”

“I think they’d be too old for you,” he stated, making you raise your brows. Tara looked between you two.

“Is he a vampire?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Still trying to figure that one out myself,” you said “Is it okay if I step outside for a moment?”

“You mean in this crowd?” Tara asked, motioning at the completely empty shop, “Knock yourself out.”

You tugged at Bucky’s hand to lead him out of the shop and he followed you without any protests.

“Sorry, I was going to lose my mind if I stayed there any longer.”

“Slow day?”

I wish.

“Just a bad day,” you murmured, leaning your back to the wall, “How about you? When are you leaving for this… highly dangerous mission of yours?”

“I never said it was highly dangerous,” he taunted you and you arched a brow.

“Right,” you said, “Then it’s just a little dangerous?”

“Just a little,” he nodded, “Yeah. A little maiming here and there—“

“Bucky!”

“I’m joking,” he said with a chuckle, “I promise you I’ll be safe and try to keep Sam safe. Happy?”

“Extremely, can’t you tell?” you deadpanned and scrunched up your nose, “Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be all pushy, I just—”

“No no, you’re not,” he assured you, that familiar soft light appearing in his blue eyes again, “It’s the opposite actually.”

“The opposite?”

“It’s nice to…” He thought for a moment, “It’s nice to have someone who cares.”

The unsaid about me hung in the air and you felt it tugging at your heartstrings before you took a deep breath.

Focus on the mission.

“When are you leaving?”

“In a couple of minutes, I told Sam I’d meet him here.”

“Shoot, that soon huh?” you murmured, “Okay, can you maybe just… Um- I don’t—I don’t need to know where you’re going, but can you please text me something when you get there? Even if it’s just a letter or something. So that I can know you’re there.”

“We’ll probably get there in the middle of the night, is that okay?”

Middle of the night.

They were leaving the city.

You made a mental note to include it in your report and nodded fervently, “Yeah, totally!”

“So what will you be doing tonight?”

“Me?” you asked, “Oh nothing much, I was actually thinking I could meet some friends from soup kitchen. We were talking about it the other day, and it’s been almost two months since I moved here. I need to start making friends.”

“And will you be safe?”

You tilted your head, looking up at him mischievously, “If I say no, will you still go?” you taunted him, “I mean I might get mugged again. It’s a dangerous city.”

“Not funny, and I thought you said no more dark alleys.”

“But Bucky, that’s how we met!” you insisted, making him furrow his brows, “It was fate!”

“It was a prick with a gun.”

“You should really put more faith in the universe,” you said “It might surprise you one of these days. Who knows? You might even be happy.”

A soft light crossed his blue eyes and he reached out to push your hair behind your ear.

“Where on earth did you come from?” he breathed out as if he was hypnotized and you scrunched up your nose, trying to keep your head in the game.

“Oregon,” you grinned and closed your eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss but as soon as he did, someone cleared their throat quite loudly. You pulled back and looked around his arm to see Sam who seemed like he would rather be anywhere but there.

“Barnes, release the poor girl.”

“Hi Sam!” you waved at him and he smiled slightly.

“Hi Y/N.” he said, “Staying away from wasps?”

You covered your face with your hands, “Gosh, I never should’ve told you that.”

“What wasps?” Bucky looked between you too and you shook your head.

“Long story,” you said, “You two will be okay?”

Bucky took the duffel bag from Sam, “Yeah, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Your jaw dropped, a gasp escaping from you and Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you kidding me dude?”

“Why would you say something like that?!”

“What?”

“Haven’t you seen any movies?” you asked, “You never say that, ever!”

“What did I say?”

Sam threw his head back, “I’m two seconds away from going on this mission by myself.”

“What did I say?” Bucky asked again and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Stay here, both of you.” You pointed at them, then rushed into the shop to grab two plastic cups. You filled them with chocolate milkshake, then put the lids on, placed a straw in each and went outside again.

“Here, for the road.”

Sam grinned as he took his cup “I like her better than I like you, Buck.”

“Don’t call me—“ Bucky stopped himself and took his cup from you, “Thanks darling.”

“No problem,” you said, “Be careful, will you?”

“Sure thing,” he pressed a kiss on top of your head and shouldered the duffel bag, “Let’s go.”

“See you Y/N!”

“See you!” you said and leaned back to the wall as they walked away from you. You nibbled on your lip, crossing your arms.

Out of the city.

Well, at least you knew what to put on your report the next time General requested it.

***

All things considered, the mission was going well.

Just a little too well.

You flipped your phone in your hand, checking the screen for what felt like a hundredth time before turning your gaze to the TV screen. The character let out a scream and started rushing upstairs as the axe killer burst through the front door, making you shake your head.

“Sure, just go and lock yourself in the bathroom, that’s gotta help….” You mumbled, “Who the fuck is writing these?”

You grabbed your phone again to check the screen once more, then shook your head at yourself, tossing it on the couch.

“Don’t be Marco….” You muttered, “Don’t be fucking Marco, Marco ended up dead.”

“Who are you talking to?”

You jumped out of your skin and grabbed the fruit knife lying on the plate beside you to throw it at the figure but he was way too trained for it. He ducked as you jumped on your feet, then pressed a hand on your chest.

“Keith what the fuck?!”

“You got the phone number of that Chinese place around the corner?” he asked as he picked the knife off the floor to put it on the table “I can’t remember the name and I’m craving noodles.”

“How long have you been here—how the fuck did you get inside?”

“Window. Do you want noodles?”

“I could’ve killed you!”

“Oh get over yourself. Noodles?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah I could eat,” you said and found the number on your phone before tossing the phone to him, “There.”

“Thanks,” he said and took the phone to his ear, then ordered you noodles while you tried to calm down and sat down on the couch. He came to sit beside you.

“Your flowers look dead,” he pointed at the bouquet Bucky had given you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe I like them dead.”

“Okay, Morticia Addams,” he murmured, “What are we watching?”

“Scream.”

“Great, classic.” He put his feet up on the coffee table and you slipped a little on the couch.

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever wonder what got into Marco to put his life in danger?”

“Well poor bastard was in love,” he said, “Love makes you do stupid shit. Why?”

“But he was a trained agent, we’re not supposed to fall in love.”

“Maybe the target was too good in bed,” he wiggled his brows, “Don’t underestimate how good sex can make you feel like you’re in love.”

“That ever happened to you?”

“You know the true owner of my heart,” he joked and you narrowed your eyes.

“Funny you should mention that because—“ you started but then the doorbell rang. You frowned.

“Their service can’t be that fast, can it?”

“It’s literally right around the corner,” Keith said as you grabbed your gun to tuck it into the waist of your shorts and covered it with your shirt.

“Easy terminator, don’t forget to tip the delivery.”

“I’m an assassin, not a savage,” you said and walked to the door, snatching your wallet off the coffee table. You opened the door but as soon as you recognized the figure standing on your doorstep, you dropped the wallet and pulled your gun to point it at him.

“Hi Julian.”

He had the audacity to smile as he eyed the gun in your hand, then clicked his tongue.

“Hi Y/N,” he said, “Do you greet all your ex boyfriends like this, or am I just special?”

Chapter 10

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #tfatws!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you

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kaunis-sielu · 3 years ago

Text

Fire Dogs: End

The trip out to New York is uneventful. You sleep in the car occasionally but you do stop at a couple of hotels you never sleep super well. Besides there’s something about being in a car with your Alpha that just soothes you to sleep. You wake at one point and hear him talking softly on the phone.

“Nat, I don’t want a big party. It’s going to stress her out and she’s probably going to be close to a heat so I don’t want a ton of people around. Just you, Clint, Wanda, Carol and Jarvis.”

“Everyone is so excited though.”

“They’re going to have to wait. Her well-being is my first concern.”

“Steve,”

“Natasha.” He warns lowly and you hear her sigh.

“Fine. Fine. I’ve got a few places lined up for you to look at as well as a property so if building your own place is more appealing you can do that. I don’t know how sensitive your Omega’s nose is.”

“I doubt she does either. We’re about four hours out. Thanks for doing all of this Nat.”

“I’m glad you finally found someone worthy of you Alpha.” You don’t love that she calls him Alpha, so you take a deep breath so Steve knows that you’re awake.

“Thank you Natasha. See you soon.”

“Bye.” She says and Steve hangs up.

“How much did you hear?”

“Her call you Alpha.” You admit grumpily and he laughs softly.

“Are you a little jealous?” When you grumble in response he sobers up, “They all do that Omega, not just Natasha. It’s a respect thing.”

“It was jarring. You’re my Alpha.”

“I know, I’m sorry I should’ve warned you.” He soothes, his hand is warm on your thigh when he reaches over. You trace the back of his hand with one of your fingers.

“How close are we?”

“About 4 hours, you need to stop?”

“No, I was just curious. I’m nervous too, I’m meeting your pack.”

“You’re only meeting a couple today. The rest will trickle in when you’re ready, take as long as you need.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable conversation and singing along to the radio. He puts you at such ease that you forget to be anxious, at least until Steve pulls off of the freeway.

“Take a breath Honey, it’s going to be fine.” He promises and you cling to his hand as he drives for a couple more minutes then pulls up to a little house. “Let me know when you’re ready to go in.”

“Can, god this is so stupid, can you calm me?”

“Oh Honey I can absolutely do that. C’mere.” He mutters before kissing you softly, his hands cup your face and you feel the sense of calm wash over you. He pulls away from you then kisses along your jaw, before covering your mouth once more. “How do you feel Omega?” He murmurs softly and you hum lowly.

“Good.”

“Ready?”

“Yes, as I will ever be.” His calm makes you feel a little drowsy but it’s better than the panic you could be in. Steve gets out of the car and you follow him, Cooper waits patiently in the back to be let out. You take his leash and he walks calmly next to you, Steve meets you at the front of the car. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze,

“I don’t think anyone is here yet.” Sure enough when he unlocks the door the house is empty.

“Oh god it smells good in here.” You mutter softly, “Can I let Cooper wander?”

“It’s your house too now Honey. You don’t have to ask.” You unhook Cooper’s leash and he wanders around the living room. “You look good in here, you belong here.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Steve.” You tell him giving him a tight hug.

“Oh Honey.” He says gently before kissing your cheek. “Wanna see the house?” You nod and he leads you through the house showing you where things are. The doorbell rings and you tense up and the calm washes over you again as Steve presses a kiss to the side of your head. Cooper barks and you can’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all.

“Thanks Steve.” You follow him downstairs and when the door opens it’s just Sam and Bucky and a pretty blonde woman who you assume is Carol.

“Had to fight Becca to get her to stay home.” Bucky says with a punch to Steve’s arm, “thought she was gonna scream me to death when I told her ‘bout your Omega.” Carol gives you a kind smile as she follows Sam into the house, she smells like Oranges and chocolate.

“Wish she would’ve screamed you to death. Then we wouldn’t have to listen to your dumb ass anymore.” Sam says lowly.

“I see the two of you have had enough time together.” Carol says with a laugh, “Hi Fawn, I’m Carol. Sam’s much, much better half.” She doesn’t try to shake your hand or touch you in anyway which you appreciate.

“Hi, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for spoiling Sam, he says you’re one hell of a cook.” She says kindly, “We live right next door so when the boys are at work feel free to call if you need anything.” She puts a business card down on the end table then drops down onto Sam’s lap.

Next comes a young woman with auburn hair and a tall man with purple hair. Steve introduces them as Wanda, an Alpha and Viz, a Beta. They’re one of the newer pairs in Steve’s pack but it seems like everyone was just kind of waiting for it to happen. Wanda is a calm in the storm that is the three other Alpha’s currently wresting for control of the remote on your couch.

“Enough.” Steve growls at the three of them as their scents spike and you bury your face into his chest.

Natasha and Clint come next, Nat is the one that you’d heard on the phone earlier and when you see her that little possessiveness rears it’s head. She’s beautiful. “Omega.” Steve rumbles into your ear and you feel so silly for being jealous of her using his title.

“You didn’t do her justice Rogers.” She says giving you a kind smile, one you tightly return. She and Clint are both Betas, she’s more smoky smelling and he’s more earthy but both are pleasant. She calls Steve Alpha once but he quickly pulls her aside and after they talk quietly she doesn’t do it again. Overall the night is a success, and you go to bed happy.

The next day is spent looking at different houses they’re about thirty minutes outside of the city. The first neither of you is thrilled with, the second doesn’t have a yard for Cooper, the third is off a busy street and smells terrible but when you pull up to the plot of land it all clicks.

“Would you be mad if I said I wanted to build?” You ask Steve as you stand at the top of the hill the property is on. The view here is incredible overlooking a river and some woods below you.

“Not at all.” He assures you, a hand on the small of your back, “whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“It’s going to be so expensive.”

“That’s okay. I’m independently wealthy.” You stare up at him for a second to see if his kidding,

“I’m sorry what?”

“Old money. If you didn’t want to you’d never have to do another book again.”

“Why are you a firefighter?”

“I like serving the community, and I’m good at it.” You stare at him for a moment longer then look back out over the property.

“This feels right doesn’t it?”

“Yea Honey it does.” He agrees, so you sign some paperwork and buy the plot of land. You want to get building started before your heat hits and you smell like an Omega and you do so just in time. Apparently Clint runs a very successful construction firm so you get the layout of the house done in two days.

When you wake on the third day you know you’re in your heat. You wake up feeling just as tired as you did yesterday and everything smells so bad except Steve. He goes to get up and you whimper softly, and he freezes as you reach out to him.

“Honey are you in heat?”

“I think so. It’s been so long since I’ve had an actual heat.”

“Do you want to talk to one of our Omegas?”

“You actually have those?” He huffs out a chuckle.

“Yea, not many but we do. Becca is one.” A cramp hits and you gasp in surprise. Steve reaches for his phone and you grab onto his arm.

“No, I just need you Steve.”

“Omega are you sure?”

“Yes, please Steve. I wanted to be sure that without my suppressants you were still my Alpha. You are. Please.” He rolls so that he’s on top of you, his knees between yours an arm on either side of your head and his scent all around you. “You smell so good Steve.”

“So do you Omega.” He grumbles he’s about to kiss you when his phone rings. You both groan loudly before he rolls off of you and grabs it.

“What?” Someone on the other end talks, “No, my Omega is in heat.” He says before hanging up. The phone rings again before he even puts it down so he stalks to the window, opens it and throws the phone outside.

“You know there is such thing as a power button.”

“I was going to smash it so I feel like I should get some credit for my self control.” He says stalking back toward you. This time his mouth finds yours before he’s settled back over you, his dog tags hit your chest and you cling to them keeping him close to you. Steve kisses down your jaw to your pulse point then down to your scent gland.

“Do it.” You whisper, “please.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You’ve never been more sure about anything in your life. You feel his breath on your scent gland and you take a slow breath, then he bites. The pain and pleasure are so overwhelming that you black out. When you come to Steve is still placing soft kisses to your face.

“Omega. You back?”

“That was- indescribable. Thank you Alpha.”

“Careful Honey or you’re going to trigger my rut and then I won’t be able to spoil you.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled.”

“Too damn bad Honey. You’re going to be for the rest of your life. Now, I’m gonna go make some breakfast Becca always said day two was the harder day so I want to make sure you’re up to strength.” He goes to get up but you’ve still got a grip on his dog tags. “Omega.”

“You don’t wanna? I mean I thought-“

“Oh Omega I want you, terribly, but I don’t want to wear you out for tomorrow. From what I remember day one is for lots of sleep and comfort, day two is for sex and day three is for more sleep and comfort. Do you want me to have Bucky come take Cooper?”

“Yea. But you’ll have to go get your phone.”

“Damn it.” He grumbles but he gets to his feet, grabs the shirt he was wearing before bed and passes it to you before getting a clean one for himself. You pull his shirt on and sigh happily brushing your fingers gently over his mark. Steve glances over at you and gives you a small smile then holds a hand out for yours. “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I can kiss ya some more while we cook.” You nod and climb out of bed with a wide smile taking the hand he offers, you’ll gladly go wherever he goes for rest of your life.

Tag list:

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#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader au #alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha!steve rogers x reader #alpha!steve rogers x omega reader #alpha!steve rogers #firefighter #firefighter!steve rogers x reader #firefighter!steve rogers #firefighter!au #fire dogs story

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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine. | 05

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]

notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”

“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”

Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”

“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”

You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”

A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.

“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”

It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.

“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”

Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.

“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”

You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”

As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.

“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.

“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”

“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.

“That’s much better.”

///

In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.

[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something

[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

[12:36pm] You: yeah…

His response is instantaneous.

[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on

You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.

[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)

[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?

I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you

[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)

///

After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”

And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.

As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.

Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.

You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”

“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”

“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”

Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”

“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”

“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”

Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”

She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”

“My point exactly.”

Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”

Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”

“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”

You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”

If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”

You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”

Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”

“Just a few streets away, yeah.”

Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”

There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.

Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”

Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”

You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”

Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”

Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”

The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”

///

You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.

The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.

“Hey, you made it!”

Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”

“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”

“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.

He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.

“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.

“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”

You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”

“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”

You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”

Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. ��I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”

“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”

“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”

Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.

Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”

With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”

You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.

“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”

Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”

She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”

“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”

You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.

Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”

“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”

You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.

“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”

Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.

“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.

It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”

///

You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.

“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”

“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”

“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.

“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”

A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”

“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”

You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.

The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.

The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.

“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”

///

“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.

“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”

“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”

Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”

“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”

Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”

Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.

You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.

“Care to help me carry the rest in?”

“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.

Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.

You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.

“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.

[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?

By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.

[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out

[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company

There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.

Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.

The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”

You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”

“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.

“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”

Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”

You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”

Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”

You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.

“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”

That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”

Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”

“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”

“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”

“Won’t argue with you there.”

The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.

It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”

You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.

The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.

You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.

You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”

“Night, Jungkookie.”

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.

So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.

///

There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.

7:03am.

Shit.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.

“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.

Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.

You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.

“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?

And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.

So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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creepytoes88 · 4 years ago

Text

Let me spoil you, baby

Y/n’s Pov

Dating Vinnie wasn't what I expected I never was a big social media person but everyone and their uncle has tiktok. Chances are if you have tiktok you have seen Vinnie so needless to say I had a major crush on him. After seeing all the seemingly “Perfect” girls he hung around with. I never thought I had a chance, ya know besides the fact that I was a nobody. However living in LA is never boring and it never disappoints I saw Vinnie's cute ass on melrose, I'm not what you would call a “skinny” girl I have relatively small breast and a pleasantly plump butt as my mother would say. I'm not ashamed of my less then flat stomach either I don't need anyones approveal to be happy with myself. However back when I first met Vinnie that was a different story I was too shy to come up to him and say hello so I just admired him from where I was standing before walking away right passed him and his friends.

I walked into the nearest store and began to look at clothes picking out a pair of nice mom jeans and a vintage Cheech and Chong shirt. I heard the bell attached to the top of the door jingle as I walk to the jewelry part of the store I began to look at the earnings and necklaces. “How’s your day been so far beautiful?” I look up towards the voice ready to tell them to fuck off but I look up to see Vinnie Fucking Hacker. I quickly recover and Smile pulling myself together “I've had a great day! how has your day been?” I smile at him “it was alright but like 10 minutes ago I think I saw the most beautiful woman in my life walk into this store so I had to pray and hope that she didn't leave.” I widen my eyes looking around seeing no one “Did she leave?” Vinnie let out a laugh “No I'm actually talking to her, if you have time I would love to grab coffee or lunch with you, right now, on me of course!”

I drop my mouth a little before looking around for the cameras “um I would love too... My names Y/n by the way, I won't lie to you I know who you are Vinnie.” I say with a sad tone half expecting him to cancel “good now I don't have to explain why people are taking pictures of me” he says as he holds out his hand “are you ready to check out or are you still shopping?” he says with a small smile “Oh yea I'm ready I can always come back anyway” I smiled back at him as I grab his hand and walk towards the cashier setting down my clothes and jewelry she quickly rings then up “That’s gonna be $357.45.” I smile and start to take my card out when suddenly Vinnie hands her 400 hundred dollars I turn to him with my mouth wide “Why did you just do that please get your money back” Vinnie laughed at me grabbing his change and the receipt “you can pay it back to me by going to dinner with me again tomorrow?” I look at him we haven’t even gotten food yet and he’s trying to schedule another date “your not paying for my food this time or next though you just lost those privileges” I say with a sassy attitude grabbing my bag and walking out Vinnie following close behind.

Fast forward to now we never really tried to hide our relationship we just let it grow naturally and didn’t speak on it. Everyone has recently been hating on me jealous girls calling me ugly and fat, at first it didn't even affect me. I know Vinnie love me but in the back of my mind it bothered me it hurt my feelings. I didn't tell Vinnie, I don't want him to feel bad or worry there is nothing anyone can do to make them stop so I just lived with it. It's been 3 weeks since I've been getting hate in my DMs on every platform everyday I wake up and it keeps piling up. I look at them again before clicking my phone off and getting in the shower to release some tension and stress.

Vinnie's Pov

“Alright ill see you guys later!” I yelled at the boys running up to my door step we just got back from the skate park and I was so Gross and sweaty. I open the door and make my way upstairs as I walked into Y/n and I’s room slipping off my shoes and stripping myself of all my sweaty clothing except my boxers I fall flat on the bed. “Ouch” I said as I felt my forehead connect to a hard surface “what the fuck” I said in a soft voice holding my head I look down and see Y/n phone a smirk spreading across my face. I'm gonna tweet weird things off her twitter I think to myself as I open her phone I see her DMS are open and people are saying some pretty nasty things I look at the other social media platforms. I'm shocked and I'm pissed how could they even say such thing about Y/n the sweetest, most humble and beautiful person I have ever met or seen for that matter. I click off the phone and place it on the bed side table hearing the shower turn off quickly I pick up my clothes off the floor and shut the door I watch as my beautiful girlfriend comes out “boo.” I say behind her seeing her jump in the air slightly “fuck baby you scared me” she said turning around kissing my lips before turning and grabbing her lotion. Now usually when Y/n gets out of the shower she drops her towel and puts on lotion before getting dressed this time she picks it up along with her clothes and speeds off to the bathroom quickly shutting the door. “What are you doing sweetie?” I ask softly before tapping on the door “n-nothing...just getting dressed”

I bit my lip slightly “baby this doesn't have to do with what I saw on your phone does it?” no reply so I tried the doorknob and it was locked “baby let me in please” I hear sniffles and shuffling “let me g-get dressed fir-” I growl slightly not even noticing “now princess” I once again her shuffling before the door clicks. Pulling the poor open I rushed in seeing Y/n naked and basically covering herself looking at the ground “oh no baby look at me” I say softly walking over to her “please beautiful” she sniffles before looking at me I see tears are running down her face. I simply kiss them away “please don't hide yourself from me baby” I kiss her cheeks and her forehead “I love you and I care about you I think you're perfect” I say before kissing her lips. Slowly she dropped her arms kissing me back harder I take my hands to her thighs picking her up which we usually don't do she would always complain and get uncomfortable. This time was no different “mmm no vinnie put me down” I kissed her lips squeezing her thighs “i got you I promise baby just to the bed” she finally wraps her legs around me her arms leaving the wall going to my hair. She wasn't even hard to lift let alone carry 20 feet I wish she didn't think and feel this way about her self. I walked her straight to a wall completely skipping the bed.

“I'm gonna show you how beautiful and amazing you are my sweet girl” I began kissing her lips and grinding against her my hard shaft against her bare clit moans spilling out of her mouth immediately. I grab her full breast in my hands playing with her soft nipples as I kiss down her neck whimpers coming from her mouth. My hard cock grinding harder against her as my mouth attacks one of her nipples my hand attacking the other pinching and pulling. Her moans get louder as I switch nipples I leave little hickeys on her boobs and chest making my way up her neck. I could feel her legs gripping onto me and her hips thrusting against mine “oo-ooh shit Vin... I'm gonna cum” she says in a hot breathy tone I kiss her lips pulling one of her knees up onto my shoulder and gasp leaves her mouth letting me enter my tongue I grind faster as I abuse her sweet mouth with my tongue swallowing her moans and pants. Her thighs shaking slightly pulling away I kiss her cheeks grabbing her other leg tossing it over my shoulder so her full body weight was against me and the wall. Her sweet pussy staring me in the face I could smell her and I moaned spreading her legs wider hearing her gasp I smirk “you smell so good baby mind if I have a taste?” she just whines and kicks her legs slightly “mmm I'll take that as a yes baby.”

I say with a smirk dropping my head slightly my nose poking around her clit and my tongue plunged as deep as I could possibly get in moans spilling from my mouth as her taste fills my mouth. Clouds cover my brain all I can think about is making my baby cum. I was making a deep growling sound in my chest and didn't even notice it everytime she tried to pull away from my mouth and nose it got louder almost like a warning to stay still. “Ahh Vinnie baby please” I started to get curious and before I know it I feel my tongue swipe across her pink button and load moan and gasp along with her grinding her hips into my face I assume she likes it. I do it again this time swirling around it making it known I'm doing it on purpose “Vinnie why are you doing that?” she say grinding against me “Do you want me to stop?” I answer her question with a question she throws her head back and moans “noooooo please more!” I pull her from the wall walking to the bed I drop her. Y/n spreads her legs apart looking up at me “butt in the air Princess spread your legs as far as you can get them.”

She flips over her hands and elbows holding her up that's not exactly what I want tho “spread your ass and pussy for me baby” I say with little smirk she lays on her face and knees as her hands pull her butt cheeks apart with a little moan. I look down admiring her sweet little holes staring at me I let out a wolf whistle “damn beautiful....i can't wait to taste you again” I grab ahold of her soft asscheeks in my hands as hers fall to her sides. I lick a thick stripe over her clit all the way to her button slightly entering my tongue before licking around it again “please daddy” I look up at her pushing my thumb in to her greedy pussy “yess daddy more please” I chuckle “what more could you want baby?” she slightly blushes turning her head the other way “mmmm baby Daddy isn't a mind reader if you want something you have to speak up.” I say with a smirk “p-please ea-” she shakes her head and takes a deep breath “please eat me” I chuckle she's so cute “eat what baby?”

I rub her thigh with my other unused hand and kiss her squishy butt cheeks definitely enjoying myself “God I love your bubble butt princess it's amazing If I had my way I would sleep on it, roll on it, and most definitely eat it” I say giving her the ok to ask biting down on her ass “YES YES DADDY EAT MY ASS PLEASE” I laugh before spreading her open and I lay a kiss on her wet hole as a moan leaves her mouth I lick around for a second before slipping my tongue in slightly before pulling out. Her moans and whimpers music to my ears I repeat this a few times till I think she's loose enough to put my tongue fully in “ready my dirty little girl” she moans in response and I slip my tongue fully into her as both my thumbs attack her clit and slit “FUCK DA-ADDY MORE PLEASE” I eat her like crazy shaving my tongue in between both holes as I slap her ass and clit “OOOOH FUCK IM CUMMING” she yells as I feel wetness on my chin and fingers.

I pull away dropping down next to her before turn my head to meet her gaze “sit on my face Princess” I say as I pull her hand she slowly moves over to me with wild eyes I pull her over me before pulling her hips down to meet my face she was completely sitting on my face with all her weight as I dive my tongue in for a third time occasionally slipping it in her butt making her moan and grind against my face “Daddy I'm coming already” she says humping my face with her hands in my hair “MMMMM” she gasps as she cum on my face for the 4 time “fuck princess you ready”

I say as I pull my boxers down she nods as she lays down spreading her legs for me “such a good girl for Daddy” I pick up one of her legs wrapping it around my hip tossing the other over my shoulder before slipping into her. I grunt as her walls squeeze around me I hear her moan “shit daddy your so big” I give a breathy laugh “i think your just tight baby” I say before I thrust into her. Moans leaving both of our mouths as I pound into her I pull out flipping her over and push back in “AH” she groans “you good baby” I say as I thrust softly “ye-YES” I smirk pushing into her as deep as possible “can I put my babies inside of you baby” she gasp and turns her head to look at me “i wouldn't want anyone else to spend my life with and I can't think of ayone I would rather raise my kids with then you baby” she drops her head moaning as she thrust her hips back in to me “flip me back over so I can hold it in Daddy we might not get lucky the first time but it's worth a shot.” Y/n moans grabbing my hand I flip her over putting her legs on my shoulders fucking into her “mmm baby I'm gonna fuck my baby into you honey” I bite and suck at her neck “would you like that?”

She moans and throws her head back moaning “hold it princess please just a little longer” I pant kissing her neck quickly I grab my pillow and shove it under her ass before stuffing my entire length inside of her moaning. Releasing my load deep inside of her before pulling my hips out almost all the way fucking my cum inside of her till I couldn't feel it sloshing around anymore. “Do you wanna cuddle baby” she nods her head I turn her to her side putting her under the cover getting up to turn the light off climbing back in behind her “stay still princess I wanna make sure nothing comes out tonight” she smiles holding out her hand. Knowing she was going to be sensitive I grab it kissing her shoulders and back as I slowly slip my limp cock inside of her before it hardened back up “oo-oh shit Daddy I love your big cock” she says sleepily I pull her close to me kissing her lips “well we love you too” she opens her eyes “ew” she laughs making me laugh too “go to bed brat I love you beautiful” “I love you to handsome I'm very excited to have a mini you running around”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie #Smut #smut imagine #smut imagines #hypehousesmut #hypehouse #thehypehouse #Sway #Swayboys #sway gaming #swaygaming #wattpad

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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happy birthday, @irrlicht-ghostfront ❤️ i love you, and i'm judging you for this being your prompt, but i love you some more, so here <33 (warnings: car accident) [NO MCD]

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Blink and a miss — accident — wrecked car, and fleeting on the painful side of barely conscious in a pool of his own blood. There was too much of it anyway. Castiel felt dizzy more than he felt the pain as time, almost tangibly, passed on.

There's no way he was going to live.

(It was supposed to end old — fingers crossed for painless. Featuring inevitably beeping monitors, and time to come up with last words. A goodbye to his family.

Not that he had much of one right now — he isn't sure if he can call Dean's family his, yet; Dean seems to insist on it but then he's always been a pioneer in giving Castiel more than he could ever deserve, starting with his own heart, so Castiel can't tell — but he'd finally started to have intentions to, in the future.

A dog, for Dean.

Children.

Intentions to beg his brother to come back, and not give up until he'd gotten his forgiveness and his only remaining family back. But that — well, it was a different alley than Castiel's thoughts swarmed to right now. And swarm they did, his head throbbing, and life thudding at its gates.

Castiel had also intended to marry Dean, misty-eyed and denying it. Intended to figure out flower arrangements, and guest seating. Intended to kiss him at the end of the aisle, with his hands cupping Dean's face, and Dean's around his waist.

Then, move out from their shared apartment into a house.

Yellow wallpapered bedroom.

Treasure, and keep Dean happy forever.

Fuck.)

His breathing is still ragged, and his head feels too empty, but the heaving has lessened. Probably the blood loss. Less pain, more haze. And the resultant thoughtlessness is perhaps the only thing that sparks the courage in him to do what he does next.

Castiel picks up his phone.

(A struggle, but he's determined.)

If he's dying, and he'll never get to live the life he'd finally started to dream of — never have a life to share with Dean, never get to see Dean again, then he'll take what he can get.

He's allowed this, he tells himself. Allowed to be selfish, one last time.

He's on his deathbed after all.

It's outstandingly painful to bend his neck enough to see he's picked the right number — but the mere idea of accidentally calling an acquaintance at a time like this brings a tensed sliver of life into his muscles, and straining, he looks. Right enough, he's got 'Dean :)' on the screen.

Pressing dial, he lets his head fall back on the seat, wincing again. Maybe that'll relent the floatiness, if his body circulates some goddamn blood into his brain — because he needs this.

He's dying, but he needs this. One last time, he needs Dean.

A thumb swipes the familiarly placed 'on speaker' button — he can't bring the phone to his ear right now. He's going to have to risk Dean hearing the still crackling ruins of the poor engine, strewn across the wreck in smoldering pieces.

He must make quite a sight, he thinks, waiting for the call to go through. Man found in car wreckage, trapped by the door, dead within —

"Cas?"

Dean's voice cuts through Castiel's morbid mental news report, and almost reflexively, he closes his eyes. There's a tangible relief in his head when he does it, and god, Castiel must've been doing worse than he's convinced himself he is.

Dean sounds beautiful as always, and so familiar its like home.

It's the last time he ever gets to have this.

"Hello, Dean." Maybe he manages to not sound weird, or Dean's just not listening for clues. The loud racket behind him, at Bobby (and Dean's) automobile shop, helps as well.

"Hey." There's a smile in his voice now. Fuck. He's smiling. He's smiling, and he's smiling at Cas, and it's the last time Castiel ever gets to hear it.

He loses himself trying to remember the last time he saw Dean smile — earlier this morning, kissing him goodbye before he left — no, down from their balcony, accompanied by a gleeful wave because Dean's shift started a couple hours after Cas's day in the office did — no, when Castiel checked the time, and the Dean on his lockscreen grinned up at him — and he doesn't realize he's fallen silent until Dean's speaking again.

"Babe, you okay?"

There's a tinge of worry. Only a smidge, and it still hurts. The last time Castiel hears Dean can't be laced with anything bad. And it can't be Castiel's fault.

There's a pause. "Cas, what's up?"

Castiel doesn't know what to say so he tries to hold on to the phone tighter, his throat fluttering as a tear rolls down his face.

"Wait," The worry dissipates, apology slipping in. "Am I forgetting something? Did we make plans for lunch, 'cause Bobby and —"

"N-no." Cas struggles, and it's getting harder to not pant. He sounds too breathy anyway. "We don't. Didn't."

He forces a smile into his voice while saying it. As if it doesn't break him that he'll never get to see Dean again. But he needs to smile, doesn't he? One last time. Just for Dean.

"Well, do you want to?" Dean sounds cheerful. Normal.

Perfect.

Castiel doesn't want to die.

"Not, today." He half-heaves, and another tear rolls down his face.

Not today.

(If he'd known, he'd have stared to his heart's fill this morning. Kissed him an hour longer. Held him in his sleep. Oh, if he had had any foresight at all.)

"Dickface-atron keeping ya busy?"

Castiel lets the air stuck in his chest out, and it probably makes up for a small chuckle. He doesn't want to lie, he just won't agree.

"Figures."

"Sorry." Castiel tells him, meaning it entirely.

"Nah, s'good. I love you." Dean adds, clearly smiling wider, because they've only recently added that to their vernacular instead of the pedestal it'd been on for the first eight months of their friendship turning into a relationship. Somehow, it feels grander though — or, that might also be because it's the last time Castiel ever gets to hear Dean say it to him.

Oh, he loves him so much.

(He doesn't want to die.)

"And I have my packed lunch anyway." Dean continues, filling the gap thankfully. Machines blare in his background and he braves on like a man used to not being able to hear his own words due to the racket. Castiel is grateful for it. He hangs onto every word, drinks it in. Makes himself hold on. "Pretty sure you'd kick me to the curb if I let a PBJ go to waste."

"Jelly?" Cas smiles, when he wants to sob. He's certain he sounds fainter too, he feels fainter, and it's a miracle it doesn't show.

The tears well up in his chest, for possibly the rest of time. Dead men don't cry, and Castiel can't.

(Can't be long now, can it?)

"Jelly." Dean confirms. "It's the curse of paying attention when you rant about jam, you know." He snickers. "I used to be normal."

"Yes, I'm very lucky."

Dean chuckles, and Castiel sighs.

He's yearned for Dean to be happy, tried to make him smile, longed to see him laugh, for so, so long it feels like a part of him now. And now, it goes back to Dean, without him.

Somebody else'll make him smile, somebody else will wake him up with a kiss on his temple, and somebody else will love Dean for exactly who he is because it's Dean, and there was never someone who deserved it more — so of course somebody will.

But it will never be him again.)

An untethered broken sound escapes his throat, and Cas winces, faking a cough with it.

That makes the blood gush.

"Oh, also — wait. Just a second." He interrupts himself, and probably covers the speaker with his palm before yelling blurrily to someone near him.

(Or perhaps it's not supposed to be blurry. Castiel wouldn't know. He can hardly make out his own breathing. It's a feat that he can make out the conversation, even if most of it is instinct memory, and all he's doing is holding onto Dean for as long as he can.

Somehow, it feels like he's been doing so forever. But the time left, had never been so little.)

When Dean returns, he sounds apologetically busy.

"Dude, that dick who yelled at Ash, remember? He's back. Garth went this time, 'cause douchebag brought a Sedan."

Castiel swallows again, and vaguely registers that it tastes like metal. Almost like there's blood mixed with saliva.

There's another morbid thought. What, in this wreck, is finally going to kill him?

"I should probably check on him. Garth sorta wears on you."

"Of course." He croaks, and slips — fuck, he slips — but for once, thank god for oversensitive customers and boyfriends with likeable personalities, because Dean's conversing off the phone again, his hand on the speaker.

"I'll call you back, babe." Dean comes back to add in a rush, and Cas sucks in a painful breath, slowly beginning to feel like the only thing keeping him conscious any more is the sensation of air in his lungs, in his mouth, in the back of his throat. "Still have to ask what you even called about, you know. Or maybe if you just missed me." He beams, he obviously beams, and Cas stifles a groan.

"I do." He wheezes. "I —"

"Me too." Dean returns, flirty, and Cas goes to add to it — because he has to, because he's not going to make it, he's not going to be able to hold on until Dean returns, and he has to — but there's a click.

Castiel stares at the screen, devastated.

(Or tries to, anyway.)

"I love you," He cries out, aware that the line's cut, but needing to hear himself say it anyway. Plus, his head feels too numb to keep words inside anymore. It's less a prison of thoughts, and more a canyon of loss.

More tears fall.

His heart is beating faster than it ever has.

"I love —" His voice trembles, tries again, and fails. His throat refuses to comply with the thousands of things there remain to be said, and the words slowly fade, neglected.

In more ways than one, it's like being administered anaesthesia before a surgery — Castiel was operated on for tonsils at age eleven, and he remembers it still — and it finally sinking in, and knocking you out, as the doctor says to count to ten, and you hardly graze six.

His hands clutch the phone tighter, neck rendering him incapable of looking anymore, so he has no idea what his thumbs are trying to type — but it doesn't matter, not really, because this is it. Completely alone, young, and desperately in love with Dean Winchester, Castiel closes his eyes for the very last time.

And everything fades to black.

When they find him, it's been at least four hours.

It's night.

The uniformed official stuck with the responsibility of calling the next of kin, Victor Henriksen, fishes out the wallet as the paramedics carry him into the ambulance and attach him to IV immediately, and steps away to dial his emergency contact with a crinkled brow of sympathy.

And as he waits for the guy, a Dean Winchester, to pick up, he can't help but notice that his number is exactly the same as the one the last text almost sent from the victim's phone had been typed to — clutched in his hand, an unnerving, 'I love'.

And well, he isn't particularly into romcoms, but he hopes the poor guy gets a chance to finish his sentence.

He was in pretty bad condition, Henriksen recalls, and the bloodloss had knocked him out for several hours, but he looked twenty five at most, more importantly healthy, and — he looks at the wallet again, and the picture of two men (one of them, the victim) smiling at the camera with their hands around each other — most importantly, seemed to have reasons to fight for.

(Plus, he'd been the one to call the accident in himself — albeit four hours after it happened, but Henriksen figured he'd been passed out for that long — so he had to want to live, right?)

"Hello. Dean Winchester, who's this?"

"Hello, sir, I'm Officer Henriksen, and I have you listed as Mr Castiel Novak's emergency..."

"You dick."

Castiel coughs, and gives up on squinting against the bright light. It's a LED. Like in hospitals.

"Jesus, Cas. You complete asshole, you —"

Castiel opens his eyes a sliver again. The walls do resemble a hospital. Plain, white tiled. Way too many AC vents. Is that something on his hand?

"So you'll open your goddamn eyes, and not even fucking look at me."

There's IV's on both his hands. And something stiff around his neck. Almost like a collar, but thicker. And when he breathes, his ribs start like they might hurt — but the pain is numbed as it registers. He must be running really high on painkillers; they never really worked for him.

"Fine. You don't gotta look at me." A pause. Then, more shaky. "I was so scared, Cas. So fucking terrified. They said they weren't sure, said it may be too late, and you were dying. And then they tell me the crash happened at three, and I feel like I'm going to have a fucking stroke."

His vision slowly unblurs, feeling returning to his fingers. He tries to fold them, and winces at the strain.

Immediately, there's a hand on his arm.

"Stop moving, dumbass. I'm going to kill you for this, you know. I am, but I need you to be okay first."

The words don't register, but the voice does.

(He sounds beautiful as always, and so familiar it's like home.)

"Hell, I just need you, Cas. Period. I need your ridiculous, stupid ass — and I need you to look at me when I'm begging you to be okay, and I need you to stay, with me, forever, and not call me first when you need a goddamn ambulance, you dumbass —"

"Hello, Dean." Castiel interrupts, a hoarse whisper, and he thinks he hears a sob from the general direction of the love of his life.

(He really can't move his neck — he's got to tell Dean that at some point if he's not understood already. It's the cast.)

"Oh, thank god." Dean cries, the words muffled by either him burying his face in his sleeve, or the lifesaving medications Castiel is alive on account of, but it's okay, right? Dean's here — and he's okay. It's fine.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm still going to kill you for this."

"Well, I'd deserve that." Castiel tries to joke, and almost pulls it off, except for the part where he can't see Dean's reaction until the latter lets out another broken sob, and grabs his hand. Castiel freezes, trying to squeeze back, tears welling up again. "I'm really sorry, Dean." Then, after a beat. "I'm going to make this up to you."

It feels like a strange thing to say, but it's exactly what he means.

"Yeah, you are. Although it can't stop my revenge being not texting you when I have a heart attack in aisle three when I'm eighty and you're buying eggs, but okay."

If Castiel could, he would've shaken his head at that.

(But at least, and this is what really matters — they made it. He's alive. He — he gets this.)

"I love you, you son of a bitch."

Castiel smiles slowly, a tear landing on his pillow. "I love you too."

#destiel #destiel angst #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #cas pov #tw car accident #angst with a happy ending #prompt by the wonderful bamboo thank you again and happy birthday!!#bluefirecas #queenrowena #userpris #tearsofgrace #rambleoncas #oh writing my writing #PLEASE FORGIVE MEDICAL INACCURACIES IF FOUND i am a self professed fool #also please forgive bad writing. i hadn't written in WEEKS when i wrote this #long post

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inkedtae · 4 years ago

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rupture; rapture ⇾ kth. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ ex-boyfriend!taehyung x reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ one shot, angst, smut, f2l(?), e2l(?), ex lovers au, rekindled lovers(?), sculptor au, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ responding to a late night call for help forces you to revisit truths you so skillfully ignored. was it always meant to fall apart to fall back into place?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 13.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ slight upsetting themes, mentions of a new relationship, mentions of infidelity (tae thinks reader used him to each on her date), vague mention of consuming alcohol, switch!Taehyung, mullet!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, clay/paint/art sex(?), hate-love sex(?), makeup sex(?), size kink, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f.), creampie, overstimulation, a lil degradation, a lil face-licking, body worshipping, clit worshipping, a lil clit biting, choking, spanking, motorboating, begging, teasing, swearing, breath play, breast play

anon asked: taehyung19angst asghjkll. U have a prompt list ? So for that. Maybe. If u want to. WOW. Ur awesome. The bestest. Okay. Bye. Love. Me.

#19 ⇝ “You said you knew how to do this.”

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i am aware this is supposed to be a drabble but that never seems to be even for taehyung so here’s a one shot instead. also sorry for writing this so late

☾ banner by ⇾ @editingverse (thank you so so so much dear~ please go give her all your love!! this banner is beautiful!!)

☾ beta’d by ⇾ @kkulmoon (luff you, my soulmate crackhead~)

☾ le playlist

◖send me a prompt from dabble drabble. i will try to get to it as soon as i can. please note that i have the right to refuse any request i find uncomfortable.◗

Navigating to the chipped yellow door is second nature. Four months of distance does not change how easy it is for you to find your way to his place from across town. Your most haunting regret, however, is accepting his call. You sat around your apartment for months, fantasizing about how powerful you’d feel when your phone rings and you see his name flash only to decline the call. You told yourself that is how you will regain your dignity, how you will reclaim your life. He’s been a big part of it since freshman year. Best friends instantly, lovers only a year down the line. Clicking that red button, rejecting his apologies is how you believed you’d be able to move on and fully erase him from your life for good.

But, in the midst of a drink with someone else’s company, he calls and you do not refuse. Your heart flips only to fall and shatter in the pit of your stomach. You press the green button without much thought and bring the phone to your ear. He sounds so unsure, so nervous. A relieved sigh you didn’t realize you were holding escapes you. Eyes watering, you whisper his name.

The shame creeps upon you, condescendingly soothing your ego. Where’s your dignity now? It’s as nonexistent as when you stormed out of this very door and swore never to return. You can hear the fates snickering, watching your pathetic self stand outside of the door. Shaking out a shiver, you gather up the scattered pieces of your courage and knock on the door.

The screech of metal on metal echoes as he unlocks the door. The sound is more comforting than you expected it to be. You can’t remember the amount of times you’ve nagged him to replace the damned thing. It’s old, rusted, and the scratches of the metal make you cringe as though your bones are rotting. It used to make your jaw ache, now it only comforts you. Little things already undress your confidence. What will seeing him again do? What emotions will it beckon?

Misery leaks from your bones and into your bloodstream. The door opens to a vision of grace. In his clay-smeared jumpsuit, the sleeves wrapped around his waist and his bare chest exposed, he stares back at you. Though frozen from the winter air, you feel your face grow hot. Eyes shaking, you don’t know where to look. You’re not even sure if you can meet his gaze. It intensifies with every ticking second his long bangs fall over his lashes. He let it grow out? You’ve begged him to do so for months and once you’re apart he finally gives in? You knew he’d look good, maybe even better than his shorter cut.

The sight only confirms that you’ll never understand him. But, you suppose, you don’t have to. He’s not yours to understand anymore, not even as a friend. That statement should give you a sense of relief, but it only resurfaces the loneliness you’ve been ignoring for months.

Shakily sighing, you plaster a polite smile and greet, “Hey Tae.”

Taehyung parts his lips, but his voice catches. He stares back at you, gaze dancing up and down your frame. He drinks in the way your black dress pants hug your curves, and how you dare to wear a tube-top under your coat in the freezing weather. Gulping, Taehyung flashes you a kind, tight lipped smile and moves aside to welcome you in. His chain looped earring dangles with his movements. It’s such a simple antic, but you cannot fight off the familiar comfort in your chest upon catching it.

Each step back into his apartment fogs your mind with memories of joy and despair alike. Sometimes, those emotions rise in tandem during the same memory, within the same five minute time span. But other times, those memories are saturated with one emotion or the other. You two could never find that balance; not as lovers anyway, not as you thought.

“Make yourself at hom-” he cuts himself off just as the door shuts.

You turn to face him, raising a brow at his slip up. Funny how things circle back no matter how much either of you try to suppress them. This place has always felt like home to you. In fact, revisiting it proves that it still does. He just never let you make it official.

The gloom of four months ago has followed you back in here as well, it would seem. You gulp down the little scratch in your throat and try your best to flash a smile. His brows raise at the gesture. You assume a teeth braced wince paints your features instead.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung corrects himself, “Comfortable. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab you a hot drink to warm you up.” His gaze shifts to the slanted window over his little studio sectioned in the corner of his apartment. “It’s really coming down out there.”

Setting your clutch down on his work table, you nod. He glares at your action before looking back at you. You are fully aware of his distaste for you to dump your things near his work, even if it happens to be your own sculpting supplies. However, he distrubed your date tonight and that little slip up of his recalls more anger than you care to accept right now. Playing into his pet peeves is the very least you can do to show him that you’re not here for anything else but fixing his sculpture.

With a pleasant smile plastered on your lips, you peel your jacket off and set it down on the table as well. Taehyung sarcastically smirks then makes his way to the kitchen. You know you shouldn’t but you let your eyes linger on his frame and follow him around the kitchen while he prepares something for you. His shoulder blades flex as he reaches for a mug from the top shelf - a detail you always found makes you anxious because the cups can easily slip out of his hand from such a height and break.

He must feel your gaze as he glances back at you. “You must be freezing,” he comments.

Looking down at your half top, you shrug. “Not really. That’s what a jacket is for.” You shouldn’t sass. It always gets on his nerves. But, the way he regards you with such tamed hostility and smirks all knowingly, switches something in you. You cannot hold yourself back and he cannot expect to call you over here in the dead of night for help only to glare and sneer at you.

Out of sheer spite, you sit on one of the stools by the table and bend down to untie your thick heeled boots. He absolutely hates this. Sloppy and messy, is what he tells you when you come into the apartment with your shoes on and take them off near his studio. Taehyung stirs the contents of your mug, tossing daggers at you in his stares.

It is only now, in the thick silence, do you hear the soft voice of Sinatra through the vinyl player. Glancing over at the source, you recognize the album cover immediately. It’s the same one you gifted him for his birthday last year. His next one is in a couple of weeks. The realization unexpectedly twinges your heart with guilt. You feel as though you should have already bought his gift, and planned his party. It’s not your responsibility to do that anymore, but you want to and that’s enough for your tongue to coat with disgusted remorse.

“Want me to get you a sweater?” Taehyung asks.

You sit up straight at the close sound of his voice. He stands in front of you with the mug in his hands, glaring down at your boots. Kicking them off by the heel, you stare down at the puddle you’ve made beneath the chair. You should apologize but, instead, you thank him for the drink, take it from his hands, and make your way to the project he’s been working on. He mutters curses under his breath before cleaning up the mess you’ve made… As he should.

You smirk into your cup before taking a sip. Hot chocolate. It’s all he can make, or cares to make. And though it is not your favourite drink, he still prepares it to your specifications. Extra sweet and creamy, with a dash of ginger. Could the habits of your past be muscle memory he cannot shake either?

The answer never arrives as your thoughts halt at the sight of his sculpture. Though returned back onto its pedestal, the torso seems to have endured a terrible fall. He’s so careful about things like this. How could he have let it happen? Was the inner wiring he used too heavy? Did he not use enough slip, otherwise known as wet clay, to keep additions in place?

You bite the inside of your cheeks to school your features. Still, there is no hiding the truth. Especially when it’s right in front of you. Redemption is nonexistent. The sculpture is ruined. Tilting your head, you stare at the unfinished molding and try to figure out how to fix it without adding more clay, since he claimed on the phone that he doesn’t have enough to start over.

“Well?” He asks behind you.

Looking back at him, you take another sip then hand him the cup to hold. Taehyung accepts it, bringing the mug to his lips. The gesture is so simple, so casual that you almost miss it. He did it a lot when you two were together. You did it too. It was never a pet peeve but rather something you were proud of. It proved how close you two were, how well you meshed. Sharing food is common between lovers. Only now, that’s not at all what you are.

You stare at him, mouth gape. He licks his lips before taking another sip. The action repairs your heart only for your reality to wreck it all over again. Catching your eye, he raises his brows in confusion. You flicker your gaze between him and the cup, hoping the silent gesture is enough to return his senses.

Eyes widening, he holds the cup away from his face. “Oh,” he hums under his breath. “I’ll, uh, get you a new one.”

“Don’t bother,” you shrug before he can even turn towards the kitchen. “It’s not that big a deal.”

It is. You’re not his and neither is that hot chocolate. He should know better. He should pay attention more. He can see this all in your eyes as you continue to silently judge him. It’s not that big a deal, you repeat to yourself. The way his large eyes soften, the way he pouts is not that big a deal. You have a job to do, feelings to ignore, and a person to never see again. All you have to do is remold the clay and be on your way.

Finally returning your attention to the sculpture, you approach it while pulling your hair back. It’s rather large since he scaled it to be life-sized, so you assume he has some structural wiring in there to keep it in place when molding. You might have to take it out and remold the entire section. But maybe you can simply push the wiring back in place? However, if your theory about the wiring being too heavy is correct, you might face another smash to the floor. So it seems easier to just pull it all out.

“Is the clay still wet?” You ask before poking the shoulder.

It’s tacky, but that’s not enough to keep it from drying. You scan the room for the spray bottle, finding it behind you. Being a sculptor yourself, you know that the clay has to stay wet enough to be able to continue to add and mold it. Your scan of the room reflects that he is close to finishing the project. He has the muse’s head and arms wrapped in air-tight bags to keep them from drying. They just need to be slipped, slid, and smoothed into place. The details also need to be added, but for the most part, he’s just about done.

“If you’re gonna figure it out yourself, why did you ask me?” He sighs as he sets the mug down near a cup of paint water.

His tone is uncalled for. Nothing seems to have changed. He still has a temper and makes no effort to readjust his attitude. You toss him a glare over your shoulder. After spraying some water over the sculpture, you start to dig your fingers into the molding. Taehyung sucks in a sharp breath behind you. You can’t blame him for such a reaction. It must be very disturbing to watch someone else dig through your hard work.

You take off the clay bit by bit, looking for the metal structure wires he must’ve used to keep it all shaped well. However, as you place another chunk on the table, you begin to realize that the sculpture is not hollow, meaning wires have not been used. He simply ventilated the slab of clay to help air bubbles escape when it comes time to fire it.

Furrowing your brows, you look over at him in confusion. He leans back against his work table with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you. Is this a joke? He doesn’t need your help. He could’ve dug through the smushed clay and remorphed it himself. He’s more experienced than you are; he should’ve known this.

Your anger begins to fester in your chest. He must’ve heard. You still share some mutual friends, so he must’ve heard down the line that you were going out with somebody else tonight. Your outfit of choice is a clear indicator as well. He found out about your date, your first date in the last four months you’ve been broken up, and just needed to ruin it for you. Fuck, you can’t believe you seriously bought his lies again. It’s that stupid voice of his. So deep and soulful, you can never resist it’s lulling temptations.

“What?” Taehyung pushes himself off the table and walks towards you. “You’re pouting like you always do just before you’re about to shout. Is it that bad?”

Is that what he’s doing now? He’s trying to remind you how well he knows you, how well he can read you? If this is just another reminder that no one is like him, you just might prove him right and scream out of frustration. Huffing, you roll your eyes at him. No matter how much your heart flips and flutters at his concern, you will not fall for his stupid games.

He watches in confusion as you clean your hands off with a cloth. “God, (Y/N), what is it? I thought you said you knew how to do this.”

With a dry chuckle, you shake your head and mumble, “You’re still the same liar you’ve always been, Taehyung.”

The perplexed sculptor narrows his eyes. “What did I tell you about mumbling?” He questions in a grumble. “And what the hell are you going on about anyways?”

His tendency to be a walking contradiction will never cease to irk you. He tells you not to mumble then does it himself. Just another pet peeve he’s instilled in you that you can never shake. Then there’s the continuous lies he can never seem to stop telling. For once, why can’t he just be honest?

You toss the dirty cloth at him and make your way to his precious work table only to find that he moved your things to the chair by the door. You rush in that direction instead, and Taehyung follows not too far behind. “I can’t believe you’re still pulling this shit even when it’s over,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “You made it seem like you had no idea what to do. You guilted me into coming back here and for what? To ruin the first night I stopped thinking about you? Well, congratulations,” you drily chuckle as you grab your clutch and turn to face him. “You’ve ruined my night and my date.”

Taehyung pauses mid stride. “Oh,” he rasps, eyes roaming over your body once more. “You had a date tonight?”

Eyes wide, softened, and wet, his next words catch in his throat. All you can make out is a quiet rasp. It’s a convincing act, but you know him well enough to spot his feigned innocence from a mile away. Setting your jaw, you shake your head and sigh, “Not any more.”

You reach for your jacket, but Taehyung is quicker. He snatches it first and holds it behind him. You open your mouth to curse at him when he rushes to say, “Wait, wait.” Hand on your waist, he holds you still.

You freeze under his palm. He’s barely used much force. It’s the simple touch itself that sends you into a trance. The memories of being pinned beneath him, or guided into grinding against his hips rush back to you. Breath hitching, you try to wipe the affection from your features. The searching look in his eyes tells you how bad of a job you’re doing.

“I could fix it myself, but not by myself,” he clarifies. “I just didn’t know how to get you here without making it seem like it’s a complete disaster. Be honest, (Y/N), if I told you I wanted you to sculpt with me you wouldn’t have shown up.”

Be honest. When the fuck have you ever lied to him? The question is tempting to ask, sitting right on the tip of your tongue actually, but you can already tell that you’ve made your annoyance known as concern swims in his eyes. He’s trying to find where he went wrong in his explanation. He’s never done that before. He never notices your discomfort during a fight, but always after the fact. That’s enough to have you consider his explanation, to consider the fact that maybe he has not changed completely, but he’s trying. Perhaps you should start trying too.

Besides, he’s not wrong. If he didn’t make it seem like it was irreversible, you wouldn’t have accepted the invitation over or even thought about ditching your date. Chewing on your lip, you sigh and nod. “Fine, I’ll help you fix it.”

A relieved smile plays on his lips. He removes his hand from your waist, muttering a quiet apology then returns your jacket onto the chair. You set your clutch down on there as well, nowhere near his work, and follow him back to the sculpture. He sprays it down as you take another couple of sips from your hot chocolate.

“When is this due?” You ask as you set the mug down.

Taehyung’s gaze shakes. “At nine,” he reluctantly replies. He sets the spray bottle down. You stare at him in confusion.

The time is both seemingly vague and specific. You furrow your brows, blinking rapidly in hopes that you can reprocess the information for more clarity. When that doesn’t work, you ask, “Tonight?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Thirteen hours? That’s all you two have to remold and detail a life-sized sculpture. This information alone would’ve had you running to help as well. Why didn’t he just tell you this? Why did he have to lie? No, nevermind his lies. You both have thirteen hours to remold the base, attach the head and arms, and add all the details on all four pieces. It may seem like a lot of time but you also have to let the clay sit for a few hours before firing. However, with a sculpture this large, it might need at least three days to dry. How did he expect to finish the rest on his own?

Nothing is adding up. You know Taehyung very well. You’ve shared sculpting classes countless times. His work comes first; always. He sketches and prepares months in advance for a project since the clay can crack or explode during its bake. How could he not have done the same thing here? He should’ve started this at least four months ago… oh.

Taehyung spares you a nervous glance. He can see the realization of his own reality in your eyes. You swallow thickly, knowing you should just pretend that you haven’t noticed anything. Still, you say, “Tae, we both know that’s not enough time. Even if we split the work, it still needs-”

“Don’t worry about that,” he mumbles. His hands smooth over every chunk of clay he reapplies. “Let’s just piece it all together, okay?”

There is a lot you have to force yourself to ignore in his words and tone. He mumbles orders, and expects you to follow. His voice is deep and cold. He gives you his back while he speaks. It’s but another pet peeve of his that makes you want to pull your own hair out. However, most of all, you have to force yourself to ignore how painful it is. Seeing him again, only an arm’s length away, crumbles your anger and hearing his voice reminds you that he still holds every bit of your heart. You have to blink your tears back at the realization. This idea reeked the moment you considered it. But, you can never stop yourself when it comes to him. A year of friendship and two of love; how can you forget all of that in four months?

Taehyung turns to you, his eyes trailing up from your hips to your chest where they linger. Flickering his gaze back up to yours, he offers a tight-lipped smile. You fail to find it in you to return it. He sighs. Hands by his side, voice heavy with sincerity, he says, “I won’t force you to stay, babe- (Y/N).” His slip up has him frozen in place as well. Clearing his throat, he continues, “I need to get this done and you’re the only other person I know who knows how I like it.”

The familiar pet name gives you pause, but the end of that sentence has you hot all over. Your eyes widen at the alternate implication of his words and you can’t help but choke on your next intake of air.

Taehyung’s expression mirrors yours. Face reddening, he’s quick to correct himself. “No, no, I just mean artistically.”

You cannot find the words to say something, anything to make this situation better. Lips parted, all you can voice are quiet croaks of uncertainty. His large eyes, wide with anxiety, watch you carefully. He’s clearly unsure of how else to soothe your discomfort. He goes to say something else but the words fall short. The scene has your skin crawling with shivers. Shaking your head, you walk around him to smooth out the clay he remolded.

“I’ll fix her waist. I think you should get started on the details,” you say, hoping his words can just fizzle away along with the awkward silence that has fallen over the both of you.

Taehyung takes a deep breath. His eyes remain trained on you for a moment, watching as you match the sculpture’s left side to her right. Then, he circles around you and makes his way to his work table.

Though you should be focused on your work, you still have one eye on Taehyung. The jumpsuit sits low on his hips, and his back is bare of any scratches. Your lasting desire to mark up the blank canvas of his back tightens your core. You can feel your black pants dampening at the thought alone. Your hand gently presses into the mold, smoothing out every piece you add.

With Sinatra’s calm voice circling around the room, you and Taehyung fall into a comfortable silence. The rhythm of your actions, the way you move around each other is like muscle memory. You can subconsciously anticipate the other’s next move and react accordingly. He hands you tools before you need to ask and you accept them without a second thought. It’s easy, comfortable, and so familiar that you almost forget he ruined your plans tonight.

Taking a step back, you wipe your wrist over your brow then assess your work. You’ve been trying to sculpt one of the figure’s breasts, adding clay and rounding out the mold. However, it seems like you’ve undershot a bit and made one mound a bit smaller than the other. You sigh and reach for more clay when Taehyung interjects.

“Leave it,” he says from his place beside you.

When did he step back too? He was just detailing one of the sculpture’s hands. “They’re uneven,” you point.

He smirks. “I like them that way.”

His eyes flicker to your chest again before meeting your gaze once more. You shouldn’t look into that gesture too much, but you do. He can’t say something like that, stare at your breasts suggestively and think you wouldn’t notice. Unless, he wants you to notice. You start to wonder how often he’s thought about your breasts and why he feels the need to incorporate them into his project.

While you remain standing in your place, Taehyung returns to his crouched position and continues his work. You can’t bring yourself to move just yet. You stare at the sculpture, at the curve of her stomach and dip of her waist. She’s full-figured and even has stretch marks on her hips, well the side that has not met the floor still has stretch marks. You need to add them on the other side. But, the shape of her body just looks all too familiar.

No, no, it can’t be. He didn’t sculpt your naked body entirely from memory. And why should he? You’re not a couple and he’s made it clear during those four months of silence that he doesn’t want anything to do with you either. No, this is merely just some consequence. You sigh and get back to work. Those thoughts completely boarded shut out of your mind.

“Were you having fun?” He suddenly asks, standing up to start detailing the sculpture’s breasts.

You glance up at him, about to ask what he means when you remember the date. “Oh,” you hum. You’re not sure how much to tell him, or if you should even entertain him with an answer at all. He’s obviously still affected by the break up if he let it get in the way of his project timeline. What was your date’s name anyway? Morgan, Mac, Mark- Mark! Yes, it was Mark something or maybe something Mark. Fuck, you can’t even remember his name. You’re not even sure where you met up for drinks.

Taehyung pauses his sculpting around the figure’s nipple. He chances a quick look at you, raising a brow. “That bad?” He teases with a playful smile.

His light-hearted tone shocks you out of your thoughts. Maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he is over you. Otherwise, why would he ask you about your date so casually, like you two were friends? Or maybe… he’s seeing someone else himself? Sumni did ask for your permission to date him. She was so kind and understanding in her questioning that you couldn’t refuse her. Even if it was a week ago, she would have already talked to him by now and they could’ve already gone on their own date. The sheer thought of Taehyung dating around makes your throat tighten and stomach ache.

“I didn’t stay long enough to make up my mind,” you reply, trying your best not to mumble. Your voice is small though, and tone shot by misery. A wave of hopelessness washes over you at how final everything between you and him feels again. “I don’t think he’s for me though.”

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment or understanding? You don’t know. You can’t pull yourself out of your self pity long enough to decipher it. “Poor guy,” he mutters as he picks up where he left off on the sculpture’s breast.

You carve uneven lines on the figure’s hips, recreating some stretch marks like he had done to the other side. Raising your brows, you question, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs a single shoulder. “I just know what it’s like to lose someone as great as you,” he explains in a near whisper. “The poor guy is gonna lose his mind.”

Tears sting your eyes. He can’t do this. He can’t guilt you for leaving him, not when you both know that it’s just as much his fault as it is yours. Still, even in the midst of pain, the kindness laced in his words tugs the corners of your lips into a small smile. Is that what happened to him? Did this poor guy, this poor little sculptor lose his mind when he lost you?

You toss him a sidelong glance, whispering, “He’ll survive.”

“He can only pray to.”

What is this? What is he trying to say? So he regrets the way that things ended, perhaps even that they ended entirely. Does he think you don’t? Nothing can change how you feel for him. Nothing can hide how badly you wish you can still call him your own. But, he said it himself. He does not want you around, in such close proximity to him anymore. Two years into, what you thought was, a serious relationship and he does not want you living with him.

“I’ll grow tired of us,” he said. Or does he not remember? Did he forget how he promised he’d get you a key, or help you pack? Did he forget how high he got your hopes? Has the fear of getting bored of your company finally withered away?

What does it even matter now? You both said things you haven’t even attempted to take back. Not a single apology has been issued either. Whatever relationship you once had is gone. You can never get it back. Still, you don’t have the stomach to break it to him. You can’t destroy the last little bit of hope he has in you. You can’t find it in you to tell him that no amount of prayer will get you to willingly return to such a relationship.

“He hasn’t been in my company for too long to miss me. Actually, I’m worried he’s already grown tired of it,” you reply. Guilt immediately sheds your pettiness. You know you shouldn’t have said that. Though, he did egg you on. How could he have expected to bring up such a subject and think that you wouldn’t retaliate?

Taehyung tenses and shifts his jaw, giving the impression that he’s chewing gum, and turns to glare at you. From experience alone, you know very well that when Taehyung chews on his imaginary piece of gum, he’s either cocky, pissed or both. This time he has tears glassing over his eyes. Shame cringes your heart. You can’t bring yourself to look at him again. Getting even does not feel as dignifying as you thought it would. You cannot even find a shred of pleasure in seeing him so speechless.

Parting your lips, you try to soothe the sting of your words, only they all fall short. Every time you try to recollect them, they wither away. It’s almost like your mind is warning you from worsening the situation. But the silence is deafening. Sinatra's voice cannot even fill it. His disappointment is too loud; the shattering of his heart like an explosion. And your pain can never shut up. All you can hear is how miserable your soul is and how depressed your heart becomes upon every glance his way. It’s the soft look in his eyes, even when he’s glaring, and the little scrunch of his nose.

With a deep breath, you turn back to the sculpture to keep your hands busy. As you use the pad of your pinkie to smoothen out the stretch mark lines you’ve carved, you say, “We had a drink. That’s as far as we got.”

Taehyung clears his throat. His hands pick up where they left off around the nipple. “Had I known you were out, I wouldn’t have called,” he sighs.

You try not to scoff, particularly because he sounds surprisingly sincere. Sneaking a glance up at him from your squatting position on the floor, you try to search for his usual tell-tale signs. He always blinks one too many times in the same two minute span when he’s lying, that’s if he’ll even meet your gaze. He’s already looking at you when you begin to search his features. He holds your stare and you start to worry that you wrongfully cursed him before when you were convinced that he knew.

“You really didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. “Why would anyone tell me you’re going on a date?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Would you want to hear that I have been on one?”

“Have you?”

Internally cringing, you snap your attention back on the sculpture. The question simply slipped out. He must know that. Of course you’re curious about his love life since you’ve left it, but you don’t need him to know that. And even if he was prying into your date tonight, you still don’t feel comfortable with him knowing that you’ve been wondering about him too, worrying that he’s found the love of his life and forgotten all about you.

Taehyung chuckles. “Do you really want to know?”

Three? Four? Five? How many dates did he have to go on to be able to ask such a question? You hold your breath the moment you feel your next intake waver. Running your tongue between the gaps of your teeth, you stand up and begin detailing the left breast.

“I’m not going to beg you,” you grumble under your breath while sculpting the nipple. Your eyes shift from the one you're working on to the one he perfected, making sure they’re at least even.

“Never had a problem with that before.”

He does not mutter it. He does not whisper it. He chuckles through the statement, cockiness dripping from his tone. Shooting him a glare, you find his jaw moving, the imaginary gum returning. Taehyung smirks at you, eyes dancing over your features like he’s figured you all out.

You raise your brows at him, lips slightly parted by a little smile. “Once again, Taehyung, your memory has miserably failed you,” you start only to widen his grin.

“How so?”

“You’ve been on your knees far more times than I’ve been on mine. You’ve whined louder too.”

He leans in, wrist against his stomach as he lets out a hearty laugh. You feel a rush of your arousal pool at your core just from the simple sound. Face growing hot, you realize how much you’ve missed this, missed him. He always laughed with his whole body, clutching onto you when clutching on his stomach never granted him any stability. Sometimes he’d brace his teeth in a boxy smile and let out his deep chuckles that way. So endearing, so cute, Taehyung would always loop you in his laughing fit as well.

Biting on the sides of your cheeks, you keep yourself from joining in this time. “Why is that so funny?”

Taehyung shakes his head at you as his laughter dies down. With a smile still gracing his features, he replies, “You’re always begging for me. Oh, I remember once you were on the table and you won’t let go of me and until I, and I quote, ‘rammed into you with the force of a thousand waterfalls.’”

Shit. You remember that day all too clearly. Taehyung had been painting and you were somewhere in the kitchen sketching his hands from a distance since he would always tease you about that. Somehow you found out he’d been painting you nude from memory and wanted to help him out. You began stripping for him, inching closer with every piece of clothing you shed. He watched you draw closer to him, and there was something about the way his eyes drank you in that you could not shake. It just made you giddy all over, dripping for his love by the time you were fully naked and within his reach. You were so horny, you said anything to make sure he ruined you.

Avoiding his eye, you reluctantly reply, “I do not recall.”

That statement tips him off immediately. His endearing innocence darkens; you don’t even need to look over to witness it happen. You can feel it. You can feel his demeanour change. Taehyung sets whatever tool he’s using down and towers over you. Stilling in place, you let him graze the bridge of his nose in your hair.

“Do you want me to remind you,” he whispers before pressing his lips to your ear, adding, “my muse?”

Knees all but trembling, you have to remind yourself to keep your eyes open. His warm breath fans over your skin, prickling goosebumps all over. His fingertips brush up the length of your spine, streaking your back with clay and leaving a chain of shiver in their wake. Then there’s that little pet name. Your soul shudders to hear it again while your core waters.

What does he even mean? How far is he willing to go to remind you how badly you wanted him?

Breath shaky, you gingerly meet his gaze. Noses brushing, you try to ignore how good he smells. His scent is always a cross between chalky clay and citrusy cherries. A whine threatens to slip out and you have to swallow thickly just to silence it. “You can try,” you whisper only to feel his hands on your hips.

The grey clay stains the hem of your black pants and a majority of your skin. Taehyung turns you towards him then presses himself against you. His semi-hard rubs against your stomach, making him groan. Seems like he’s falling apart faster than you are. Did he miss this too? Miss the way you smell, the way it feels to be near you again?

You rest your arms on his shoulders and he guides you around and back to his work table. It’s almost like a little dance, with the quiet music still playing in the background. Faces only a breath apart, the temptation to kiss him only grows. But giving in would only prove him right. After so many months, you cannot grant him this victory of being right, especially since he was the one in the wrong when you left.

When the back of your thighs meet the edge of the table, Taehyung shifts his hands down to your ass, gripping tightly and he lifts you up against him and onto the table. You have to choke back a moan just from the rough grip. Your lips brush against each other’s, but neither one of you is willing to bite the bullet first.

“Any of this familiar yet?” Taehyung asks. His voice is almost an octave deeper, saturated in lust and desire.

Smirking, you shake your head.

Taehyung tongues his cheek and cocks a brow. He leans back a bit, hands circling around your waist to rest on your thick thighs. His cocky grin widens as he pushes them further apart. One of his hands shifts up to your crotch, thumb grazing the seams. Face lighting up, Taehyung glances down at your crotch and brushes over it once more.

“No panites?” He questions with a chuckle. “This is looking more and more like that night then I thought it would.”

The confidence he oozes should annoy you, but you find yourself only spreading your legs further for him. Whenever he’s acting this egotistic, you cannot help but respond to it by giving yourself to him. This is a fact he knows well and uses to his advantage any time he’s ever felt like it.

You try to keep your wits about you, saying, “I wouldn’t know.”

Taehyung suddenly leans in. Your breath hitches at the realization that he’s swallowing his pride, that he’s finally going to kiss you. You’ve been dreaming about his lips for months, wondering how you’d be able to find someone else who just fits ever so perfectly against your lips. Eyes fluttering closed, lips in a faint pucker, you’ve inhaled deeply only to have him kiss your chin. He chuckles quietly against your skin, licking his way to your jawline all while leaving you breathless.

“You’re about to,” he growls.

As your body is in the midst of reacting, he somehow digs his nails into the seams of your pants and tears them apart. You gasp, shifting your hands from his shoulder to the edge of the table. You cannot help but stare down at the tear in amazement. Questions on how and why die in your throat when you find that Taehyung’s attention is not even on you anymore. He’s tightening his grip on your thighs and gazes down at your pussy. It pulses under his gaze, much to his own amazement.

Squatting down, he licks his lips at this new angle. “Well, fuck,” he whispers. “How long have you needed me?”

Four months, you wish you had the courage to say. Instead you breathlessly reply, “I’m not sure this is what happened that night.”

“How would you know? I thought you didn’t remember.”

He’s only teasing but his tone is accusatory. You already know it’s because you’ve refused to answer his previous question. And your decision to talk back only adds to his shift in demeanour. Once cheeky, his features darken into something closer to vexation. You’ve pushed the wrong buttons it would seem.

Narrowing his eyes, he orders, “Tell me, my muse. Tell me how long you’ve been needing me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. Pressing your lips together in a fine line, you refuse to make another sound, let alone utter another word. You’ll be damned if you have to admit that you regret walking away, that you cannot even remember the details of your date because all you could think about was everything he would do differently. Having to admit that for the last four months all you’ve been able to do is touch yourself to the thought of him or cry wouldn’t just be motifying but shameful and pathetic.

With a slow nod, Taehyung sighs. You think this is it. He’s ripped your pants apart, looked at every inch of your barest part, and teased you all for nothing. You’d maybe ask to borrow some pants, and he might give you some. But, other than that, nothing would’ve come from this interaction. The flirty comments and knowing looks would disappear with your relationship, this you feel you are sure of.

Then, he plays against your expectations; something you should have expected. Just when you’re about to bring your legs together, Taehyung spreads them apart further and shoves his face between them. He cannot use his hands there since they are covered in clay and, it seems, he also refuses to use his tongue. You cannot hold back the moans that pour out of you with every ministration. Merely smearing his face into your heat, Taehyung teases your clit. The bridge of his nose trails between your folds, lips pressing wet kisses to your tightening hole. From left to right, he shakes his face against your pussy.

You buck your hips against his lips, lacking shame and restraint. “Tae,” you moan, voice breaking.

Taehyung pulls away. Heaving and eyes half-lidded, he smirks up at you. He’s drenched in your arousal, looking like the cat who got the cream. “How long?” He mewls.

“Gimme your tongue,” you whine.

Taehyung mockly pouts up at you. He always looks prettiest on his knees, pretending to be in charge from such a degrading position. “Would you tell me then, babe?”

Your hips inadvertently roll at the pet name. You love it when he babies you like that, when he makes you feel so precious and fragile even though you both know you can rule over anything you want. Hesitantly, you nod. He raises a brow, waiting for verbal confirmation that you’ll tell him once he gives you his tongue.

With a little shrug of a single shoulder, you reply, “Why don’t you give it a try, TaeTae.”

His left eye twitches. You know exactly how that name affects him. His anger and powerful demeanor tremble when you dwell on him like that. He doesn’t need to tell you that he’s suddenly yours to overtake; his large eyes do the trick.

Swiping his tongue over his lips, Taehyung cleans his mouth from you. One little taste and his pupils expand, blown by lust and hunger. You don’t have to waste anymore time convincing him that you’d answer his question if he goes down on you. Your taste seems to be enough of a factor, in itself. He dips his head back in, tongue out this time. The tip pushes through your hole, lapping up your pooling juices. Leaning back on your hands, you gasp a loud moan. He knows his way around so well. One flick up, and your toes are curling. No amount of time apart has disturbed his memory of you. This may have been something you noticed while sculpting but now you can feel it. Tongue in and out, warm and wet, Taehyung explores your pussy like it’s his first time, only he knows everything about it.

You want to tangle your fingers in his hair, to see how the long strands feel in your hand, but they’re covered in clay too. And you know from experience just how hard it is to get clay out of hair. Once it completely dries, it almost seems like the only other option is to cut it all out. So, instead, you just dig your nails into the table, engraving your presence in the wood.

Rolling your hips into his face, you cry out your pleasure. Your legs are shaking, squeezing around his face, but he can’t seem to care any less. In fact, judging by his groans and growls, he seems to love the suffocation. He even pushes your legs further against his cheeks. Freezing in place, Taehyung only allows his tongue to continue to swirl around your pussy. His fingers harshly press into your thighs, sure to leave bruises, but you don’t care. Having him mark you up just like when you were together, is enough to make your eyes roll back.

You’re so, so close. Pussy clenching, his tongue still pushes its way in. He’s determined to see you through, to have you unfold right in his hands so hard that he still won’t breathe. And though you start to worry a bit, you cannot really pay attention to anything else besides the pleasure.

“Oh, Tae,” you cry. Voice breathy and high-pitched, it’s only a matter of time before-

It hits you hard, fast, and completely off guard. You have felt it growing and knotting in the pit of your stomach, but have no idea it would rush at you this harshly that you completely fall back on the table. Body convulsing, you scream and cream all over his tongue, mouth, and chin. His entire face will smell like you for days.

Taehyung forces your tightening legs apart, gasping for air. Gazing up at you, he sticks his tongue out and against your clit. He’s determined to help you ride out your high and nods his head up and down. You watch him through blurry vision, shamelessly rocking your hips up to meet him halfway. Or, at least you try to. Soon, you become all too sensitive to even hold his gaze, let alone grind against his tongue.

You fight against his hold on your legs, whining loudly. “Okay, okay,” you gasp as you try to seat yourself up.

He doesn’t care. That once yielding look in his eyes flashes into a demanding one. Seeing you so helpless under him shocks him with power once again. “One more time,” he pants against your heat.

“TaeTae,” you mewl, attempting to manipulate your way out of this overstimulated feast.

However, the use of the name this time, only spurs him on. He knows what you’re trying to do and doesn’t at all find it amusing. This time when he repeats his words, he growls, “One more time!”

Lips suctioning around your clit, he harshly sucks. Slurping and swallowing everything you have to offer, Taehyung holds your gaze. You’re a trembling mess. Tears falling freely down your face, you curse him three times over and buck your hips against his mouth. He finds the entire sight so humorous, he can’t help but smirk.

You’re still his little toy, a play thing for him to fool around with and test out some kinks on. The realization should make you curse him again and again, but you can only play into it. Pouting and mewling, you’ve fully sold yourself out just so Taehyung is well fed with your juices.

This is the peak of his games, you think. This is as far as he will go and you expect that you’ll cum in another minute or so. But then his teeth graze your clit once, twice, three times. You come undone within seconds. Arching your back, you let out the neediest cry you’ve ever heard and pathetically cum against his chin. The shudders and shivers of your body are beyond your control, as is your broken voice and any lasting grip you thought you had on reality.

As if biting and sucking your clit isn’t mindbreaking enough, Taehyung dips his tongue back in you to sneak another taste. “Taehyung, please,” you beg. “Please!”

He finally lets up, removing his face from your sopping heat and releasing his hold on your legs. You instantly bring them together and hug them into your chest. Heaving and shedding your last few tears, you try to recompose yourself and the silent atmosphere you once shared while sculpting.

“Strange,” he starts, returning to his feet. He takes his hands in yours, slowly unwrapping the hug you’ve cocooned yourself in. “It sounds a lot like that night. But, that’s not at all what I was doing then to make you this needy.”

To anyone else, you would've looked fucked out and completely ruined. But Taehyung knows that’s not at all the case. He has tested your stamina enough to know that you can most likely go for another round or two. Pulling your legs apart, he stands between them then helps sit you back up.

Faces inches away, you exchange breaths. “How long have you been this needy, my muse?” He asks again.

He really does smell like you. His cheeks, nose, chin, and lips are smeared with your cum. It doesn’t even look like he was feasting. It almost looks like he just wanted to cover his face with your juices. Gulping, you consider his question. You did insinuate that you’d answer the question if he gave you his tongue. And, holy fuck, did he give it to you. However, an insinuation is not a promise. He made that clear during your last argument.

“I don’t remember promising anything,” you whisper in a light pant.

The pain in his eyes cannot be neither mistaken nor missed. Echoing his words all these months later, surely recalls suppressed emotions of misery and betrayal for the both of you. He sneers a smirk, glaring at your lips. “Your memory has failed you,” he hisses. Gripping onto your hips, marking you there with bruises as well, he adds, “But, I won’t.”

“Not again, anyway.”

You sound colder than he does which causes him to hesitate for a moment. His hands fall by his sides as he searches your face for some sort of confirmation to continue. He almost seems like he’s not sure if he really wants to pick up where he left off too, seeing that you’re still upset with him. The guilt of seeing him so fragile and wounded eats away the majority of your anger. But, if he thinks he’s the only one struggling to make sense of this break up, he’s wrong.

Right now, the only way you can think of showing that to him is by first displaying your eagerness to continue in this sexual stroll down memory lane. You lean forward, brushing the tip of your nose against his, and reach down to his crotch. The dent in his jumpsuit throbs in your hand. His hard cock all but pulses under your palm as you rub at it. His breath hitches. You then untie the sleeves of his jumpsuit and watch carefully as his cock comes back into view. Fuck, you’ve forgotten just how pretty it is when it’s all pink tipped and desperate to be pumped. He shifts a bit, you assume to step out of the jumpsuit, and resettles his hands back on your waist.

Not another moment of uncertainty stands between you anymore. Swallowing his pride, Taehyung kisses you first. Lips on lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue has you moaning already. He seems to take this as a sign to let himself go as well. He pulls you closer to the edge of the table and rolls his hips into yours. The length of his dick rubs between your folds, but he doesn’t enter. Not yet. He simply teases the idea of entering, of ruining you.

But, you’re too overstimulated to enjoy it in its entirety. Your legs resume their little shudders at the tiniest bit of friction when his cock just happens to brush against your clit. Taehyung, upon noticing this, makes sure to touch it with every new grind against you. He smirks when you whimper into his mouth and chuckles a bit when you break the kiss to whine his name.

“What is it, baby,” he coos. He grounds his hips harder into yours, erupting moans from the both of you. “Ah, shit, I could just cum like this,” he hisses as his mouth hovers over yours.

A little smirk tugs on your lips at his words. Yes, you may be helplessly falling apart with every passing second. However, watching him come undone from the impression of your pussy against his cock, is a rather prideful moment. You tilt your head and begin peppering his chin and cheeks with open mouthed kisses, staining his face with your saliva now as well as your cum.

“Then, just cum, TaeTae,” you whine.

Perhaps if you didn’t sound so desperate, he probably would’ve switched back into his own submissive state. But, it’s the squeal in your voice and mischief in your tone that only drives him further down his power trip. He pulls away a bit, holding your horny gaze with an unimpressed one of his own. He realigns his hips as his jaw shifts. He’s pretending to chew gum again. Holy shit, he’s going to fuck you senseless.

He does not push into you though. Instead, he pulls you onto him by the deadly grip he has on your hips. You stare up at him as a loud cry escapes you with every inch that stretches your walls. Taehyung looks back with very little remorse in his eyes. The sight of you so small in his arms, whipped for his cock, makes his tip twitch a bit. But he is not immune to the action of entering you, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I can’t believe I forgot how tight you were,” he whispers, voice breaking.

And you thought you could never forget how big he is, but here you are. Eyes rolling back, you relish in his size like it the first time. “Big,” you mewl as he bottoms out. “Tae, you’re so big.” You sound just as broken as he does.

He cannot even find it in him to be cocky about it. He hears the realization in your voice. He knows you’ve forgotten too. A flash of pain twinkles in his eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and whisper. “Remind me, Taehyung.” His brows quirk up and you add, “Remind me how good you make me feel. And I’ll remind you the same.”

Taehyung presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. Then, his hips snap in action. Holding you close, he starts hard and fast. He’s naked and growling into your ear with every thrust. You’re clothed and whining with every rumble of his chest and jerk of his hips. You didn’t even have to beg to bring out such a feral side of him. Could it be that he’s looking for the same thing you are? A lost lover?

Clay smeared fingers pressing into his skin, you push away that thought and scratch at his back. That once blank canvas of muscle and skin will now be lined with your lov- lust. This is just lust. You have to remind yourself of this fact every time he pushes into you.

He quietly hisses with each streak until he pauses his thrusts. You pout, leaning back a bit to ask if anything is wrong. But before you can even part your lips, Taehyung is readjusting his grip from your hips to your tube top.

“You’re a fucking slut to dress like this for him,” he growls. Then, in one swift motion, he pulls it down. You gasp as your breasts spill out, not out of exposure, but simply shock. He grips onto the rolled down top and smirks. “They’re a little uneven,” he points out. “But, I like that about them. Does he too? Does he get to see you like this, slut?”

You’ve got it wrong. It’s not your use of his nickname that has sent him spiralling into a pit of dominance, but rather that you went out to see another man. Is that why he ripped your pants apart? He’s destroying the outfit he thinks you wore for somebody else. Not only that, but his words only confirm that he is indeed sculpting you. All from memory, Taehyung has been molding your naked body down to the precise imperfection of your slightly uneven breasts.

And while you’re still trying to make sense of it all, he slaps one of them causing you to moan and throw your head back. Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin and drags your head back down to meet his gaze. “Answer me,” he seethes. “How much of you does he have?”

“None!” You shout. Your breathing is uneven, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat to continue, “I don’t even remember his name; he’s irrelevant.”

Taehyung circles his hips around yours, clearly pleased with your reply. But he does not pick up where he left off. “You haven’t been able to remember a lot tonight. Is that all irrelevant to you too?”

The shake of your head is reactive. You barely even had to think about it. This act of pretending that you don’t feel anything for him anymore has clearly fallen. “That’s not it, Taehyung,” you whine, hooking a leg around his waist. He wipes the tears streaming down your face as you continue, “I just didn’t want to remember us.”

Licking his lips, Taehyung slowly pulls out and eases himself back in. You tremble, watery eyes twitching in bliss. “Tell me how long you’ve been needy, baby,” he whispers.

“Have I not said enough already?”

You clutch onto his biceps and buck your hips up to meet his. He gasps, unable to hide his smile. You can tell he wants to finish this conversation but, with the way your walls are tightening around him, he doesn’t seem like he’s able to. One look in his eyes and you can tell he’s consumed by the pleasure all too much to reply.

Taehyung lets one hand fall to his side when he starts to pick up his pace. You shift one of your hands to his shoulders while the other holds onto the table’s edge. He holds you by the grip he has on your rolled tube top and smacks his hips against yours. It’s almost as if he’s riding a horse with the way he’s fucking you. And if you don’t whine loud enough, he’d slap each of your tits and force those screams out of you, growling, “You can do better than that.”

Removing your hands off him and back to the table, you accidentally rest your hand on one of his palettes. You gasp, looking over to find your hand smeared with blue and yellow hues. Taehyung laughs and rams into you faster. “You’re just making a mess wherever you go, hmm?” he teases.

You pout. He’s having too much fun making a mockery of you. Granted, you’re loving the attention, the way he’s fucking you into submission and realization, but you cannot let all this go to his head too much. As he smacks your breasts once more, nipples a little raw as they sting, you wipe your hand on him, down from his cheek to his collarbone.

He gasps, but his hips never stutter. Before you can even register his actions, Taehyung readjusts his grip from your top to your breasts and shoves his face between them. He transfers the swirl of dark blue and gold all over you as he fucks you as senseless as you predicted.

And as he playfully punishes you, blowing raspberries into your chest, you find yourself missing this, missing him. How could you have forgotten he likes to get playful, that he can switch between his two demeanours so seamlessly? He giggles when he pushes your breast into his face and further stains them with paint.

“The only one making a mess is you,” you rush to whine as your impending orgasm nears.

Dipping your hand in more paint, you rub the colours on his back and shoulders. You’re going to colour him yours if this is the last thing the two of you do together. Paint on his skin, in his hair, all over him, you’re going to make your impression here last through all the moans and whines and lewd slouches of your sensitive wetness around him.

Taehyung kisses his way up to your lips. He slips his tongue in once he reaches them and rolls his hips into you particularly harder than before. He can feel that he’s got you trailing the edge of your high. Thrust upwards, Taehyung reaches your most sensitive place. Every ram into it makes you shudder, toes curling and moans pouring into his mouth. One of his hands shifts up to your breast, massaging the smeared paint in, while the other holds your hips in place.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whines against your lips. “Come back to me.”

He can’t do this. He can’t beg you to come back with his dick shoved so deep in you like this. You’re so fucking close and he knows this. He can feel every inch of you tighten around him and desperate to be released. It’s cruel of him to manipulate you like this, to kiss you like he’s lost in the moment when he’s really just lost in you.

Kissing his way to your ear, Taehyung feels your pussy quiver. He smirks, thrusting hard enough to move the table back, and growls in your ear, “Come back to me, my muse. Cum.”

You fall back onto the table, body a total shaking shock as your orgasm washes over every inch of you. With one hand trembling over your lips, your other grabs onto one of your tits in an effort to brace yourself from the rush of ecstasy that overcomes you. The moans and whines that leave you are no exception to your convulsing state. Their breathless, broken, and blaring as you practically scream out in bliss.

Taehyung enjoys the show, watching you forget how to breathe from his place between your legs. He’s still going fast and hard, groaning when he feels you coat his cock in your cum. Mesmerized by the sight of your unheld breast bouncing with each of his thrust, he slaps it. You squeal at the sting.

And as you try to look at him, still riding out your orgasm, Taehyung’s cock twitches only to paint your inner walls with his missed affections. He falls forward, over you, burying his face between your tits again. You push them into his face and shake them against his cheeks, hearing him growl over your heart.

At some point, he stops thrusting and opts to circling his hips into yours. It’s all the same to you. Your legs continue to shake and your heart still races. Drenched in sweat, paint, and clay, you two lie there for a second longer. Even while growing limp, Taehyung feels so full in you.

He peels himself off you. His face, glistening in paint, looks like Van Gogh’s starry night, his eyes being the sparkling stars. He smirks down at you before trailing his gaze lower. That smile falls with every part of you he realizes he has ruined. Your chest is exposed and covered in colours, shirt non existent, pants clay stained and torn straight down the middle, and pussy a sopping mess of your mixed cum when he pulls out.

“I did make a mess,” he pants.

One step back, then two, then three. He distances himself from you as if ashamed of his work. You slowly sit up and cross your legs. Already, they feel strained and sore. But, they’re the least of your worries. It's the way that Taehyung winces at the sight of you, that has your heart somersaulting into your stomach. You swallow thickly between heaving pants and watch him carefully. He’s completely bare and looks even more broke than you do. His gaze looks vague and face sickly. Shaking his head, Taehyung runs a hand through his hair. He looks so annoyed with himself, he cannot even find it in him to laugh at the fact that he only got more paint in his hair.

Crossing your arms over your chest to cover yourself up a bit, you say, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He blinks repeatedly, snapping his attention back up at you. “Why aren’t you disturbed by this?” He questions, voice all but breaking.

Your eyes scan up and down his frame before your brows knit together in confusion. Is he referring to his naked body, or that the two of you just came to the thought of dating each other again? Still, why is either of those things worth being disturbed over? A naked Taehyung post sex has never been a bad sight and, though things did end horribly, the thought of being with him again doesn’t seem so bad now. Did he not mean it when he asked you to come back? Was it just something to get off to? Are you just something to get off to?

“What?” You whisper now that your anxious train of thought has robbed your voice.

“Aren’t you dating?” He clarifies. “That poor guy. I can’t believe I just let us do that.”

You’ve never seen him this distressed. He walks back to you, just to grab his jumpsuit and briefs. He can’t even bear to look at you as you stare back at him in complete confusion. What does he think happened here? That you cheated? Clenching your jaw, you can't believe that he could think that low of you. Then again, you never did blatantly say that it was your first date since the break up. In fact, now that you think about it, you did make it seem like you were in a relationship with someone else.

Taehyung hastily gets dressed as you try to hop off the table without falling on your face from how weak your legs are after such a fucking. “Tae,” you start only to have him walk away. With a sigh, you call after him. He ignores you.

What the hell are you supposed to do now? You sure as hell can’t follow him with your legs so sore and he doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. And even if you could walk, your clothes are ruined and it would take a while for an uber to get here with all the snow coming down out there. The distant spray of the shower directs your attention to the hallway Taehyung escaped down to get away from you. Great, he’s showering and left you here to figure this all out yourself.

Taking a seat on the floor, you decide to give your legs a moment to rest before ordering yourself an uber and hoping that this night ends soon. You should’ve listened to your gut and rejected his call. You shouldn’t have agreed to this, or come here, or let him remind you just how much you miss and love him. All you ever wanted was- is him. If it haven’t been for this whole stupid issue about moving in, you’d still have him.

But, no. You had to force him into a step he wasn’t ready for. You lost him then and you came back to watch yourself lose him again. Is that it? Is that why you didn’t even explain yourself to the poor guy that was sitting across from you at Rollos. Yes, Rollos; that’s where you went for drinks. Wow, your memory really hasn’t served you well tonight. You hope you forget this tomorrow. You hope you'll be able to forget how pathetic you feel, how hurt he sounds, and how you lost him all over again.

“Get up,” Taehyung orders. His voice is rough, like he had been sobbing.

Looking over to him, you find that could’ve actually been the case. His face is tear streaked now as well as paint smeared. He stands a good few feet away from you, glaring down at your woefully ruined frame. “Taehyung, I’m not-”

He doesn’t seem to want to hear any of it. “Get up,” he repeats. “Go shower. I have some clothes for you to wear then I’m taking you home.”

“Tae, just liste-”

“Delete my number. We never talk about this again. And if you’re at all like the person I loved, you’d tell him the truth.”

Is he seriously judging you right now? You’ve barely even had a chance to explain yourself. He really doesn’t want to listen to anything you have to say, cutting you off like you’re less than him. You cannot help but scoff at him and his words.

Taehyung sighs. “Just please get up, (Y/N).”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

His superiority falls. The life returns to his face as he approaches you but you recoil into yourself the moment he steps forward. Pausing, he tilts his head at you. “What is it?”

What is it? This man is going to be the death of you. “You just shamed me for something that wasn’t true, Taehyung!” You shout.

“I thought you were cheating with me!”

You use the table to help yourself up and dryly chuckle. “Ha, yeah because lying is such a normal thing to do, right? I’m as twisted as you, Taehyung.”

“I lied because I knew saying no would hurt you. Why can’t you see that I was just looking out for you?”

That one sentence makes you freeze in place. Is he really that fucking dense? He can’t seriously believe that looking out for someone you love involves lying. Slowly turning to face him, you don't even make an effort to hide your tears anymore. “You were looking out for yourself and you know it!”

“I just didn’t-”

“Want to grow tired of me.” You finish for him in a mocking tone.

Taehyung huffs, shaking his head. “That’s not what I was going to say. Would you just let me finish?”

You’re done with this stupid conversation. All you want to do is go home and get as far away as possible from him and the way he smells and the fact that even though you hate him so much right now, you want him to come and hug you and tell you everything is going to be okay. But, he’s just so annoying. And you can’t bear to look at him anymore with that cold glare consistently being directed towards you. You’ll wait outside for the uber. Hell, you’ll just walk back to your apartment. Anything to get out of here and away from him.

In an attempt to follow through, you try to make your way towards the door, but your legs almost instantly give out.

“Jesus, babe,” Taehyung hisses, rushing to your side.

It’s not even just the fact that you’re sore but your ripped pants are starting to rub up against your cum leaking pussy. You whine a bit and try to shake him off in order to jump back onto the table. But, you’re thankful he stays by your side because you definitely cannot get up there alone with your lacking upper body strength.

His hands linger on your thighs, softening eyes locked on yours. A hint of a smirk plays on his lips before he says, “I remember doing this to you often.”

Yes, leaving you limping around the apartment was his favourite pastimes. He liked to watch you struggle to walk after every intimate moment. In fact, he always felt like he didn’t do his job right if you’re not limping. He’d go ten times rougher the next time around and then cuddle you to his chest, cooing reassurances in your ear. Was it bad that you wanted that all the time? That you wanted to sleep and wake up in the same bed he does everyday?

Slow tears roll down your face as you take his hand art stained in yours. “It was my first date since our break up,” you confess. “Sumni asked for your number… and for permission to go out with you. I just felt a little hurt that you were moving on.”

“She called.”

Your heart has shattered too many times tonight to even react to his words, but you can feel your soul shudder. She called. And did he answer? Did he have a drink with her too? You want to ask but your pride swallows your questions whole. All you can bring yourself to say is, “She’s a nice girl.”

He nods. Squeezing your hand, Taehyung wraps his arm loosely around your waist and stands in front of you. “I told her I wasn’t really ready to see anyone else yet,” he tells you, pressing himself against you.

The gesture is not at all sexual and you do not interpret it as such. Rather, it is tender and comforting. He releases his hold on your hand to wipe your tears, letting his own fall. Licking his lips, he whispers, “What’s his name?”

You shrug.

“Come on,” he half-heartedly nudges your legs. “Tell me.”

Does he think you’re trying to spare his feelings? Meeting his gaze, you can’t help but smile. He looks so cute, so precious in front of you. Playing with his hand, your fingers looping around his, you reply, “I don’t remember. I only spoke to him for half an hour or something.”

He cannot hide his smile, but avoids your gaze. Even still, you can see the relief within them. He seems to be pleased that you’re just as miserable as he is, pining after someone you cannot have any more.

“Is that why you came over?”

You shake your head before you can even think the action through. And the words leave your lips just the same, “I just missed you.”

“I really missed you too,” he croaks, rushing to say the words like he can’t believe them himself. “God, I’ve just wanted you back for so long.”

He’s all but sobbing in front of you. Parting your lips, you’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have you, not yet anyways. The fact is that he still lied, and has continued to lie to manipulate you. This cannot be forgiven so easily. You love and miss him dearly, but surely you cannot just take him back without discussing the cause of your break up first.

But then, Taehyung burrows his face into the crook of your neck and lets himself fall apart. Hugging you close, he cries into your skin. You cannot hold back the sob that tears through your throat just from the mere sound of his choked breaths and wet tears against you.

“I’m so sorry,” he cries as you cradle his head. “I’m sorry.”

The broken tone of his voice is enough to make you whimper into his hair. He sounds so fragile. This break up, you realize, has torn him inside out too. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, you try to console both of your fears. But every sob trembles your courage and every drop of his tears makes you recoil in guilt and shame. How could you have done this to him, to your relationship?

He shudders a breath as he pulls away. Red in the face, wet streaks staining his painted cheeks, he cups his hands under your jaw and says, “Look, you can move in right now, okay? Alright? I’ll get your things tomorrow. I’ll give you Jungkook’s key. He only comes here to steal our food anyways.” Just stay, please (Y/N).”

His voice is shaky and tone all but heartbreaking as he chuckles at his own little joke. The desperation is real and hard to deny. You cannot even open your mouth to even voice your reservations about dating again. Clutching onto his jumpsuit, you try to revert your gaze to your lap in hopes to find your courage and tell him that you need to talk first. Only, Taehyung dips his head low to catch your eyes again. He’s determined to have you stay. And your silence only provokes more tears.

“I promise I’ll never tell another lie,” he sobs. “I promise I’ll never let my worries get in between us again. Please, baby, just please stay. Say that you’ll stay.”

You cannot watch this for another moment longer. There’s lots you still have left to discuss, like why he’s so worried about growing tired of you, and why he felt the need to lie in the first place. But his promise to never do it again is enough for now. And you just can’t sit here watching him cry any longer. You pull him towards you, pepper his cheeks with gentle kisses then cradle his head.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tae,” you mutter into his hair. “Mostly because I can’t.”

Your attempt at a joke causes him to choke out a chuckle. He showers the crook of your neck with wet kisses, muttering into your skin, “I love you.”

Rapturing in a relieved frenzy, your nerves dance within your bloodstream and repair your ruptured heart. You let out a deep breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “I love you too,” you cry.

The last four months haven’t granted you a shred of peace. You’ve lived and re-lived that argument over and over again, praying you can just go back and fix it all there and then. But, maybe… maybe it all needed to fall apart to fall back into place. Maybe it needed to rupture to rapture.

tags: @miinoongi, @jenotation, @allannahmalik, @taeshuworld

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #btsguild #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #winterbearnet #vantenet #btswritersclub #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #btsgoldnet #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #kim taehyung angst #kim taehyung smut #bts smut

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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How to Never Stop Being Sad

A/N: Yes, this is another song inspired fic I am OBSESSED with them. If you’ve listened to how to never stop being sad by dandelion hands, are you okay? If you haven’t and you do because of this I would like to formally apologize. Okay so I started writing this and I just want to say that every single one of you is so beautiful because like wait hold on I’m getting flustered... Anyways, everything about you is beautiful that I just got so overly flustered and hot THINKING about it. Okay that’s all carry on.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer shows Reader how to stop being sad in tiny ways.

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: mentions of depression, loneliness, body image issues and self deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 21K

Masterlist

____

Time has proven that fooling yourself into believing the lies is the most effective way to deal with the things you have no control over.

She sat there, for too long if she was being honest, staring at a reflection that couldn’t have been real. The mirror in her bedroom had to have been replaced with one from a carnival, distorting the image as a sick, twisted joke.

Your thighs are huge.

Your hips are too wide.

Your stretch marks are disgusting.

She had enough, finally letting the tears that welled in her eyes escape, falling down like raindrops on a window as she sat back and rested her head between her knees. She couldn’t bare to see anymore, all the early morning jogs, gym memberships and diet remedies were for nothing.

Her body had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t control it.

But then her front door clicked as Spencer all too excitedly used his brand new key, expecting to see his girlfriend sitting on the couch he fell in love with her on. The first day she invited him upstairs, the door was opened and his eyes immediately fell to the obscure, bright purple sofa that oddly enough went well with the rest of her simplistic, white furniture.

“I saw it once at a thrift shop and it was too perfect not to buy it,” she said, noticing the way he was eyeing the couch. He let a smile break across his face, knowing in that moment that he may just be in love.

But she wasn’t there, and when the door clicked shut, she was also made aware of the presence in her home.

Quickly, she pulled herself off the floor, wiped the tears that accumulated under her eyes and down her cheeks, and avoided looking at the reflection in front of her.

“Y/N? Are you here?” Spencer called from the living room. She knew he was slowly taking steps that he attempted to make as quiet as possible, just in case, towards the hallway that led to her.

“Uh, y-yeah I’m here. Just a second!” She called back, rushed and stuttering as she looked for the biggest sweatshirt and sweatpants she could find. Deciding on gray sweats and a Caltech sweatshirt, both belonging to Spencer, she took one last look at her face hoping he won’t catch what her previous activities consisted of.

When she walked out of the bedroom, Spencer saw it. He always did.

But what she noticed was the fact Spencer was dressed up, even after stopping home from the office before coming to her. They had a date, and it wasn’t that she forgot, oh no, she remembered clearly, but in her attempts to find something to wear that would be enough, her spiral had begun.

“Come here,” was all Spencer said, opening his arms for her to waltz into, and she did, slowly dragging her fuzzy sock clad feet over to the man in front of her that held both the warmth and answers that she needed.

“I’m sorry, I just... I can’t-”

“I know, it’s okay.” His reassurance calmed the nerves she had for the past hour over if Spencer would be mad that she flaked on a date. “Usually I’m the one to cancel dates. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He wasn’t prying for answers, she knew that, and she also knew that if she said no, Spencer wouldn’t push it. That was the thing about Spencer; he didn’t need to know what was wrong, but he always knew how to fix it.

“Not yet,” she mumbled, her words muffled by his chest that she pressed her face into the moment she had the chance.

Spencer cradled the back of her head, forcing it off his chest softly to gaze down at her with a face full of worry, curiosity, but most importantly, adoration.

“Come on, sweetheart. I wanna try something,” Spencer said before grabbing her hand and leading her to the purple velour couch. He sat down first, pointing away from him with his free hand letting her know he wants her facing away.

The second she sat down, Spencer let go of her hand and replaced both on top of her shoulders.

“Spence, what are you doing?” She giggled slightly when his fingers brushed near her neck. Spencer will never quite get used to how ticklish she was.

“I’m giving you a massage, I could feel how tense your muscles were from across the room.” She knew it was a lie. He also knew it was a lie, but neither had the want to say anything about it.

His hands caressed her shoulders before moving down to her back, his fingers resting on the sides of her body as his thumbs did all the work. She let her head lean back as a sigh left her body with the tension.

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer whispered just loud enough for them to hear, and even though they were the only two in the room, the admission felt natural as a whisper like if he said it any louder, it may have broken the bubble they were in.

Slowly, she looked down to the left of her, watching Spencer out of her peripherals. The second her eyes started to glisten, he abandoned the massage altogether to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her directly against him.

“I’m sorry I don't know why I’m crying,” she said between gasps for air and soft sobs. Spencer simply shushed her, and held her close to his chest, brushing his fingers through her hair.

He tried to turn her body to face him, but in her stubbornness, she stayed with her back to his chest.

“Hey, look at me, sweetheart.” Spencer put a finger under her chin, delicately lifted her head to lock teary eyes with his loving ones. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and I promise to remind you that every day for the rest of my life.”

And Spencer Reid kept his promise.

Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you, overanalyze every single word you hear. "Was this a sign that things were going wrong?" No no, you were the one that cared too hard, not them.

The couple had impulsively decided to spend their two free days together in an impromptu vacation to New York City. Spencer never actually cared for the city, but when he watched the way she lit up as she suggested they go “be one with the New Yorkers,” how could he say no?

That’s how he found himself in the passenger seat of her broken down Volkswagen beetle listening to her sing along to the words of a song he’s never heard. Most of the songs she’s played so far he hasn’t known, but after watching her get lost in music she has no shame in showing she loves, he knows every line.

And when the song changes, his ears perk up because he knows this song. Spencer is aware that it doesn’t quite conventionally fit in his usual music library, but nonetheless, it’s adored just the same as Beethoven or Bach.

But then the channel is changed, the force used to push the button on the radio much stronger than needed. It was quiet for a second before Spencer spoke up.

“Are you okay?” It was simply put enough that if something was wrong, which evidently there was, she wouldn’t feel interrogated about it, only comforted.

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s cool,” she said in what could be the most unbelievable faux cheerfulness Spencer had ever heard. “That song just brings up some bad memories.”

“Oh,” Spencer whispered. When it didn’t look like she was going to elaborate, he continued. “Do you want better ones?”

“What?” She took her eyes off the road to look at Spencer like what he just asked was absolutely preposterous. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he changed the station on the radio back. Time was on Spencer’s side this morning, because the peak of the song was about to play once he settled back.

She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a Line Without a Hook

BABY, I AM A WRECK WHEN I’M WITHOUT YOU

Spencer loudly sang along to the words, throwing his head back as he yelled and using his hands as he sang. She looked over at him with wide eyes that slowly shrunk as her smile grew.

The ice the song caused to freeze over her mind and heart slowly melted from the warmth Spencer’s love spread. Together, they sang the rest of the song, and when it was over, she still had a smile on her face.

“You’re a terrible singer, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Stay up every single night staring at your phone either attempting to gather up the courage to turn these demons, these constant reminders of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream, or praying just for one second you could feel the warmth of equally returned love.

There are many reasons one doesn’t answer their phone.

She could be on the phone with another person, but no that’s not possible. Her hatred for speaking over the phone ensued she never answered anyone but him.

Maybe her battery died, but that would mean she didn’t charge it overnight. Spencer watched her plug it in around midnight, even after he’s told her the dangers of doing that.

His mind unfortunately went to a darker place, because what he didn’t know was that hers did too.

She had watched her phone on her dresser vibrate insistently all three times until it fell to the floor with a deafening crash. She hoped that it didn’t crack, but that hope wasn’t strong enough to get her out of bed to check.

Spencer in his panic never expected to walk into her apartment to find everything in its place. Her car keys sat where they always did, in the bowl by the front door. The boots she usually found an excuse to wear with everything were sitting where she struggled every day to get them off by the couch, and there wasn’t a single sign of a struggle.

And then he walked into her bedroom to check one last time before he called Garcia, and while he found signs of a struggle, it wasn’t the one he was dreading.

It was the one she was.

They made eye contact the second the door opened, and upon seeing her safe, Spencer bit back a sigh of relief. There was no relief flooding his veins when the sadness in her eyes traveled to his, creating a sick equilibrium.

Spencer’s mind no longer cared about the missed phone calls, there were more important matters at hand.

“Hi, sweet girl,” was all he said as he shuffled into the room. “I got to go home early today, so I was thinking I could cook dinner for us.” Spencer had started to pick up thrown clothes off the floor, securing them in the dirty hamper. He was about to start putting books back on her bookshelf when she called out.

“Spencer.” It was only a whisper, because anything louder would’ve been too much work.

“I know, I know. My cooking skills aren’t the greatest bu-”

“Spencer,” she said again, much louder this time, even if it was just a hoarse excuse of his name.

He turned to her this time, stopping his cleaning. She had sat up only slightly to catch his eye. Regret filled her veins when they met, but upon gazing into pools of honey that held no pity, but an understanding, it melted.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of truly answering the question, Spencer held up the books that were in his hands. “Do you organize by last name?” When she just gawked at him, he continued, “We’ll do last name.”

She had no energy to fight him, he was right about the last name at least. Instead, she just watched him organize the book shelf in record speed, her mind clearing the fog that laid dangerously close to her thoughts.

When Spencer picked up the last book to be put away, she called for him again.

“Can you read that one to me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself, always bring your notebook, never stop writing. Leave little comics and thank you notes with your tip, watch them smile as you get in your car.

She always sat alone. It was the first thing Spencer noticed about her because he too enjoyed his coffee at a table with only one chair. He would watch her every day when he got the chance to go to this cafe, so much so that his brain associated her with the place. The small mismatched couches that gave it a homey feel would always remind him of her, even if she were not sitting on them.

Who she was? Spencer did not know, but he was going to make it his mission to find out.

He always sat alone. A man like that, one with features perfectly sculpted, and an aura of comfortability so strong she didn’t have to follow the jingle of the bells on top of the door to know it was him who entered. She would look up from her notepad filled with doodles of everyone who walked by her, and comments about the day. He would always be reading, it being a new book each time.

One day when she looked up at him, wondering what he could possibly be reading now, their eyes met. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, like running through a forest, charting unknown territory carefree with no reason to turn back. Everything about him was so soft that she feared if he came any closer to her jagged thoughts, he may find himself ripped to shreds.

For the first time in Spencer’s life, his mind seized its constant running, the relief so strong he felt his limbs follow suit. She had paralyzed him with her stare, green meeting honey, mind numb except for the begging to get up and introduce himself.

In all the times he watched her, Spencer had never seen her smile until that moment. If there was any doubt that he shouldn’t talk to her, it was quickly washed away with the realization he would stop at nothing to see it again.

“Uh hi, I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.” When she looked up at him from where she went back to writing, his heart faltered. Her gaze was so cathartic that it leaves his brain fuzzy and his heart giddy.

Spencer never believed in a god, but if there was one, she was sitting in front of him.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Giddy and fuzzy.

When his phone rings, Spencer swore whoever dared interrupt the moment he’s been dreaming of every night for 4 months was going to feel a wrath unparalleled. He reached into his pocket, and upon reading ‘Hotchner’ in bold letters, his face fell.

“It’s okay. We’ll see each other again,” she reassured him before he had the chance to queue her in on his need to leave. She just knew, the same way she knew it wasn’t going to be the last time she saw his face.

“Until then.”

“Until then.” She smiled as she watched him leave, and once the door shut behind him, she returned to her notebook. The smile never left.

Talk down on yourself whenever possible; my life is shit because I deserve it, right? You must have done something real bad, it’s nearly impossible for you to cry now.

It was always the little moments that Spencer let it slide. When he brought her coffee on the off chance he found a free day, and surrounded by her appreciation for his kindness was a mumbled ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he let it go.

The time they walked by a small boutique, and a dress in the window caught her eye. It was short, purple silk loosely hanging off the collarbone of the mannequin, only to tighten at the waist.

“I couldn’t imagine wearing something like that,” she told Spencer before the two continued to walk. He could.

Spencer thought she would look rather beautiful in it.

And now, they sat on her purple couch while Spencer attempted to pay attention to the TV show she was binging. He kept all his comments to himself, she liked to talk about what they watched after, and he vowed that this time, Spencer would actively participate in the conversation.

But when he looked down at the girl laying in his lap, he found she was no longer following the storyline, and instead looked a million lightyears away.

“Hey.” Her attention snapped to him instantly. “Where'd you go just now?”

“I was just thinking about you,” she admitted. Looking away she continued. “About us.”

She didn’t continue with that thought, but with the sadness that filled her voice, Spencer knew there was more than what she was letting on. He also knew that if she really wanted to share her demons with him, letting them dance circles around them in the dark until the sun came up, she would release them. So instead, he tried to shoo them away.

“You know I love you, right?” If reassurance was what she needed, he would be more than happy to grant her that.

“Why?” She whispered back, so softly that Spencer could’ve missed the way the room no longer just held the two of them. She could not find a singular thing she loved about herself in that moment, so what was Spencer actually seeing?

Spencer sat with that question for a moment.

“You make me smile, even when you’re not with me. When I’m away, thinking about you is the highlight of my day. You’re beautiful, it kind of knocks me off my feet for a second, and you’re so kind, even when people don’t deserve it. You’re a light in the dark. Plus you make really good cookies, but that’s just an added bonus. Does that answer your question?”

Spencer looked back down at her, finding a smile and tears, and somewhere in his mind, he knew to make a mental note of this image.

“Yes,” she whispered before reaching up and cupping his face. “But now I really want cookies.”

Avoid your friends for weeks even though they're the only sense of consistency you have left in your life, if they really wanted to see you they'd come, but they won't.

She could feel herself slowly closing off, and no matter how much she willed for the isolation to find its way out, it still crept in at night. Without care, she let it consume her, taking more and more time during the day to dissipate to inevitably crawl back at the first sign of dark. It infiltrated her mind like a parasite, latching on to the first vulnerable thought.

Spencer did nothing wrong, he was sure of it. What he wasn’t sure of, however, was the reason for his girlfriend’s abrupt distance. He knew that in relationships, sometimes space apart from one another is important, but that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop the nagging feeling.

Something else was wrong, he was sure of it.

Alone she sat staring out the window at cars that drove by and people enjoying the day in each other’s company. The sounds of the world were not enough to drown out her mind’s racing, the thoughts so loud that she could’ve missed the knock at her front door.

It happened again when she refused to move or make a sound that could inform whoever was on the other side of her door that she was home. By the third round of knocking, she grew irritated and stormed over to give whoever interrupted her self loathing a piece of her mind.

But she opened the door and there stood Spencer, and whatever obscenities she planned on yelling were forgotten. In their place, guilt flooded through her because Spencer didn’t storm in angry, or yell at her for avoiding him for a week. Instead, he just stood there, no anger, just unapologetically Spencer.

“It’s been a week,” he said, no heavy emotions in his voice, just very matter-of-factly. “I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

No one had ever just “stopped by” before.

“It’s more than okay.”

Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love, watch as you begin to take a backseat to the world around you, don't fight it. Become a secondary character in your own motion picture.

Spencer wasn’t particularly snooping as he was curious. She was in the shower, and he spotted it. Before he even had the chance to force his eyes anywhere but the leather bound journal, it was too late. His mind was already too curious for any other decision besides to read what was inside.

It was the same journal she was so engrossed in every time he looked at her in the cafe.

The first few pages were simple sketches of people he recognized as regulars from the cafe. On the fifth page, what looked to be an unfinished drawing of a man was found with a little note next to it that read ‘My art doesn’t do him justice.”

Spencer could’ve sworn he had that same haircut 7 months ago.

Moving on, he flipped to a page with a drawing of a sunflower on it, the stem growing up the side of the page with a small flower on the top, leaning over what he suspected was a poem. It read,

with striking precision, my mind is full of thoughts

only i have not a soul to voice these nags

the episodes of Self Growth and Actualization that i long to not be

my reassurance alone.

if only my being was of a sunflower’s,

to sit in a field surrounded by those who are

Just Like Me.

Spencer read it over and over, scouring his brain for the poem’s author. He was trying so hard, his brain going into overdrive that he missed the sound of the shower turning off.

She walked out of the bathroom to find Spencer sitting on her bed, journal in hand.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, although no matter how hard she tried to sound serious and authoritative, it more or so came out joyous with the giggles that followed her question.

“Who wrote this poem?” Spencer asked, finally looking up at her. There she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, bright pink fuzzy pants and a white t-shirt on, drying her hair with a towel and she has never looked more beautiful.

“Which one?” She walked over and peaked at the page Spencer landed on. “Oh, that’s mine.”

It was so nonchalant that Spencer had to repeat it over in his mind to fully grasp what she said.

“You wrote this?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have more?” She laughed at his eagerness, but when she looked over at his dead serious face, her smile dropped.

“You can’t be serious. Spencer I wrote those so long ago. Eventually I realized it was going nowhere and just gave up. They’re really not that special.”

“They are to me.” The couple held eye contact, a silent standoff between the two. One of them had to back out eventually, and then the thought that no one in her life had ever told her that her art, whether it was huge painting or little doodles, long written out memoirs or tiny poems, was special.

So she threw the competition, and sat down next to him on the bed.

“There’s another one on the next two pages.”

You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness, you just needed to find a way to talk to it.

______

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xoxo-teddybear · 4 years ago

Text

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse and manipulation, slice of life(ish), manga spoilers!!

A/N: Ok so this is just what I daydream about, and since ima tv addict, I’m involving some “Avatar: The Last Airbender” related things, but a little different. This is more of an introduction to our character but I hope you enjoy!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Summary: It’s Y/N’s first day at UA.....as a “former” villain

“Y/N L/N. She’s a new transfer student. Treat her with your respect and do your best to take care of her.” The tired teacher spoke.

“.......Hey. Please treat me well.” The intimidating girl said as she bowed in respect.

Now if you were to see Y/N on the streets as a stranger, you wouldn’t even think she would have this threatening aura. The class agreed. She’s gorgeous. From a far, you would think she’s a sweetheart, But the girl had a cold, calm stare in her E/C eyes. There was actually no way to describe it. It was just chilling to the bone.

Not only that, but it was clear you were a little rebel. Mainly because of the way you decided to change up your uniform. Your sleeves were torn off to make your button up top some sort of tight fitted turtle neck with a tie that was complimenting your busty figure. Especially since it was tightly tucked into your skirt, pressing against your torso instead of loosely sitting in there like the other girls. You also added a small dark brown belt to cover where your skirt and top meet. Your waist gave the perfect show of how curvaceous you truly were. Your thighs were deliciously thick and your ass must’ve been a perfect peach, considering it caused your skirt to seem a little too small for you. Instead of the typical shoes and knee high socks, you opted for thigh high dark brown leather boots that folded at the top to match your belt. No heel though, of course. Gotta keep it casual. You finished off your rebellious look with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves. Do you look like trouble? Yup. Do you look hot as hell though? You bet.

“You may be seated next to Katsuki Bakugou.” Your new teacher spoke. Before anybody else could give an indication of who this “Bakugou” boy was, an electric blonde spoke up.

“Be careful with that one pretty lady, he’s our resident hot head.” The boy spoke while the entire class giggled.

“Shut it dunce face.” Your eyes shifted from one blonde to another. This time with a spiky head of ash blonde hair and piercing red eyes. As you walk towards your new seat, you made eye contact with the spiky blonde, you saw the look on his face. Just like everyone else, a face of fear and shock, except this time the person didn’t know who you were.

Bakugou could definitely say upon first glance, you were definitely something fierce. It threw him off just how powerful your presence was. He quickly turned away as you took your seat.

As class began, everyone had their eyes on Y/N. Some admiring her beauty, others wary of her aura, and some too nervous to mention their newfound fear of her. In the middle of Mr. Aizawa’s boring lecture, a scratch at the door could be heard.

‘A scratch?’ Everyone thought. But Y/N knew exactly who it was.

When Mr. Aizawa went to open the door, in came what appears to be a wolf-dog. Mr. Aizawa seemed to casually accept it and just expected you to explain. He was too tired to deal with this crazy shit.

“Oh..there you are Rumor. Took you long enough to find this place.” The creature, also somehow intimidating, simply just huffed at the girl and layed down next to her seat in between her and Bakugou.

“L/N, please explain to the class why Rumor is here. They clearly seem to be confused.” Y/N looked around the room to see her new classmates staring at her and her furry friend.

“*sigh* he’s my animal companion.” You simply stated. Apparently it didn’t satisfy your peers because a freckled, green haired boy spoke up.

“Animal companion? Like a service dog?” The timid boy asked. You secretly rolled your eyes at the fact you’ll have to answer this question again. That is until Bakugou spoke.

“You damn nerd, if he was a service dog, she woulda said that now, don’t ‘cha think?” ‘Dunce face and a damn nerd huh? Wonder what new nickname this hedgehog will give me.’ Your little quip made you give the smallest smile with a quiet laugh to yourself

What you didnt realize was that during your little moment, Bakugou was watching you the entire time. He fought the blush that was threatening to rise and successfully won. ‘The hell?’ Bakugou thought. Since when did he blush?

“He’s right. Rumor isn’t my service dog, he’s my animal companion. And no, not my pet. He’s more like a close friend. My best friend if anything. He’s also not a dog either, he’s a changeling.” You explained hoping someone else knew what a changeling was. Thankfully, the “damn nerd” did.

“Changeling? I thought they were just a myth.” He said. “What the heck is a changeling, Deku?” You turned and saw it was a girl with a round face and pink cheeks. ‘Deku? How rude’ you thought to yourself.

“Changelings were rumored to be magical like beasts who could take the form of any animal they chose. Those forms could be as real as eagles and bears or as mythical as dragons and unicorns. They could also change the size of their form too. Am I right, L/N?” Deku asked you.

“You’re completely right, Deku.” The green haired boy blushed at his nickname on your tongue. “Rumor can be any creature I command. His wolf-dog form is his casual form though. It’s the form he took at birth I guess.”

“You guess?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, I guess. I didn’t have Rumor since he was born. I found him while I was on a walk in the forest. We just clicked, and he followed me home. That’s when I discovered his powers and what he was, and seeing that changelings were only rumored to have existed, I thought it would’ve been a fitting name. We’ve been together ever since, and not only does he work as a friend, he’s a fighter too. He’s like a partner to me which is exactly why principle Nezu allowed him to attend UA with me. I guess you could say he’s part of my...uhm..quirk” You thoroughly explained. You couldn’t help it. You loved talking about Rumor. He was your best friend and definitely one of a kind.

Rumor looked up at you and barked. You turned to pet him on the head and gave him a little smile. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the resident hot head, which once again caused him to fight back a blush. ‘The fuck is going on with me today?’ The blonde thought to himself. Finally satisfied with the answers, the class picked up where they left off and continued to learn about quirks which didn’t seem all that useful to you since....you don’t have one.

——————————————————————————

Later

“Remember, we will all be meeting at gym gamma tomorrow morning, so don’t bother coming to the classroom. Just meet up there with any comfortable gym wear.” Mr. Aizawa said at the end of the day.

“Yes sir!” The class all said. “L/N stay behind, I need to speak to you and Rumor.” The tired teacher said with a yawn.

“Yes sir.” You calmly replied.

As the class gathered their things to leave, some came up to speak to you. First it was Deku and the round faced girl.

“Welcome to UA L/N. My name is Izuku Midoriya!” Deku said.

“Oh my apologies. I thought I heard that your name was Deku.” You said so nonchalantly with your sweet voice.

“Well it’s just a nickname that started up with Kacchan.” The boy was now blushing in slight embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head.

“Kacchan? I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” You said.

“Oh right! My bad, Kacchan is Bakugou. It’s a name I gave him during our childhood.” He stated.

“Seems a little mean.” You chuckled

“Yeah but he’s always been like that.” The boy smiled with a small laugh.

“I think I can tell. He must be really nice to Deku and Dunce face.”

You both shared a laugh at your little sarcastic poke at the explosive blonde that the girl was feeling a little left out.

“Anyways, I’m Ochako Uraraka! I was really hoping I could talk to you more but Deku over here can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.” the girl slightly teased.

“Meh. No worries. We’re gonna be stuck together for the next few years. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” You so kindly spoke as you gathered your stuff.

“Totally! We can-“ Uraraka was cut off by a very handsome two toned boy with a scar. He definitely reminded you of some you knew. You watched as he came up to speak to Midoriya.

“Hey, Midoriya. Did you want to...” you tuned out his conversation. You simply just stared at him in awe. No doubt about it. He was definitely Dabi’s brother. But he was a whole lot more handsome.

The boy caught onto your staring and introduced himself.

“Hello L/N, my name is Shoto Todoroki. You may know me from my father, Endeavor, but I assure you, I’m nothing like him. In fact it’s safe to say I hate him.” He stated ever so calmly. ‘Wow. So blunt. And I guess hating Endeavor runs in the family’

“Hey it’s fine. I get it, daddy issues.” You nervously laughed but this seemed to strike an interest in Todoroki as he seem to have wanted to continue bashing both of your fathers until he was interrupted by Bakugou.

“You’re in my way Icy-hot.” ‘Jeez, another nickname?’ You thought.

“Then move to another side.” Todoroki quickly came back with.

This caused you to now openly give a quiet laugh, you could already tell what kind of relationship those two have. During your small laugh, Bakugou once again caught himself staring, except this time, he was caught. And it was by you.

You both made eye contact once again. As he stared into your E/C colored eyes, and you stared into his rubied gems, you both grew a slight blush on your cheeks and the 3 standing next to you both took notice.

“Hey..” you sweetly said.

“..........hey.” He replied and quickly looked away embarrassed. That peaceful little moment made your heart stir. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. If felt calming, loving, happy...and weird and confusing. Thankfully, Dunce face came up to flip the switch.

“Wow Kacchaaannn,” the electric blonde said wiggling his brows. “Never seen you blush like that. You got a little crush on the new gir-“

“SHUT UP SPARK PLUG!” Bakugou exclaimed as he quickly made his way out of the classroom.

“Hey why you gotta be so mean all the time man!” Dunce face cried out.

“I SAID SHUT UP” Bakugou screamed from down the hall. ‘Well he certainly is interesting.....and cute’

“Ah jeez, whatever,” the blonde sighed before you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Well hey there pretty lady,” he started “I’m Denki Kaminari and you are one gorgeous girl. And you definitely got a rockin’ bod-“ he was cut off by our scary teacher.

“That’s enough Kaminari, I need to speak to L/N. Now all of you, out.” He commanded.

They all took their leave thinking about how cool and kind you were. Oh how wrong they were. The little act you put up sure was convincible. Hell, the only thing you genuinely meant was that Todoroki and Bakugou were cute and the blush that came up whenever Bakugou stared at you. You still couldn’t explain it but you brushed it off.

When all were gone, you mentally took notes of their names and possible quirks.

Izuku Midoriya. Alias: Damn Nerd and Deku. Quirk: unknown.

Ochako Uraraka. Alias: unknown. Quirk: unknown.

Shoto Todoroki. Alias: Icy-hot. Quirk: possibly related to cold and heat

Denki Kaminari. Alias: Dunce Face and Spark Plug. Quirk: possibly related to electricity

Katsuki Bakugou. Alias: Kacchan. Quirk: unknown

“L/N.” Your teacher snapped you out of your quick thought and got you focused.

“You seemed to be very comfortable with telling them about Rumor.” Mr. Aizawa said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well he is my best friend. I could go on and on about Rumor for hours if people didn’t stop me. And you can’t lie, he is pretty interesting. Especially his fighting style. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you....Eraser Head?” You said with a sinister smile.

You were well aware that Aizawa knew Rumor’s capabilities very well. You were also aware he knew much about yours too. I mean, you both have fought each other before. And one of you almost didn’t make it out alive. Hint hint, it wasn’t you.

“You are to address me as Aizawa Sensei or Mr. Aizawa, Titania.” He sternly said.

“Ouch, the villain name? I thought the past was the past. There’s a good inside me, dont you remember? You were the one who said it after all. You were even the one who recommended an S-Class villain like me should join UA.” You snidely replied.

*flashback*

As you fought against the skilled pro, you could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the second. You used your air bending to push him back, crushing him into the wall, and keep him far away. Before you could send Rumor in to finish the job, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Kurogiri? What are you doing here?” You stopped fighting and quickly turned to your superior in a fearful and shaky manner. Although you were much stronger than him and could easily take him down, you knew better. Your mind had already been so manipulated into thinking you were the weakest villain in the league, when it reality, you were strong enough to take down Shigaraki in a snap...but you didn’t need to know that.

Eraser Head, too tired and beaten to even pick himself up off the ground watched the interaction from the distance.

“You were told to collect intel, not fight a pro.” The black fog stated.

“Well yes, but he tried to stop me an-“ he silenced you with a smack to the face. Kurogiri was a respectful man...in ways...but he was just following orders on how to treat Y/N.

“If he tried to stop you, you run away.” He said, matter of factly.

“But he-“ once again, he cut you off but this time with a louder voice.

“But nothing! You were to gather intel and report back to base. Not fight. If you got into trouble, you are to run away, and use your bending and Rumor as assistance.” He stated.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” You said with your head bowed down in dishonor.

Aizawa could already tell from afar how controlled you were. In past fights, he’s noticed how you were so quick to succumb to any villain in the league, and you were always so willing to go back to them no matter how many times you could’ve ran away on your own. It was like they had something you needed, or more so it was them that you needed. For survival, perhaps?

“Did you even gather the information we needed?” Kurogiri asked.

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. With a disappointing glare he reached for you, when you flinched at just the slighted movement, Aizawa knew something was wrong. Yes you were a villain, but it was clear you were also a manipulated child. So he acted quick, and attacked Kurogiri, knocking him out, and grabbed you. Before you both took off, you threw one of your earrings at kurorgiri’s unconscious body, knowing he’ll know what to do once he sees it. As he ran with you, he took notice of the animal behind him that followed you. When he finally landed on a cliff hanging over the city, he placed you down to sit on the grass and looked at you before speaking.

“I can see it. All of it. They’re controlling you aren’t they?” The pro-hero spoke.

“Excuse me? Nobody is controlling anybody! I choose to follow orders!” You yelled as Rumor came up to you.

“What is that thing?” Aizawa asked.

“He’s my friend and you won’t harm him!” You said while grabbing onto Rumor.

The pro took note of that word you used. Friend. Villains don’t have friends, they don’t have anybody but goons and partners in crime. Literally. You were definitely different compared to these other villains.

“I have no intentions on harming you or your friend.” The pro spoke.

“So what do you want with me.”

“....Simple. I want you to go to school, live in the dorm rooms, eat good food, train more to become better as a person and fighter, and make more friends. I see a good in you Titania, you deserve a good life. Not one controlled by villains where you do their bidding for what? Survival?” Aizawa said as he crossed his arms while looking at you.

You were in shock. He was able to figure you out. Well, he figured out why you were with the league. Survival. But it doesn’t matter, you were so brainwashed that you were convinced anyone outside the league wanted to kill you...at least that’s what the LOV told you.

“I don’t want to go to school, I want to go back home to the league.” You said while looking down and holding onto your furry friend.

“Home? UA could give you a better home.”

You looked up in shocked at his words. He wanted you to attend school at UA? You know that place. That’s the one place where the league has been so invested in ever since All Might joined the staff there. Suddenly, an idea came into thought. You knew exactly how you were gonna get into the league’s good graces and out of the cold shadow.

“UA?....That’s where you want me to go? How the hell am I supposed to get in there? I’m a known villain genius.” You sarcastically said.

“A villain hidden behind a full face mask. People don’t know your true identity, and did you ever think that maybe the league wants it that way?” He said

“Are you saying you know who I truly am?” You questioned him.

“No, but that doesn’t matter right now. If you want to go to UA, I can help you. I’m a teacher there and I can put in a good word for you. Sure it will take a lot of convincing but I’m willing to do it. Using UA as a reformatory program for you could be benefitting you in more ways than one. So if going to UA is what you really want, I’m more than happy to help you Titania.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your heart was so excited. You were finally going to get away from this horrible life of crime and killing. Away from the abuse and blood. Away from the league. But your brain was telling you to deny it all. You were safer with the league, everyone is out to get you, and you will die without the villains help. But a bark broke you out of thought.

You turned to your side to see what seems to be a smile on Rumor’s face. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out while giving you puppy dog eyes. It appears he knew what was going on and he seemed excited. For your best friend, the world. So you gave in...happily.

“Y/N.” You said while getting up off the ground.

“Huh?” The pro spoke.

“My name is Y/N L/N, and I’d be happy to join UA.” You said with a smile and tears of joy filling you eyes. Rumor happily barked at the pro as well.

“Well alright then,” the pro said sticking out his hand for you to shake, “Y/N L/N, welcome to UA.”

As you shook his hand your smile held a thousand words. Happiness, excitement, villainy, and sin. Sure you were going to benefit yourself, but you were also going to benefit the league.

*Present Time*

“I was hoping I’d get more respect from you considering I was the one who got you into UA,” Aizawa tiredly said while turning his head towards the ceiling and crossing his arms. “But I guess that mischief and attitude just comes with the deal.”

“Correct.” You simply said.

“So are you willing to tell them what your “quirk” is? You seemed so open about Rumor, I thought your powers would be the same.” Aizawa pressed on.

“Not sure yet. I only just met the students. They seem nice.” You said while looking at your now very interesting shoes.

“They’re a crazy bunch, but they’re incredible friends. They could be great friends to you too Y/N.” You looked back up at him with hope, but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place.

The teacher took noticed of this and continued. “Either way, they’ll have to see what you got tomorrow. In gym gamma we’ll be doing some sparring including our quirks, so you’ll have to show them all that you can do.” He said.

He saw how that made you nervous. Not because you were scared to speak about or show your abilities, but because you knew you would be hit with thousands of questions. Oh how annoyed you must be.

“Understood.” You said to him as if you were a soldier. He won’t get used to that. He’ll have to make sure you know it’s ok to speak to people as..well people, and not like everyone is your superior.

“Good,” he began to walk to his yellow sleeping bag to pick it up, “now head to the front of the school. I left an escort for you to help guide you to your dorm room. That person will also be a guide in all things UA for you so be nice. You’ll be stuck with them for awhile. That is all, you can go now.”

As you and Rumor made your way to the front, you had so many questions going on in your mind. Should you make new friends or keep them at a distance? Should you completely drop the league and join UA? Should you blow your cover and expose why your truly there? What to do, what to do.

When you made it to the front, you finally saw your escort, and you couldn’t help but give a little smirk.

“Hey..”

A/N: If y’all wanna see the clothes that inspired Y/N’s uniform, check this out!!!

A/N: Damn guys, I know I’ve only just started writing but this is kinda the story I imagine in my mind at night. So I thought it would be fun to give it to reality. So here’s my first FanFic😅 hopefully it doesn’t turn out too terrible, but I promise to work on my skills and improve. Also, if you need a reference to what Y/N’s uniform looks like, search up “Akame from Akame Ga Kill.” That’s the look that heavily inspired Y/N’s new uniform. And if you’re confused on what the boots look like, search up “Lucy Heartfilia thigh high boots,” bc those are the EXACT boots I imagine on Y/N except in a darker brunette color to match the belt. Once again, NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed pt. 1! And if this goes well, tell me if you’d like a pt. 2! I love to hear feedback! Thx <3

344 notes · View notes

caterpellas · 4 years ago

Text

munich nights • harry styles

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (oral m recieving)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut

pt 1/? (two is here) word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first time writing in like a year so some feedback would be amazing, pls be kind and show some love to my crumby attempt lol

chapter playlist :D

harry.

he was sort of your anchor. unspoken, of course, that he had taken such a high profile role in your life. he didn’t need to know, to know. you were certain it worked in reverse, that you grounded him just like he did for you.

you’re not sure of the timestamp on the beginning of your friendship, sometime 3 years ago after mindlessly chatting in a shoreditch bar, at the sort of venue you were both cackling over after a couple of overpriced gin and tonics.

“i’m not sure why i came here, it really isn’t my scene,” you said after calming your laughter down.

“me neither. i’m not all that into £18 cocktails made with organic fruit juice,” he jested back, although you felt a hint of sadness in the next, “it makes me miss home.”

after that you clicked instantly.

you both bonded over being musicians; your styles contrasted entirely though. his band, who you met a few occasions later, were the antithesis to yours. mitch and sarah looked and sounded like they were fresh from a 70’s pop rock band, whilst your bassist and drummer, both twins, had buzzed heads and black dr martens on 24/7. the differences between you and him didn’t matter in the slightest. which is why, after 18 months of building the strongest friendship you’d had in your life, he asked you and your band to come on tour with him.

touring with your best friend and now biggest fan was the single greatest experience of your life. you would admit to the apprehension you first felt about opening for harry as your music wasn’t exactly in keeping with his genre- you were a little grungier then his soft style. i suppose the opposites between you is what enhanced everything about your relationship, musically and personally. in articles harry was always praised for his effeminate fashion choices, and since gaining some recognition as his opener, the articles were now mentioning how you dressed too, hyping up your more boyish, ‘can’t be bothered’ clothing taste you’d developed over your years in the band. your shoes were always chunky and platform, your top or bottoms usually oversized and always with the same thick chain around your neck. to some, your style seemed intimidating but it couldn’t be further from the truth. harry knew that best of all.

3 months into the tour now, you had made it to munich for the 1st night of your european portion of the tour. you and harry were sat next to one another on the plane, sharing an earpod each, playing music from your playlist titled “h”. you hadn’t been able to sleep on the overnight flight, after reading a particularly disturbing article about harry’s recent paparazzi shots. “harry styles’ player ways making a comeback?” it read, and pictured him with a couple models you’d met in new york together after going out for the night. you couldn’t place why but the article made you feel sick. you put it down to seeing such a close friend’s name slandered in the press, and you hoped he hadn’t read it yet. harry was often disheartened after reading the gossip people like to spread about him, occasionally involving you as well.

“you seem very deep in thought.” harry’s morning voice could be heard over the sound of steely dan in your ears. turning to him, one of his eye’s peering at you, you reply, “not really- just thinking about the set list.”

“you need to switch off your work brain sometimes,” he grins up at you, “have a little more fun! munich will be great, lots of beer to try.”

“of course that’s what you look forward to most. you know munich is filled with some beautiful architecture and history right?”

“that’s great and all, but you know what else they have?” harry questions you and you shake your head.

“oktoberfest.”

you arrived at your airbnb not long after- harry’s band and yours all preferred staying in a large house or apartment then some posh hotel that didn’t feel quite as welcoming. harry’s manager picked the place out, opting for a villa that sleeps 10 people, filled to the brim with oak panelling and a big fire place in the centre of the room. there was a hot tub outside that would probably never be used in your short stay there. the kitchen had a large island in the middle and a big aga keeping the place warm in the late september weather. his manager really outdid herself this time.

“this is place is so beautiful,” you still weren’t over all of the beautiful places this tour had taken you, the short time you’d been travelling had been a sensory overload.

“you’ll really like munich, y/n,” harry said yawning, grabbing both your shoulders from behind. his touch took your mind back to the article.

“harry,” you started, reluctantly turning to face him, “i know it’s none of my business who you, you know- fuck, but i was just wondering what happened with those models after i left?” harry’s calm expression never faltered as he answered, “me and camila kissed in the taxi but then i went back to the hotel. why?” you didn’t have the strength to answer honestly, and tell him it was because the thought of him having a threesome with two supermodels made you physically wretch, but you felt an obligation to give him a somewhat truthful answer.

“i saw an article about it, the paps caught a glimpse of it,” you white-lied. if you were going to be honest with yourself, the reason him with people like camila and gina bothered you so much is because of the way you compared yourself to them. you were overall confident, you were proud of your style and “gives no fucks” attitude you’d built up over the years, but these were literal models. women who were paid, like paid a lot, because they were beautiful. harry’s dating history has had a lot of women you could never measure up to be as good as and that was a real confidence breaker.

“well anyway, are you ready for tonight’s show? we were thinking it would be cool if you guys came on with us and...”

harry, as per usual, performed with all of his heart and soul and yet again amazed you. he had been doing this for three months, playing at least three shows a week and his energy levels were still unmatchable. you were back in your dressing room, taking off your stage clothes and putting on an almost identical outfit, wiping the sweat off your brow and upper lip. the monitor in your room played harry’s set, and you had to find any way you could to distract yourself from his performance before you ended up fantasising about the way his sweaty curls cling to his neck and how you wished he was sweating like that just for you, for an entirely different reason.

“thank you so much munich!” you hear harry’s accent through the small tv, and look up to see him panting and grinning, before running off stage. you had no idea why, but tonight there was a small amount of nervousness about you. since reading the article, you’ve had to address the gnawing idea that you could possibly have feelings for harry that were more than just your deep set friendship. would you act differently about the man you loved more than anyone in this world? you didn’t want things to change- they were perfect with him. he’d jest with you when you became too much of a perfectionist about your latest song, telling you to stop thinking so hard or you’ll have an aneurysm. if people commented on his style or yours, he’d laugh it off and tell everyone he’s “the woman in the relationship” sarcastically, and you’d be in awe at how he essentially said a huge “fuck you” to gender norms. he made you comfortable being you and you coveted his ability to be so happy being him. the thought of this bond being broken frightened you to your core. the knock at your door was a good signal for your thoughts to end.

“you coming y/n?” the group of you were all headed to a german beer bar, since harry was so eager to try the world famous pilsner. finding a large lounge space with sofas inside the bar, you all sat and ordered a round, celebrating a good night’s work.

“to the first night in europe,” you toasted, “cheers!” all your glasses clinked together and the nervous feeling started to fade finally. sat next to harry, you discussed the tour so far, he told a story about being in one direction and it reminded you of a hilarious story from when you were 15, when you used to listen to emo music and swore how much you hated one direction, and they all laughed at the irony. if you had told your 15 year old self this was where you’d be at 21, you’d have snorted and laughed till you cried. but life works out in strange ways and you wouldn’t change it for a second. a few drinks in and any of those nervous feelings about what harry was to you had evaporated like alcohol till you eventually had to remind yourself that whilst your hand was on harry’s knee, it meant nothing. and the way he leans forward to you as he laughed at your not-so-funny joke. but those reminders were getting weaker the more his touch started to linger after he went to go and grab his pint the same time you did.

“we really must stop meeting like this,” he jokes as your hand rubs against his for the 50th time that might and you laugh at him because your afraid if you don’t play it off as a joke you’ll lean over and kiss him. you find yourself in need of a distraction from his low buttoned shirt and endless black ink drawn across his chest that you can see in high definition when your this close to him.

“i’m going to get another round,” you exclaim dramatically, telling yourself more than the rest of the group. making your way over to the bar, you can feel harry’s vision bearing into your back as you lean against the counter to get service.

“another round of pilsners on the table’s tab please,” you ask as soberly as you can. you’re not off your face yet, but the alcohol is definitely present, surrounding the corners of your vision.

“i’d rather by you a drink.” a slightly german accent crowds your ears and you look over to see a man, not all that different to some of the guys in harry’s band, smirking at you.

nervous, you reply, “no you don’t need to do that we have a tab here.”

“i insist.” afraid to be impolite you quietly thank him, and turn back to the bar. you can’t even think of chatting to guy at a bar whilst the man you love is sat so close by. even though it’s not returned, the pain of giving him up to flirt with a stranger is too much to bare.

“so what brings you to a local’s bar like this one?”

“me and my friends are working here for the night.”

“just here for the night? such a shame,” his smile, although attempting to seem unthreatening, is making you uncomfortable. the bartender seems to be taking forever with your order.

“i’m staying in a hotel a few minutes away, come and join me and their bar for a real drink?” your heart was pounding. you rarely got hit on so you were a little out of practice on how to deal with persistent assholes like these ones.

“i can show you how the germans like to do it.” that was it- he’d gone too far and you were so embarrassed by this point you were too humiliated to even reply to him. your neck was getting hotter and you could feel your cheeks reddening.

“you okay?” harry’s voice took you out of your panic-stricken state, “you were taking a while.”

turning to harry and preparing to tell him how this man won’t get the message, the german creep pipes up, “she’s fine mate. we were just discussing a date.”

“listen mate, i suggest you back off. alright?” harry grabbed your hand, tightly, and guided you out of the bar.

“harry where are we going?” you could barely comprehend what had happened in the last five minutes to even realise he was hailing a taxi.

“back to the house. i’ll text the others.”

“harry i’m fine honestly it’s no-“

“who said i was fine? i wanted to leave and i thought maybe you did too.” he was angry, which wasn’t something you saw in harry often. he was a happy guy, and optimistic about most things in life.

“is this because of that guy?”

“of course it is y/n.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t realise he’d be an assho-“

“why’re you apologising?”

this shut you up. you didn’t know why. this wasn’t the first time a guy had been slightly predatory towards you and you doubted it would be the last. after the first couple times your in situations like this you tend to see yourself as the problem and not the guys doing it.

“i don’t know, harry.” you climbed into the cab together and harry gave them the address, seeming somewhat cooled off from earlier. your head was buzzing from the alcohol and the fact that harry had essentially rescued you from what could have been a scary situation.

“harry?”

“yeah, y/n?”

“why did you kiss camila?” alcohol had made you more outspoken and you asked the question that had been driving your nervous energy all night.

“why are you asking?”

a little more honestly then last time, you answered, “i’m just curious.” harry shifted in his chair, slightly unnerved by the question. his whole demeanour had shifted entirely from earlier. he was close and warm with you, the friend you’d become addicted to being with. now he was closed off and moody- a rare sight for anyone who knew him well. you could have picked a better time to ask the question, of course, but you had to know. you had other questions too, like why he was so angry right now, and why did he care that i was chatting with a guy at the bar, even if he was a creep.

“because she wanted to kiss me and i wanted to kiss her. the same reason most humans kiss,” there was a slight element of humour back in his voice now.

“and that was it?”

“yep.”

“hmm.” you tried to ponder this, but your attention span was limited when you were this inebriated. your thought process had quickly moved from harry’s sex life to harry in general and his outfit of the evening- a personal favourite. he’d worn white cream trousers with a vest top and an unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, along with the necklace you’d given him last christmas. you could see his two swallows peaking from the straps of his wife beater and your mind wandered to the thought of having your mouth against them. against all his tattoos, individually placing a kiss on each and everyone that you had grown to fall in love with.

you remembered the memory of harry coming with you to get your largest tattoo, a greek statue on your upper arm.

“harry you know this isn’t the first one i’ve gotten?” you laugh at how hard he was clutching your hand in the chair next to your seat.

“i know but i’m so excited for you. i want you to know i’ll be sat here the whole time to hold your hand,” he squeezes your hand to emphasise his point.

“harry i’m getting another tattoo not going into life-altering surgery.”

but inside, you were squealing at his words.

“y/n?”

harry’s less chipper current voice took you out of your memory and back to the cab in munich.

“you’ve been staring at my chest for a couple minutes,” his brows were furrowed as he studied your face.

“i want to lick it.” if someone had asked you why you answered with that, you genuinely couldn’t give them a good answer. alcohol didn’t do much to you, except allow you to have fun, and lose any sense of a filter. now was a perfect example of the effects. harry’s eyes widened at your candour- and so did yours. his calm expression only faltered for a few seconds though, before it returned to his neutral, warm face.

“what else?”

“i-uh- what?”

“what else were you thinking about?” your heart was beating so loudly you were sure harry could feel it across in his seat. why was harry asking this? you didn’t want him to know about your thoughts- they were far too embarrassing and far too private.

“i was thinking about all your tattoos,” you confessed.

“i was thinking about yours too.” you thought about all of your tattoos and remembered the dog rose you had on the back of your thigh, as well as the koi carp on your hip bone.

“which ones?”

“the flowers and the fish.” you gulped, knowing he was thinking of your most risqué tattoos.

harry, unusually, was completely serious as he said, “i thought about licking yours too.” you didn’t know where you stood with harry now. you were sat in a taxi, having the conversation with him that you thought would never happen. he wants you the same way you want him. he may not want you the same way a nagging voice told you. he could just be looking for an easy fuck, and you thought to yourself that even if that was all he wanted, you’d still give yourself to him.

“harry-“

“maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore, yeah?” you felt like you could cry- how could he not want to talk, and you were on tour together? this was the most gut wrenching feeling to have him tell you not to talk anymore. harry studied your face as you lip began to quiver, “jesus y/n i meant about the current conversation. of course i want to keep talking to you, i love you- you know, like a friend.”

“like a friend?” you couldn’t ever begin to describe how your heart felt like it fell to the pit of your stomach whilst the acid slowly burnt it away. friends is it. harry isn’t yours to have and he never will be, he just had to remind you in words of this.

“well we’re both a little drunk and clearly turned on- maybe just this once it could be more than friends? just for tonight, i mean?” harry’s clear green eyes didn’t stop looking into yours, and he seemed, i’m not sure, hopeful? as if on cue, the taxi took you back to your villa which was warmly lit from inside and you felt a nervous excitement crawl up your arms and legs at what could possibly come next. harry gave the driver the cash and you dashed quickly to the door of the house, the cool september air cutting through you both dressed inappropriately for the time of year. it dawned on you that your outfit- a big vintage men’s shirt with your oldest and favourite pair of dr martens with sheer tights- wasn’t the wisest choice. harry fumbled with unlocking the door and opened it to find the fire lit and the lights dimmed. it was more romantic than either of you would ever mention out loud but it felt like the house was routing for you. you weren’t sure where harry wanted this to go next, the air beginning to stiffen and feel awkward.

turning to face him, you started, “harry i-“ his lips met yours in an instance and any of the awkwardness left in the room had been dissolved by harry’s soft kiss. he tasted good, despite the beer you’d both been drinking and had you not been intoxicated by the pilsner and harry’s gentle touch, you’d probably care about things like breath. harry grabbed you by the shoulders, much like he did earlier that same day, and guided you into the room further, finding the large sofa and pushing you onto it. falling back, you glanced up at his towering figure. harry was already tall, but his powerful presence added a less literal height to him, and his shadow looked over you. you couldn’t help but stare at him as he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, exposing some of your favourite tattoos of his. you got to your knees so that you were closer to his body and you finally relaxed in his presence, touching all the places you’d dreamed about. your hands raked up his torso to his chest and his head leant down to kiss you again. his lips were perfect and seemed made to be against yours so tightly, and made for the crook of your neck as well as they kissed and sucked there too. the fire in the corner of your eyes illuminated the small amount of gold in harry’s hair and he looked as angelic as he always did in your dreams.

“am i better than him?” harry murmured against your neck. the question caught you off guard. he’d only known one other person you’d had a sexual relationship with since you two became friends and that was a sound tech from one of his old touring groups that you had a small fling with. him and harry never got along and harry even accused him of purposely messing his sound up during a performance once. harry has walked in on you giving him head in your dressing room once and it was incredibly awkward but you both moved past it.

“who are you talking about?”

“you know, that arsehole sound tech from the american tour. do i kiss you better than him?” you could hear the layers to his voice- he was asking with a confidence that you felt straight in your core, but there was another layer to it- insecurity.

“god yes,” you gushed, he had to at least know how he physically made you feel even if you can’t admit your feelings, “you kiss far better then he ever could.”

an idea came into your head at this, “in fact, i bet you’ll feel better in my mouth then he did.” harry jaw slacks slightly and you give him a shy smile. talking like this wasn’t something you ever tried when you were having sex, but harry made you want to be honest. it was the closest you could get to confessing your love to him, and you’d take what you could get from harry right now. stunned into silence, you continue to undress harry, removing his vest to expose his lean stomach and small trail of hair from his belly button, that you kissed all the way down. he let out a sharp breath as soon as you got to the top of his pubic bone, and you finally noticed just how hard harry already was. with a little fascination, you dared to take it to the next level and cupped his length through his trousers, causing harry to groan at the contact. he felt big in your small hand, you couldn’t wait to reveal him, impatiently struggling with his zipper.

“woah, y/n, slow down,” harry puts a finger under your chin and you look up under your lash at him, knelt below him. his smile is a classic harry smile and for a brief second this feels like more than a casual fuck.

“you’re still wearing too much clothing.” harry bends slightly to get to the bottom of your shirt and speedily pulls it over your head, revealing your black cotton bralet and tights. harry’s mouth watered at the sight of you in nothing but your underwear and boots, your long hair falling in messy waves around your minimally tattooed arms. your sure your black eyeliner is smudged and your gloss practically jin existent but harry’s eyes make you feel like he wants nothing more then to fuck you.

“that’s much better,” he smiles again at you, and you take that as a good cue to continue on his member. eagerly, your hands go straight back to his flies, rapidly undoing them and letting his loose fit trousers fall from his hips, exposing his form fitted boxers and you get a much better idea of just how big harry’s cock really was. without realising you mumble, “i want you in my mouth so bad,” under your breath.

“fuck say that again.”

looking under your lashes again, you repeat, “i want your cock in my mouth so bad.” harry groans as his eyes roll back, his words almost being enough without your touch. but your hand still went back to his dick, pulling it out from the restraint of his boxers. it was thick and bigger then you had been with before. without missing a beat, your hand pumped him a few times, and his hips reacted instantly. as if beckoning for your lips to surround his cock, his hips thrust towards you again, and you obliged, licking and then parting your wetted lips for the head of his dick. the pre-cum touched your tongue and it urged you to take more of him further, swiping your tongue on the underside as you push more in. harry moans, gripping your scruffy hair in his large hand, and had to restrain from pushing your mouth around his whole length. as your mouth got acquainted with him, you started to move up and down the length, as harry’s moans got higher and louder.

“y/n your mouth is fucking magic.” the praise went straight to your clit and your underwear was dampening at the knowledge of the dirty things your mouth was doing.

“can you- fuck- can you grab my balls?” you responded immediately and cupped them lightly whilst continuing to bob your head on his cock.

“didn’t know you could you use your mouth for such dirty things, y/n. do i fill you better then he did?”his jealousy fuelled you to go even quicker, this time switching up to concentrating on his swollen head, your tongue lapping against it feverishly, whilst your hand pumped the rest of him. the combination of your hand and mouth was enough to drive harry insane.

“you do so good y/n, i’m gonna cum soon okay?” you release him from your mouth, and keep stroking him, eager for him to orgasm. you couldn’t describe the desperation you had to see the way he looked as he climaxed. if you were to die after this, you knew you would die happy, if only to have seen harry in that state of euphoria that only you could bring him to.

“fuck y/n i’m gonna cum,” harry pants, his thighs tensing and his eyes glazing over. you aim him over your chest and feel his load fall all over your breasts, soaking your bralet as he lets out a breathy moan. his breathes are loud and aside from the fire crackling are the only noise filling the space of the living room. you let his now soft cock go and fall back onto the sofa, too tired to think about all of what just happened, the only thought on your mind is of harry’s moans on repeat. your chest is sticky but you’re too exhausted to care. harry has slowly crept over to sit next to you on the sofa, and you’re unspokenly thankful he hasn’t distanced himself afterwards.

“i need to clean you up.” harry disappears as quickly as he arrived and comes back with a warm flannel. wiping your chest, you watch his face as his brows furrow delicately on his forehead and his mouth is slightly crooked in concentration. you loved every single portion of his face, and suddenly it meant something different. you had seen his face at it’s most real and vulnerable and you had that memory forever.

unfortunately moments like the one you and harry had finally shared don’t last forever, and once harry’s done wiping your breasts off, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, grabs his clothes and leaves you on the sofa.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #friends to lovers #bestfriend!harry #fine line album #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles icons #harry styles one shot #writing #one direction smut

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shintorikhazumi · 4 years ago

Text

“Diana.”

A/N: To be honest, I had wanted this to be a Diana-centric fic, from Diana’s perspective. I struggled to find a concept, and had a little help from a friend who sent me a random generator. (Thanks, Kate :>) And when I thought I’d just choose from a randomly generated idea, I came across this video on youtube which was actually a compilation of a tiktok series of the story of two neighbors. Of course, I changed bits of it, and obv the end so if you think you know what the source vid is, dw. I won’t hurt y’all like that ;-; And I’ll just link it at the bottom so no plot spoilers for those who don’t know what it is. Eyyyy.

This fic has a few song recs for y’all to listen to if you haven’t heard them already, lol. ;)

I had been looking for something... “emotional” for Diana’s bday fic. And I think... this works. At least for me, it does. It’s not from Diana’s perspective, but... I think this works. So without further ado, Happy birthday Diana and...

oh, thank you to @tracedinairlwa for some help with the music :> that y’all will see later in the fic :’>. Without further ado,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It all started with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

No, it isn’t Akko’s piano. Her piano has been sitting in a corner of her room, collecting dust- untouched for months. And that is just the thing. Unless her piano has somehow become cursed and has decided to ghostly play on its own, then there had to be some other source.

The source of that gentle sound, Akko eventually pinpoints, is her apartment wall- or more accurately, what lies beyond that separator.

As she sits on her couch, admiring the expressive tones, her mind has decided that it wants to capture this special moment, and keep it stored lest she never experiences it again.

Making a quick dash for her bedroom, she opens her bedside drawer and fishes for her old camera from her university days in film club, back when she was an actual student of the Arts and all that creative jazz. She has tried to maintain it, but being under lockdown allows her few chances of seeing the outside world, and the few corners of her home don’t exactly spark ‘inspiration’ for any project.

Dusting the device off gently, she takes it back to the living room, placing it on her coffee table facing herself. She clicks the record button, thinking of making an introduction; but she quickly abandons that idea as she realizes it may take away from the sounds she wants to ring more apparent on tape.

Maybe she can just edit a few captions later on her laptop. Yes. That sounds good.

So she sits.

And the notes kept playing.

[Video Diary(?) Diary? Is this a Diary? Day... Day 1. I hope it’s only Day 1. I hope there’s a day 2. And a three... and a five.

So anyway, Akko here. And uh... I got a new neighbor, I think. He/she plays the piano. I do too (kinda. Haven’t done that in a while, hehe).

I don’t know why I recorded this... this must seem like I’m being a creep, but... They just... played Chariot’s Melancholy from my favorite show and... it felt sadder than usual. The sound felt sorrowful. I don’t know...

I’m... moved.]

//-//-//-//-//

She does not know what compels her today, to slip that message under her neighbors door; but before she can even think about her actions, they’d already been done.

A simple, “can you please play ‘Ease My Mind’ by Ben Platt, maybe?” haphazardly scrawled on a piece of notebook paper is delivered with the anxious feelings of an interaction-craving Akko, starved of a social life since all this pandemic misfortune began.

She is sure she no longer knows how to string a proper introduction together after nearly a year of being by her lonesome.

This is about to change however. Starting today.

Maybe.

She counts down the hours ‘til sunset.

[Day 2! Yey! So uh... I kind of... went on the attack- no! I didn’t attack anyone! I just... You know how I have a new neighbor that plays the piano? I sent that neighbor a note.

And you might think that’s all fine and cute, but... I’ve never even met my neighbor... but...

I love his/her music. So much.

And I told them. On the note, of course. Duh, Akko.

I asked them to play ease my mind and... they did.

As you can hear in the video... I guess it was a yes. :>

...They eased my mind...

-Akko]

//-//-//-//-//

She wants to try something today.

She has been thinking about it the past few days after continually being blessed with such beautiful music. Music that had attracted her like moth to a flame. The piano’s daily sunset singing compels her to come reunite with her own.

She had wiped it clean earlier in the morning and now sits awkwardly on the bench, punching down a random note here and there.

What a nostalgic tone.

The C major scale then the G. She plays it. A few arpeggios to warm up. F sharp major doesn’t sound too good, with her fingers tangling up as she traverses the scale. What was the fingering supposed to be like again? Right. Start with the fourth and second finger on the left and right hand respectively.

That sounds much better.

She hums a few tunes, choosing from a playlist arranged in her mind. She settles on something gentle and sweet. A Yiruma song. Just to get the feeling back in her hands.

A river flows as notes along the plain that is her silent room, adorning the quiet flourishes and curves, bringing color to her atmosphere.

She misses this. This tingle in her heart as music fills up her entire soul, not allowing her to think of anything else but this exact moment.

Yes.

This... This is nice.

And Akko plays until the sunset comes.

She can’t wait for it to come.

[Day 6. I... I haven’t played the piano in a while, and I’m a little rusty. But brave ol’ Akko here thought it’d be great to ask for a duet from the virtuoso across the drywall, haha. I left a note...

And I though we had something going. I was excited... I said that they could play once I stopped my part, but... did they forget? Or I guess they didn’t hear me.

It’s okay... I can try again tomorrow.

I hope. Tomorrow...

-This has been Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

She excitedly videos this weekend ‘meet-up’.

Akko still doesn’t know who lives across the wall, but she sure knows his or her favorite songs by now, hearing it daily at the same sunset hours.

She admires the music, as usual, but this time it’s different. This time, they had sent her a note. An apology for missing out last time.

They request a duet with her, to make up for it. Of course, Akko accepts. And now she starts it off, praying and hoping her sound is heard through the barrier that keeps their music apart.

She ends her part of the duet, waiting in the most agonizing few seconds of silence. She briefly worries that her neighbor had forgotten their proposition; or maybe they couldn’t hear her once more.

It’s fine, she thinks... It’s okay. She scratches her cheek, wondering if she should hold on until next time again-

There it is. That beautiful sound, so personal to the one living across the wall. A sound of emotion that could only belong to whoever it was living there.

Akko had never heard anyone else play the way her neighbor did.

She laughs, she feels herself tear up a little. It hurts so sweet in her chest. It’s a fizzy, bubbling excitement. It’s a stretched-out joy across her cheeks.

A success!

A beautiful one, indeed.

[Day 8: Akko here. My wish came true. I... got to play with my neighbor! Yay!

... Maybe I should go meet them now...]

//-//-//-//-//

They do it again.

Akko excitedly bounces in her warmed piano seat, listening to her neighbor go first this time around. She listens intently. Once the wall music stops, she starts. This was their agreement, their deal.

The river’s flow stills a moment, and that’s Akko’s cue to pick up the current’s pace once more.

She plays with shy gusto, caressing the keys in a way that shows how she’s fallen in love again. With the piano? With music? Yes. With- ...

Love, huh. It’s such perfect timing too.

Today is Valentine’s day.

Akko doesn’t know whether or not her neighbor has anyone special in her life like that, but if they share the same situation, all alone in their apartments, locked in by the pandemic, she just wants them to know she receives the message their music is trying to get across to one another.

Her heart feels it. It translates it.

It cherishes it.

[Day 13.

Dear Neighbor,

I just... wanted to share the words we’ve exchanged, not through any verbal means, but through the sounds that reverberate against the very foundations of our connected homes. Thank you for this message.

I know that music is... our way of simply saying

“I don’t know who you are ... But I’m here. You’re not Alone.” This is for you too.

-Sincerely, Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

It is a challenge.

For Akko or for her neighbor, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that tomorrow is going to be the big day! She’s finally going to see the face behind the songs that have embraced her tenderly throughout the lonely struggle she hadn’t realized had weighed down on her so heavily.

The interactions they’ve had, the conversations, they brighten up her everyday, and Akko is somewhat afraid she’s gotten attached; addicted- if you will- to this unique bond she’s formed with another she has never actually met.

Her mind strays from her current piece, body autopiloting a song called, “Mind Conductor” that both of them just so happen to like, apparently. Another fact that makes Akko feel all giddy as they seem to share a taste in other media outside of music.

She feels herself vibrate with nerves and excitement.

It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.

[We’re Finally Meeting.

Tomorrow.]

//-//-//-//-//

Akko tells a story.

She’s met her neighbor, not knowing what to expect. Despite having a lack of said expectations, she could confidently say it was better than anything she could have anticipated.

She rolls up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, readying herself to write the melodious response to the already playing tune in the background of her video.

Though she tries to listen intently, waiting for her turn, she is distracted. She knows she is.

After meeting someone as wonderful as her neighbor.

Blonde hair and blue eyes invade her recall, flashes of a soft smile and calm voice playing over and over in her head.

Her neighbor is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. Breath-taking. Akko says this with utmost objectivity as her lungs struggle to function after first meeting the lady.

Hailing from Scotland, the twenty-five-year-old had introduced herself to Akko. They exchanged a few pleasantries, some questions and information.

Akko had asked how she’d never known she had such a talented neighbor, to which the response was an admission from the woman that she had just moved in and was only staying in the adjacent apartment temporarily while awaiting for a relative to come for her after selling their old house back in their hometown.

Her mother... rests. Having had a certain heart disease for a while, her immune system had proven very susceptible to the pandemic reaper that had claimed her life for its tallied count. She never knew her father, it seemed.

Akko’s heart breaks as she remembers these things.

“All I have left is the piano.”

That’s what she’d said to her earlier.

Akko’s fingers glide across the keys, playing her role in this drama for two.

“I play at sunset because my mother came home at that time from work... she was always stressed.

...I wanted to be of help to her. I was happy she loved it. As I grew up, it became a habit.”

Akko fumbles with a few keys, making a slight mistake. She hopes her neighbor can forgive her for being so distracted at the moment, and right after they’d finally met too.

“Thank you, Miss-”

“Akko is fine.”

“Thank you, Akko. You’re playing has, in truth, kept me motivated and less lonely.”

Akko remembers having promised before their parting to their respective units that she would keep playing with her until she moves out.

Akko blushes upon remembering the stunning smile she was offered afterwards.

Her neighbor had been camera shy and so Akko didn’t get the opportunity for a picture. She hopes for the best in the future. She’ll try again if ever the lovely lady was ready.

They have time, anyway.

They do.

[Day 20, folks! Akko here, writing another video caption entry, Diary, thing... haha. The song playing right now in the video is gorgeous right? It’s... her favorite song. It’s called, ‘In case you don’t live forever’. She said it keeps her loser to her mother. It keeps her in her heart.

She plays so beautifully...

She’s just as beautiful. She’s amazing.

She’s... a special soul.

I feel goosebumps.

I’m glad. For her. Her music doesn’t sound as sorrowful as when I first heard it. It’s still every bit as emotional, though. I could cry. Really, I could...

...I’m so happy she’s healing.

It’s a process, but... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for her.

I’ll be here for you,

“Diana.”]

//-//-//-//-//

There are times when Akko thinks she’d like to get to know her neighbor more, a little more chatting, a few more minutes talking.

However, it always seems as though there’s this unspoken rule. This... ‘don’t-get-too-close’, ‘don’t-ask-more-than-you-should’. It’s like a boundary that keeps Akko from learning more, discovering more.

Neither of them purposely meet-up outside their closed doors either, this lockdown and what-not all up in their face.

They see each other around the building sometimes, wave a hand, shake a plastic bag of groceries, but building protocols don’t really allow loitering in the halls, and Akko feels she’d be crossing a line in inviting the girl over, and she doesn’t see herself getting invited instead either.

Despite this longing, she isn’t all too dissatisfied with the current standing of their relationship. Peculiar as it may be, she rather likes this.

A relationship built on a communication based on raw emotion delivered through their music.

If Akko ponders it deeply, it’s quite an intimate relationship, what they have. Thoughts and feelings in their purest form- unspoken, but not hidden.

She might not know too much about Diana. She may not know much of her past, or even her present, or general objective facts about the woman.

But what Akko does feel she knows is Diana’s heart.

And Akko knows its utterly beautiful.

//-//-//-//-//

Moonlight Sonata has never felt so sad to her; its sounds reflecting something they both felt, Akko believed.

Akko feels her heart clench and ache in her chest, her face a little hot and her palms sweating.

Only a week left before the clock strikes twelve and the magic is broken.

Diana is finally moving out.

It is... their final duet.

How unfortunate.

Akko sighs, thinking about the pain she’ll feel later as she edits this portion of the video. Compared to the happy tones and build ups of all the others, this... is something she doesn’t know if she can do.

Maybe she can ask Amanda for a favor this time around?

She’s actually shown some of her closest friends her video logs, and they all had sent kind messages to Akko’s new friend, who in turn, felt worlds and worlds happier.

Akko feels happy as well.

Diana’s joy is contagious. It shows through her expressive music that gives away the feelings her face doesn’t show.

Speaking of Diana’s face... she still hasn’t agreed on showing her face on camera. Akko supposes it’s still too early. Maybe before she leaves? Oh Akko hopes so. She wants to have something to look at physically to remember Diana by. Not that she’d ever forget.

Still, a little memory help never hurt anyone.

Diana’s turn comes in smoothly through the wall, Akko unable to keep her smile from forming.

She’s going to miss this. The playing; the sometimes awkward, but unconventionally amazing duets; the letters shoved underneath door; and the very rare hallway meet-up where Akko can only smile at Diana as they exchange a literal word or two.

Akko reminisces.

The past... two months now, have been amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Akko wonders what the future has in store for them both after they part.

Maybe they could meet again. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

Akko knows she’ll keep playing still. At the same time, on a weekend, as the sunsets. For Diana. She’s promised she’ll keep making the video logs. She’ll send them over to her so that they can still keep this music alive in some way.

//-//-//-//-//

[Day 62.

Hi, Diana. It’s me, Akko.

I... wrote you a song...? Or well, I started to... I’m not quite done yet, hihi. Got a little too ambitious and all... thought I could add some other instruments besides our- the piano... aha..haha...

When you first told me your story, I started picturing it out. A life dyed with all the colors of the spectrum. From the vivids to the grays, it was such a lovely imagery in my minds eye. A painting I could not get out of my head.

And so this song is... yeah. That.

A story.

A story about this wonderful twenty-five-year-old woman who so happened to move next door to this uninspired artist. She’d lost her mother to a stupid virus, and she’d never known her father. Her house got sold, and she had only one distant relative she knew of left.

She spends her days along in a box of white walls and empty silence. That is, until the sun decides to rest for the day, and it sends its golden rays of energy to the girl and to her piano that she thought to be her sole companion in this tragedy.

She plays her favorite songs, filling the emptiness with her own emotions; making the intangible manifest itself and cause a dumb girl next door to one day slip a scratch of paper underneath her door, asking for a song.

A note with a request... and with a message that she’d heard her feelings- her loneliness; and that she’d never let her be alone anymore.

And that’s how they became friends, huh, Diana?

Two pianos, Two people, and a wall that keeps them apart.

They didn’t know who was playing on the other side. But did it matter?

In this dreary, blackened time of the world,

‘You can be the light of somebody else’ darkness, so keep shining.’.

Dear Diana,

In case my playing isn’t as emotionally expressive as yours, I hope you at least know this now. Through this video.

That you were, and are... my light.

-Akko.

P.S. I hope I finish the song and give it to you before you leave.]

//-//-//-//-//

She feels herself hyperventilating, her vision bleary. She can barely stand. She feels like vomiting, and dying, and screaming all at once.

Her anxieties run rampant all over the room.

If this keeps up, she may as well hurt herself beyond help.

She trudges over to the one thing that could ground her at the moment.

The piano.

Her hands are shaky as they do multiple attempts to turn on the keyboard, hitting the wrong buttons and turning the volume knob up too loud that when Akko accidentally leans against the keyboard, hand pressing down on many keys, the sound almost blows up her eardrums.

She curses, smashing a hand against those same keys, the cluster of notes echoing through her apartment walls.

“aaaaAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

She allows the scream to tear out of her throat; emotions, wild horses finally released into the open.

“AGH! AGGHHHH!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH”

She falls face first onto the keys, now ignoring the loudness of their noise, momentarily thinking it would be better to allow her ears to bleed out so she’d never hear a thing again.

She wants something, anything, to drown out the pain she feels right now.

...

She sobs against the keys, head lifting as she apologizes to her piano, wiping off the tears that are quickly replaced by fresh ones.

Akko gives up and plays a note. Then two.

Then she’s playing ‘you’ll be in my heart’ and she’s crying more.

She lets herself cry as she plays.

Today, she was supposed to see Diana off. She had left a final note the day before yesterday, asking if she could do so. Help Diana carry her things, maybe swap numbers, and just... maybe keep this connection going for years to come.

Last night, she’d said good night at Diana’s door.

The girl gave her the sweetest smile, an almost unnoticeable blush on her features.

Oh, but Akko noticed anyway.

Of course, she would. With how shamelessly she stared at Diana at that moment.

Diana laughed, stepping closer and patted Akko on the cheek- kissed her there- before turning about to shut the door, along with the lights Akko saw go off from underneath it.

She was excited for the morning.

But when morning came... Diana was gone.

Akko had been thrown into confusion and a frantic state that she’d bolted all around, searching for signs or a left behind message.

Nothing.

She had then run down to ask the land lady, and that’s where she’d found out.

The heart disease Diana’s mother had was hereditary.

Diana had had an attack, and with an emergency alerting device, she’d been able to contact her only family, and had been taken to the hospital.

That was good.

That gave Akko relief and joy.

...so why is she despairing now?

...She didn’t know.

No, not the reason for her despair. She knows that.

The reason she was in this state is because she didn’t know.

She didn’t know what had happened.

She didn’t know Diana had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

She didn’t know where she was, or where whoever took her.

She didn’t know that Diana had that heart disease too.

She didn’t know because she never got to ask.

She never got to learn more, know more.

... Did she not know Diana then?

Her mind taunts her, her heart hurts her.

She doesn’t know a lot about Diana. Not as much as she thinks.

That’s what they tell her.

For all the emotions they’d exchanged through music, that was the extent of it. Had Akko been too presumptuous in thinking she’d known Diana so deeply because of what they’d shared?

When in reality she may as well be a random stranger playing her show tunes and disturbing her neighbors.

Akko almost believes it.

But no... no. She can’t do that. She can’t assume those things. Not about their connection. Not about Diana.

Because Diana had told her once upon a song that she- that Akko had been her light. Her comfort. Akko believes in Diana. So she believes these feelings as well.

Yet these feelings of her own were so conflicting, so daunting. They battle in her mind, questioning and justifying every little thing. All things relating to Diana. Diana and... Diana.

Akko coughs out a few more sobs, throat incredibly dry.

She stops playing for a moment, dragging herself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then she goes back to the piano.

She... doesn’t feel like playing again.

What should she play anyway?

What song does she want to play? What song... Song... Song... Diana... What was Diana’s favorite song?

Diana? Song? A song for Diana? A song about-

Akko falls off her piano bench as she scrambles for her coffee table, sighing in relief as the papers for her composition are still there.

With shaky hands, she takes the sheets and a pencil and brings them over to the piano.

And she writes a few notes, then a few bars.

Diana.

Who is Diana.

What does Akko not know about her. Her other struggles? Her sickness? Her trials and her fears? Her past?

That melody... sounded too sad for a parting gift. Akko doesn’t want Diana to feel more sorrow when she moves out...

Then....

What does Akko know? About Diana?

“Diana is...”

Expressive, emotional.

Diana is intelligent, an intellectual.

Diana is sincere and sweet.

Diana is talented and tasteful in music.

Diana is... her neighbor, her... new friend,

....Akko’s... what?

What was she to Akko?

“You are my light.”

-Akko ends up writing as a title.

But that’s a little too embarrassing to give to someone who was just your neighbor and a new friend... right?

And maybe it didn’t exactly represent the whole thing Akko had written.

So she erases it, biting her pencil as she tries to come up with a new name, a new caption for this creation.

What could it be. That describes Diana in her entirety; her life, her struggles, her joys.

Who is she? Who is Akko’s neighbor?

Akko scratches her head in frustration, wracking her brains even more.

With a sigh, she replies to herself aloud, the simplest, somewhat plain, and stupidly obvious answer.

“Well, she’s Diana.”

And it clicks.

That she is.

She is Diana.

And Akko throws on a jacket, a mask, and some shoes and thinks no more.

//-//-//-//-//

[Dear Diana,

I know very little about you

But you’ve changed my life.

Really you have.

You gave me back my passion, and a little bit more of that even. Maybe aroused a new passion within me.

I’d say, “You’ll be in my heart”, but that sounds too much of a farewell, to be honest.

And I’d rather not say goodbye just yet.

Not like this.

Music... Is a powerful thing. Despite the rampaging emotions I’d felt as I found out what had happened to you today, I- I kept playing. It grounded me. It helped me.

Diana, you once told me I was your light.

And you know I’ve told you already. That you’ve been MINE.

Diana. This video might look incredibly shaky and chaotic.

But please forgive me for that, and know that it is because I’m running with all my might to find out where you are. I got a hint for the hospital you might have been taken too.

It kinda seems like I’m a stalker now, huh?

I’m sorry. I just... I-

I can’t say goodbye to you....

Not just yet...

I still... have a song for you.

So... wait for me?”]

//-//-//-//-//

Eyes blink, bright white melting into color. They scan the room, looking for hints to identify her location.

Her body aches, her chest hurts. Her throat is parched. Her head is throbbing.

What is that annoying beeping sound-

Ah. Of course.

The hospital.

Again.

She hates it. She hates the smell of antiseptic and sterile sheets. She hates the taste of badly prepared hospital meals, and too-dry food.

The water has this strange quality to it when you’re in the hospital.

She knows this well.

She hates that she does.

She sighs, sinking into her pillows. At least those are comfortable.

Ugh.

What bad timing, really. For an attack.

She was supposed to move out today. She was supposed to meet with her aunt- who actually has probably met up with her by now, seeing as Diana is in a hospital and her usual alert device seems to be charging within reach beside her. Also she sees Daryl’s purse on the seat.

Maybe the woman had gone out temporarily for something important.

That was fine.

It just meant Diana was left alone again. If only for a short while.

...Alone, huh.

These past two months, she hadn’t been that.

All because of one girl, one Atsuko Kagari that she’d met by chance through a piano and through a wall. The sound quite literally carrying over through a wall.

Diana can’t believe she used to be so skeptical of thin-walled living spaces, wondering how people kept their privacy.

Now, however, she feels blessed that that was the case.

Else she’d never have met... her light.

That’s right.

When everything, her vision, her hopes, her heart had steadily been dying out, through her dim came a glow. That glow was the connection she’d found through her neighbor across a wall.

It had surprised her the first time she realized someone was playing alongside her one sunset session, months ago. She would have thought it creepy had the person’s music been any less captivating.

There were just so many colors in the music, there was just so much warmth. It sounded a little rough, a few hinges rusty at first; but it came along after a few pseudo duets, and then Diana had found these duets to be a staple in her life.

Then she met Akko for the first time, and more warmth and color came into her life.

Diana found herself enjoying the musical conversations they had, intrigued by thoughts that they were actually able to communicate in that way and understand one another to that extent, no words attached.

And she enjoyed these nonverbal bonding moments.

But when they actually wrote to one another, or when they’d have their short greetings when they’d meet up in the hall, Diana found herself wanting to draw even closer, to get to know Akko even more.

And when Akko asked if she could do the same, Diana had found it so easy to open up.

She’d loved to know even more about the girl.

But how would she do it now?

They didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers, and Diana was probably moving as soon as she left the hospital. Her things were already being shipped to her new home, after all. There wasn’t much reason to return to her apartment, really.

“Idiot. Stupid, Diana. Not asking her sooner. What are you supposed to do no-”

Two knocks on her door.

It doesn’t open right away. It doesn’t seem to open at all.

Diana deduces it’s not a doctor or nurse then. And it might not be Daryl either because the woman would have already called the attending nurse to open the door already.

So then, who could it be?

Diana tries not to let her mind wander and get her hopes up, because there is no way- just no way- it’s who she hopes it will be.

The door opens, and her breath is unexpectedly bated- and she releases it, seeing it’s just the janitor.

Trying not to let disappointment leak into her tone, she greets him a good mor-

“I’m glad... I was right.... hah... hah... You’re here... Diana.”

And Diana really shouldn’t just assume things such as being wrong, and that maybe her neighbor was a creep two months back.

Because now her neighbor, all frazzled, sweaty, and out of breath, is right there in front of her, a bunch of papers crumpled in one hand as the other is held over her heart, trying to calm herself.

“You... hah... didn’t let m-me... Sa-ha-y goodbye... so... you’re not allowed... to leave me waiting in silence and never respond...” Akko huffs. “There’s no more wall preventing you from using words now.”

Her breathing finally slows, and she manages to look up.

“I still have a song for you, after all.”

Diana doesn’t realize, nor does she feel the tears flowing down her face.

Akko doesn’t either.

“L-Let me know what you think... It’s my first song and all...” She becomes this shy blushing school girl as she approaches Diana’s bedside, awkwardly handing over the worn pieces of paper, all wrinkled up from whatever adventure Akko had been on prior to arriving here. “... then maybe we could play a duet again or something...”

She mumbles it so quietly Diana almost didn’t catch it.

She smiles.

She doesn’t think about the reality that was supposed to occur today had she not been taken to the hospital.

Virtual duets aren’t really her thing. She much prefers hearing sound in person, in real-time. She prefers the ability to adapt and adjust to play alongside someone; to feel expression and emotion first hand; to experience a duet in full.

So it’s a simple reply that she has ready, along with a smile on her face as she takes Akko’s hand in hers.

“I’d love that.”

//-//-//-//-//

Diana has told her many times that it’s thanks to her that she was able to recover as quickly as she did, and be out of the hospital in only a week.

Akko sheepishly denies that every time.

They’re both just glad things seem to settle to be alright now.

Diana leans her head against Akko’s shoulder as they share a pair of earphones, listening to the composition play on the latter’s laptop.

“I love it.”

“I know. You’ve told me that the past 4 months, everyday.”

“And I will continue to.”

Akko tries her best to hide the smile that had grown on her face, but it’s impossible. It comes out in laughs and a few soft tears, and she rubs her head against Diana’s.

“You have all the time to, it seems.”

“Yes, and I won’t waste it.” Diana quips, turning her head up to look at Akko with the tenderest of smiles. “Care to play?”

Akko simply smiles, before wrapping Diana up in a hug so deep, and warm, and tender. Without a word, she stands them both up, walking them over to two keyboards now positioned side-by-side.

They take seat. With eyes meeting, and a small nod, they begin.

They don’t need words to figure out the rhythm they’ll fall into, or what they should do, or who plays what part for today.

Akko’s colors seep out, her warmth embedded in her music. Diana’s expressive emotions tell Akko all she needs to know, and they play in harmony.

Together, they tell a story.

A story that began with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

A story about its music and what lay beyond a wall.

A story once called, “Diana”.

Now,

“Diana and Akko”.

A/N: .... ��Hrmmm... I didn’t like how i ended it, tbh,,, hahaha. I just... lost my thought process now. I’m tired and lost.

Anyway.

Based off this story

The follow-up to this won’t be now, or anytime too soon. Or tbh, I could just end it like this. But there’s this ache in my heart that wants to know what happens next as well. Or more things such as how Diana ended up staying. But well,

...who knows.

Bye for now.

~Shintori Khazumi

#diakko #dianakko #lwa #Little Witch Academia #diana bday fic #sorry it's sloppy #fanfic #diana cavendish #kagari atsuko

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Text

darling let me trace the lines

a flower shop fic for my beautiful @elisela <3

read on ao3

I. Birth Month Flowers

The bell above the shop door rings, but Eddie ignores it in favor of putting the finishing touches on the wedding arrangement he’s working on. There’s only one person who’d come in after closing anyway, and he’ll make his way to the back room soon enough.

He smiles as he feels strong arms wrap around his waist from behind and a chin come to rest on his shoulder. He puts the last of the peonies in place before turning around to greet Buck properly.

“Hi,” he says, arms coming around Buck in return. Buck’s smile gets bright and Eddie melts, like he always does.

“Hi,” Buck whispers, leaning in to kiss Eddie softly, sweetly. “Happy anniversary.”

If anyone had told Eddie a year ago that this is where he’d end up — happier than he’s ever been with the best man he’s ever met, business going better and better each day, Chris continuing to shine — he’s not sure he would have believed them. He would’ve kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for every good thing to be met with something even worse, for the inevitability of sinking back into the darkness that constantly followed him.

But now, he has Buck and Chris and the rest of their little makeshift family to pull him out and remind him that he gets to keep these good things, that he deserves them. He still has days where that’s hard to believe, where everything goes a little grey, but then he’ll hear Chris’ laugh ring through the shop or see Buck smile, and colors come seeping back in again.

He kisses Buck one more time before stepping back to get a proper look at him. The first word that comes to mind is mouthwatering — dress pants cut just right, dark blue button down making his eyes even brighter. He looks like he just stepped out of a J. Crew catalogue, and it takes every ounce of willpower Eddie can muster to not drag him upstairs right now and forget about their dinner reservations.

There’s one glaring problem though, and Eddie reaches forward to undo the buttons at Buck’s wrist to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Buck tries to pull away, but Eddie’s grip is firm.

“Eddie, come on, this is a nice place, they won’t even let me in the door if they see all my ink.”

“Well, it’s my anniversary, and I want to see it. If my very Catholic, ‘your body is a temple’ abuela can accept your tattoos, the maître d' at this restaurant can too.”

He gets both sleeves rolled up to Buck’s elbows and takes a minute to admire the ink underneath. They’re all more than familiar now, and he’s spent hours asking Buck about each one, like Chris did when they first met. He likes knowing these things about Buck, the little bits that are so obvious on his arms but have meanings that go much deeper. It’s a privilege, a blessing really, and it’s not something that he’ll ever take for granted.

Buck’s blushing by the time he’s done, and Eddie kisses his nose to get a laugh out of him.

“Okay, okay, go get dressed, we’re gonna be late,” Buck says, shoving Eddie towards the stairs. Eddie does as he’s told, quickly changing and fixing his hair, and he feels himself smile as Buck’s jaw drops when he comes back downstairs.

He knows he looks good — both the lady at the store and Sophia on FaceTime said that maroon was definitely his color — but it’s nice that the main person he’s trying to impress agrees too.

“You look— damn, babe, are you sure we have to go to dinner?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie closer by his belt loops and kissing him deep.

Eddie lets him, just for a minute, before pulling away, ignoring Buck’s groan as he grabs his hand and pulls him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner goes by without incident (minus a brief makeout session in the bathroom between courses) and is overall perfect. Eddie is full of food and flushed from wine and swinging his and Buck’s clasped hands back and forth as they walk back to his apartment because he’s so happy he doesn’t know what else to do. The smile Buck shoots his way only makes that happiness grow.

The nerves settle in a bit once they finally get upstairs. “So, I know we didn’t talk about gifts or anything,” he says, pulling Buck towards the couch to sit down. “But I had a vague idea, and Chris wanted to help, and one thing led to another so...I do have something for you.”

Buck looks almost relieved. “Good, because I kinda have something for you too.”

Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes — of course they did this with no planning — before going to his bedroom to grab the gift.

“Close your eyes!” he yells before walking back in. He gently places the gift in Buck’s lap and sits back down beside him.

“Okay, open.”

Buck does and looks down, eyes widening as he does. He traces a finger reverently over the leather cover of the book in front of him, stopping as he gets to the edge of the picture laid in the middle — the two of them and Chris at the beach, matching sunglasses and big smiles. It was their first “family day” after they got together, and the first time Eddie knew, with complete certainty, that this was all he wanted — all he needed — for the rest of his life.

“These are all from the past year,” he says as Buck starts flipping through, like that wasn’t obvious. But he’s nervous and Buck hasn’t said anything so he’s just...riffing. “Even Abuela had some that I didn’t know about. Chris added all the drawings, the ones you two have been working on, and he suggested the pressed flowers because I was teaching him how to press them anyway. It’s mostly jasmine because I know those are your favorite, and they mean ‘sweet love’ so it...fit.” Buck’s still quiet, slowly flipping through the pages. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Buck says, voice rough. When he finally looks at Eddie, his eyes are shining. “I just can’t believe it’s only been a year and we’ve done all this.”

“There’s blank pages too,” Eddie says, tapping the back of the book. “For when we need them.” Not if we need them, because Eddie doesn’t feel presumptuous in thinking — knowing — that they’ll need those blank pages, and probably a couple thousand more.

Buck smiles and reaches up, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “I love it. I love you. Thank you.” He kisses him once, twice, three times before closing the book and setting it on the coffee table.

“My turn?” Eddie asks. Buck nods and stands up, smile gone and replaced with a nervous grimace.

“So, first things first, I meant to talk to you about this before it happened,” Buck says. “But then I told Chim and Maddie about it, and they said it would be better as a surprise, and they’re very persuasive when they want to be, and she didn’t have a lot of time last week, so I—”

“Buck,” Eddie says, standing up too. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Buck’s eyes flit back and forth between his for a minute before he nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh, it’s that kind of present?”

Buck just laughs and rolls his eyes. He finishes unbuttoning and shrugs his shirt off, revealing his bare chest and more tattoos that Eddie’s become intimately familiar with over the past year. He’s traced each of them with his fingers and his tongue, knows their stories, could probably draw them from memory if someone asked him to.

Except one.

It’s healed but still fresh, stark on Buck’s skin compared to some of the older, faded ones. The design is simple but clear, and obviously Maddie’s work: a marigold and a daisy, crossed at the stems, tied together in a perfect bow by a piece of twine. And it’s right over Buck’s heart, in a spot Eddie knows has been reserved for something truly special.

“It’s beautiful,” Eddie says, “but how is it for me?”

“Come on, Eddie, you know what flowers mean better than anyone.”

“Sure, and I know marigolds are for pain and grief and daisies are for innocence. But what does that have to do with us? Unless you mean—”

He loses his breath a little because it clicks. Tears sting his eyes as he looks up at Buck, because he knows what he thinks it means, what he wants it to mean, but he wants to hear Buck say it too.

Buck smiles, soft and beautiful. “A marigold for an October birthday, like yours, and a daisy for an April birthday, like Chris’. The bow is actually a rose vine for a June birthday.”

“Like yours,” Eddie whispers.

Buck nods, but he quickly looks nervous again. “I know it’s kind of a lot, and maybe it’s assuming too much, but you guys are it for me. Really, really it. This is the best way I could show you that.”

Eddie reaches a hand up, traces gently over a petal, feels Buck’s heart thumping underneath it. Underneath them. A symbol of their family, so solidly formed that Buck wanted it to be a permanent part of him, woven into the tapestry of the stories he paints on his skin.

Eddie’s at a loss for words — so many big things he wants to say, but they’re all getting tangled in his brain, mixed with the sheer awe that this is even happening. Buck must take it as a bad sign though, because his face falls a bit and he starts looking around the room at anywhere but Eddie.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” he says, trying to grab for his shirt on the floor. “Like I said, I should’ve told you first—”

Eddie grabs Buck’s face and pulls him into a searing kiss. He’s getting better with words, with communicating his thoughts and talking through what he’s feeling, but sometimes actions still serve him much better. He does his best to pour the tangle of love and devotion and thoughts of forever into the kiss, and if his enthusiastic response is any indication, Buck seems to pick up on everything just fine.

They come up for air eventually, but Eddie keeps holding on to Buck, his thumbs gently tracing the blush on his cheeks. He just looks, takes this moment in, floored by the fact that even when he thinks things can’t get better, that he’s used up all his good fortune and reached the peak of whatever happiness he’s been allowed, Buck comes in and blows the roof clean off.

“You’re it for us too,” he says softly, earnestly. Buck’s smile is big and bright, and Eddie falls in love all over again.

II. Matching Rings

“You know you’re gonna have to get this redone, like, every year, right?”

Buck shoves Chim’s shoulder, almost knocking the ink out of his hands in the process. “You said you’d give us anything we wanted as a wedding present. And you’re only doing mine, so it’s like half a present. Be grateful we didn’t ask for money, too.”

Chim holds his hands up placatingly and finishes loading his machine. It’s just the three of them on the floor, Maddie in the back office doing something with accounting. The sun is going down, lighting the whole room up with soft, golden light. It hits Buck just right too where he’s laid back in Chimney’s chair, making his skin glow in all the places it peaks out beneath the ink. His hair is soft and loose and his smile is easy, and Eddie feels his heart pick up, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it.

Eddie can’t believe he has to wait a week to marry this man. He’d do it right here, right now if he could. But it’s only seven days, and today they’re doing something just as permanent, just as lasting as they are.

This wasn’t part of the original plan. Everything else was set for the wedding — the venue, the food, the cake, the suits, everything, except the rings. They’d spent three separate weekends going to stores all around Los Angeles, scouring Etsy shops, talking to designers, and still nothing felt right. Nothing they saw felt true to either of them, as a couple or as individuals, and it was (on top of the general stress of planning a wedding) starting to get to Eddie.

“Screw it,” he’d said after another two hours of searching, closing out of another store’s website. “This is so stupid. The rings are the least important part of this, why is it so hard to find good ones?”

Buck pats his shoulder and sets down a mug of tea in front of him before sitting down next to him. “We could just get cheap ones for the actual wedding and keep looking after. Or skip the rings altogether?”

“No, I still want them,” Eddie said. “I just want them to be special. To be us. We’re going to be wearing them for the rest of our lives, we should like them.”

Buck nodded, tapping the side of his own mug, lost in thought. Eddie tried to search some more, typing every combination of “male wedding ring not ugly” in Google and hoping something stuck, until Buck suddenly grabbed his wrist, his eyes bright.

“What if we do tattoos instead.”

“Ring tattoos? Is that even a thing?” He liked to think he’d absorbed a fair amount of tattoo knowledge in all his years of knowing Buck, but he can’t remember a time anyone ever came into the shop for something like that.

Buck nodded. “They’re more popular than they used to be. And we could design them ourselves. They’ll need touch ups, but what’s more permanent than ink being shoved into a layer of your skin?”

He was right. Tattoos meant a lot to the both of them — what better way to truly bond them for life? Eddie smiled back, kissing Buck’s cheek. “You’re a genius.”

So now, three weeks later, design finalized and on their only free evening for the next seven days, Chim starts up his machine and starts on Buck’s left hand.

It’s a simple design — black, interwoven strands, tied together by each other’s initials on the palm side. To Eddie, the strands look like a ribbon of DNA, which makes perfect sense for how much Buck is a part of him, heart and soul and everywhere else in between. He’s intrinsic to Eddie’s very being at this point, and now everyone else will get to see it too, will know from just a glance that he is happily, permanently, taken.

He feels Buck snake his free hand into his own, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. He looks up, worried, but Buck seems fine, easy smile still on his face, brighter still now that it’s night.

“You okay?”

Buck nods. “Doesn’t hurt. Just like holding your hand.”

Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes, but squeezes his hand back just as gently.

Chim takes his time, meticulous as always, but he’s still done fairly quickly. He wraps Buck’s finger and cleans up his station before heading to the back to find Maddie, yelling “Congrats you two, don’t touch any of my stuff” over his shoulder as he goes. Buck just rolls his eyes before standing — his hand still clasped in Eddie’s — and leading them over to his own station. Eddie gets comfortable in the chair while Buck gets everything ready, and while he tries to take in the shop around him, noting the new artwork and paint job that Maddie just finished last weekend, his eyes always drift back to Buck, hands moving sure and quick as he cleans and fills his machine. Buck finishes up and catches him (though he wasn’t really trying to hide), smiling softly as he sits down in front of Eddie and takes his hand. The machine buzzes to life, and Eddie lets out a hiss as it touches his finger.

“Remember the last time you were here?” Buck asks, eyes trained on his work.

Of course Eddie does — he couldn’t stop staring at Buck that time either, no matter how hard he tried. He also remembers being scared, not of the tattoo, but of his growing feelings for Buck, how they were getting harder and harder to ignore but he still hadn’t felt like he deserved Buck or the pure light and joy he’s made up of.

Some days he still doesn’t, even after three years together and a week away from getting married.

But then Buck will come into the shop and launch into a story about a terrible client he just had, or come through the back door and plop down next to Chris to help with homework or an art project, or just look at Eddie with his steady, sure gaze, press a kiss to his cheek, and tell him he loves him like it’s the only thing he knows for certain. And Eddie will remember how well Buck fits into their lives, how easy it is to love him and be loved by him, and those doubts wash away as quickly as they came.

Buck shows him more love every day than any person should be capable of showing. Eddie can’t wait to spend the rest of his life giving it right back.

“Done!” Buck says. Eddie looks down at his hand and feels a beautiful warmth spread through him that threatens to bubble over in a laugh or tears or maybe both. Buck’s smiling too as he wraps Eddie’s finger and places a gentle kiss to the knuckle right below the ink, the promises of forever they’ve made to each other now permanent on them for the whole world to see

“So, a touch up every year huh?” Eddie asks as they leave the shop and head back to the apartment. Buck throws an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him closer as the cool night breeze whirls around them.

“Think of it like a permanently scheduled vow renewal,” Buck says, and Eddie does, his mind suddenly fast forwarding to see them 10, 20, 30 years down the line, renewing their commitment to each other year after year within the now sacred walls of Armageddon, older and greyer but still just in love as they are right now, if not more. It makes Eddie feel that warmth all over again, coursing through him until a laugh does bubble out of him as he presses a kiss under Buck’s jaw. He stops them walking and pulls Buck closer, kissing him for real — slowly, thoroughly, tangling their hands together and gently tracing over Buck’s ring finger, excited beyond words for the start of the rest of their lives together.

III. Ursa Major and Minor

Chris is being weird.

Which isn’t actually unusual — he’s almost 18, and teenagers are always a little weird about certain things. Eddie’s still not allowed to look in the bottom drawer of Chris’ nightstand, and at this point, he probably doesn’t want to.

But still. He’s being weird. And for that matter, so is Buck.

He can tell they’re hiding something — it feels like every time he comes into the back room, they’re huddled over the table, whispering about something. He tried to look over Chris’ shoulder once to see what he was scribbling in a notebook, but Buck had yanked it away and sat on it before Eddie could get too close. Whenever he tries to ask what’s going on, they just smile at him, the picture of innocence, and start talking about schoolwork or graduation or anything else until Eddie finally moves on.

And he loves it, really, that Chris and Buck have their own little thing at the moment, something that’s just for them. But he’d also really like to know what the hell is going on.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, answering emails about orders after dinner, when Buck and Chris walk in. Buck has that mischievous, self-satisfied glint in his eye that always raises Eddie’s blood pressure a few points, but Chris looks nervous. He’s fidgeting with the notebook in his hands and has the same wide-eyed look he had when he opened every one of his college acceptance letters.

Eddie shuts his laptop and pushes it to the side. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Chris just has a question for you.” Buck nudges him gently with his elbow before sitting down at the table. Chris follows suit, taking the seat across for Eddie, looking nervous still but more determined. He takes a deep breath and finally looks Eddie in the eye.

“So,” he starts. “Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

Eddie nods. “Same day every year.”

Buck snorts and Chris rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Dad. And I know we already have plans, but I wanted to add one more thing for us to do.”

“Sure, buddy. What did you have in mind?”

Chris takes another deep breath and answers quickly on the exhale so it comes out like Iwannageddatattoo. Eddie tilts his head and leans forward. “Come again?”

Another breath. “I want to get a tattoo. Tomorrow. For my birthday.” He flips through the notebook in front of him, landing on a page and sliding it towards Eddie. There’s things scratched out all over the page but the final design is clearly circled — the Big and Little Dippers, each point made of small, hand-drawn asterisks and connected by even lines of dots. It’s clean, simple, and Eddie thinks it looks beautiful (though mostly because Chris put a lot of effort into putting it together).

“They look great, Chris,” he says, “and you technically won’t need my permission to get it tomorrow, but I’m sure I can sway someone at Armageddon to get you an appointment.”

Buck smiles and nods. “Already on the schedule. But there’s something else Chris wanted to ask.” He looks pointedly at Chris, who rolls his eyes again and nods.

“So I want to get this one,” he says, reaching across the table and pointing at the Little Dipper. “And I thought, if you want— you don’t have to, but—” he moves his hand to the Big Dipper. “I was wondering if you would get this one with me?”

Eddie could cry. He very well might with how fast he feels his eyes welling up. He and Chris have always been close — something he’s been thankful for every day of his son’s teenage years — but this is something else entirely. He got his first tattoo out of spite towards his parents, and now Chris wants to get one with him?

He’s quiet for too long, because Chris looks even more nervous. He clears his throat and reaches across the table to take Chris’ hand in his. “I’d love to. If you’re sure. This is a pretty permanent decision.”

Chris smiles. “They’re our stars. I want us to get them together.”

Now Eddie’s definitely going to cry. He remembers summer nights in El Paso after Shannon had left — when neither of them could sleep, so they snuggled in the hammock in their backyard instead and stared up at the stars. He didn’t know many constellations, but there were two that he could always find.

“They look like spoons,” Chris had said once, still small enough to fit snuggly to Eddie’s side.

“They do,” Eddie said. “But they’re not just spoons, they’re part of bigger pictures — Ursa Major and Minor, Big Bear and Little Bear.”

“Like a dad and a baby?” Chris asked. Eddie’s heart clenched — because he’d burrowed impossibly closer when he asked that, because he hadn’t asked about a mom, because he loves this kid so much he’d grab every star in the sky for him if he wanted them — and he ran his fingers through soft curls, trying to stay in the moment for as long as he can.

“That’s right,” he said, voice rougher than he wanted. “They’re always together, always protecting each other. Just like you and me.”

“Forever?” Chris asked as he placed his hand in Eddie’s.

Eddie swallowed, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris’ head and clasping their hands together. “Forever and ever.”

He meant it — he still means it — but the fact that Chris kept that promise with him too all these years, turned it into something precious, something worth immortalizing, it makes Eddie wish he could go back in time and tell his younger self that everything would be fine. That whatever doubts he had swirling in his head while laying in that hammock were for nothing — that he was and is a good father, who raised the best kid in the world to be full of joy and happiness and love, just like he promised himself he would the minute Chris was born.

He laughs as he feels tears fall for real, and Chris laughs wetly too, coming over to him and hugging him tight around the neck. Eddie holds on just as hard, reaching down to grasp Buck’s hand too when he feels him squeeze his knee.

He hopes those lucky stars are listening when he sends up a thank you for giving him this family.

“I love you, Dad,” Chris says.

Eddie untangles them enough to take Chris’ face in his hands, get a good look at his son — his beautiful, perfect boy, who’s becoming a better man than Eddie could’ve ever hoped for.

“I love you too, kid. Forever and ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris goes first the next day, brave face on until Buck starts up the machine and brings it to the inside of his bicep.

He grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes hard. Eddie doesn’t let it go.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #the flower shop #ficcery #it's finally a series!!#HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELI ILYSM I COULD CRY

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bvidzsoo · 4 years ago

Text

Poison (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: violence, swearing, blood

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x female reader

Word count: 18, 095

Summary: It seemed like Kim Mingyu’s words were true, once you enter this life style, you can’t just end it. You are forever in the system, forever being watched, even if you were an innocent by-stander. It seems like no matter how much you want to end things with Kim Mingyu, he just keeps pulling you in more and more danger. After all, he’s made it very clear, he wants you.

A/N: Oh my God! It’s finally here! Can you believe it?! This beautiful piece of art has been sitting in my drafts half finished for so long that I’m about to cry that’s how happy I am that I finished it. I really hope you will enjoy it and don’t be shy, leave your feedback! I have to say that my Seventeen phase (not me calling it a phase =))) is back real bad this time, so I don’t want to give you false hope, but damn, I have idea for a third part. I’m not saying a third part is coming, but it could come at some point if my writer’s block goes away. Anyways, I’ve said too much already, have fun reading!

The days after my kidnapping were quiet and uneventful. I would lie if I said I didn’t double check my apartment before leaving it and when arriving at home or checking if I was being followed around. If they kidnapped me so easily in broad daylight, I don’t even want to imagine what other horrific things they could do. And thanks to me being the ever observant person, it didn’t take me long to realize that, in fact, I was being followed around every day. By none other than...Kim Mingyu. Yes, he was everywhere I went. At late evening in the supermarket when I forgot I had no porridge for breakfast and needed it as fast as possible, on a cold morning when I went out for a run and probably froze my lungs because I was stupid, and then the best part...he just had to be there every day at the bookstore. He never entered, only walked by peeking inside, looking like the creepy dude he is. Irene was quick to pick up on it after the third day he went by our window and I tried to lie to her, persuade her into believing that he probably was a new resident in the neighbourhood and was taking walks but no...she kept saying he looked at me and only me every time he passed by the bookstore. So, I ended up telling her only half of the story, leaving out all the gang related things. She was excited to hear about it and kept telling me to go for it but...that’s not a good idea. I should probably stay away from the gang unless I want to get kidnapped again. Yet, Mingyu’s words would sometimes haunt me late at night when I can’t sleep, echoing in my head. There is no way out once you get involved in something like this, is there?

And yet, my curiosity got the best of me, and one day I couldn’t help it but speak up about it.

“Seungcheol,” I said lowly, turning towards my best friend. He looked up from his notebook, his brows in between a frown and arch.

“I want to meet Seventeen” I said seriously, looking him in the eyes. His eyebrows shot up and he closed his notebook.

“What?” He asked after blinking twice.

“Seventeen” I said again, narrowing my eyes when he just shrugged, “Are you dumb? Don’t play the idiot with me--I will smack you, you know I’m not afraid!”

“What’s a Seventeen though?” He asked, a chuckle leaving his lips. I raised my fist in warning and he scooted backwards, away from my reach.

“Your gang, you idiot!” I snapped after two minutes of silence and of us just staring at each other.

“Oh” He chuckled before he started giggling loudly, making my eyebrows furrow in irritation, “You mean, SVT”

“No, I mean, Seventeen” I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Who told you that? No one calls us Seventeen, Y/N” He started laughing loudly when I huffed and rolled my eyes.

“Kim Mingyu! He told me!” I exclaimed, offended, wanting him to shut up already. Maybe I can threaten Seungcheol with Mingyu and Mingyu with Seungcheol, I have these boys at my knees.

“He’s an idiot, he was playing around with you, Y/N” He chuckled when I rolled my eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious, Seventeen or SVT, I want to meet the guys. Let me know the name of the guy who pointed a gun at your head” I muttered with a glare while gazing out the window.

“You know if I do that there’s no turning back, right?” Seungcheol turned serious as he scooted closer to me.

“I was already kidnapped once...there was no turning back the second I decided to interfere with your business, Cheol” I said as I looked at him, a reassuring smile resting on my lips.

“It’s better for you to not know much, Y/N. When you know more, you’ll be more exposed to the dangers that come with this life” Seungcheol said with a smile and I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Do you think someone would believe me if I said I didn’t know anything? Those guys didn’t and yet I was saying the truth…” Seungcheol hummed while I pouted, glancing down at our notebooks. We were just some stupid kids who went to college to study something so that they can work somewhere later. No one would say Seungcheol was in a gang nor that a gang leader followed me around, life really is full of surprises.

“Besides…” I grinned involuntarily before quickly turning serious, “Mingyu keeps following me around”

“What?” Seungcheol exclaimed, sitting up straight as I raised my head and giggled.

“Yeah, he’s been doing it for weeks now...I think I saw Wonwoo too once…” My eyes narrowed as I thought back to the rainy day when the red car was going way too slow for someone who was supposed to circulate on a busy street. “Idiot, Kim Mingyu is an idiot” Seungcheol shock his head with a tired sigh and I kissed his cheek before going back to studying.

So that conversation led to the current situation aka Seungcheol parking in some underground parking lot of a fancy building. It was in the heart of the city, a rather expensive part of the city.

“Is this the headquarters or something…?” I raised my eyebrows at him when he led the way to the elevator.

“Bingo” He sent a wink while pushing a button, top floor. I hummed, looking back at him with my eyebrows furrowed.

“Aren’t you supposed to have run down warehouses as your headquarters?”

“Isn’t that too shady and too obvious?” Seungcheol chuckled when I shook my head.

“We are high class infractors, baby” He winked at me and I rolled my eyes while pretending to gag, “Besides, I’m pretty sure Minghao would leave the gang the second he had to place foot in such place”

“Why...is he the diva or something?” I asked with a chuckle while trying to associate a face with the name. Vernon told me but it was long ago and I forgot. Wait, his name was Vernon, wasn’t it?

“No, Y/N, Seungkwan is the one and only diva” Seungcheol said with a shake of his head.

“What does he do?” I asked just as the elevator stopped.

“Gun trafficking” I hummed with a shrug as the doors opened, the elevator leading into a big hallway with a single double door. Seungcheol led the way and went towards the control panel where he blocked my view to not see the password. I scoffed as the door dinged open and he sent me a cheeky grin.

The room was different from what I was expecting. The penthouse was definitely turned into an office-like place just darker and...illegal. There was a small lobby where Seungcheol instructed me to take off my long coat before we’d go further inside. The air smelled of lavender and I tried not to show disgust as it was bothering me, I never liked lavender. The floor was all black and the walls a rather dark brown, my heels clicked against the marble floor. To our left there were three doors and a place that looked like a kitchen with a bar. To our right there was an open space which was equipped like a living room and there were stairs that led upstairs to another three rooms. Then to our right, facing our backs was a huge glass door that led inside a huge room. I could see inside, it was full of guys. Probably all from Seventeen as they were lounging around on the couches or playing video games. Seungcheol nudged me with a chuckle and I sent him a glare as he led the way and opened the door for me, it was a sliding door. No one seemed to notice us, suddenly with the open door the room was noisy as people were chatting loudly, some even screaming from one end of the room to the other, while others were laughing loudly. I spotted Wonwoo in the corner of the room, sitting in a chair with a book in his hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. How could he read when everything was so chaotic around him?

Seungcheol cleared his throat rather loudly and suddenly the room went quiet. I felt uncomfortable when all twelve eyes set on me, curious and calculating. I straightened my posture and walked inside the room with Seungcheol right behind me as he closed the door. There was a certain smell in the air, light smoke floating around. It didn’t even take more than a second for me to find whom it was coming from. Mingyu was sitting on a sofa next to Wonwoo’s chair, hands resting behind his head and his legs spread so wide it took up more than half of the sofa, and the sofa looked huge. His eyes raked over my body and a smirk crossed his lips, making me scowl at him. The guys looked from me to Mingyu then back at me with curious looks, making me further uncomfortable.

“How about we stop staring at Y/N like she’s some sort of alien, I’m pretty sure we are making her uncomfortable” Vernon was the first one to speak up with a comforting smile, a beanie covered his light blue hair from the eyes of others.

“She’s only here to meet you guys, so don’t even think of anything else--” Seungcheol’s voice turned threatening and I chuckled amused, “I’m talking to you, Jun”

A taller man with his hair, still, slicked back shrugged amused.

“How are you?” I was startled when an arm was draped around my shoulders. I turned my head only to be met with Vernon’s beautiful face. Wow, he’s truly handsome from up close.

“Had better days...if only they’d stop staring” I pretended to whisper to Vernon, rather loudly of course, making a few guys chuckle.

“Well, seems like you’ve never seen a woman before” I said with a shrug, a blonde haired guy, who I saw already once, starting laughing rather loudly, “My name is Oh Y/N, nice to meet you guys”

“Chwe Hansol Vernon” Vernon beside me extended his hand and I shook it with a chuckle, bowing my head a little.

“Nice to meet you, Vernon...again” I said with a smile and Vernon winked at me playfully.

“That’s too much” Seungcheol muttered from beside me and before I could react, his hands gripped my shoulders and I was turned away from Vernon.

“Let’s do the tour then” He said with a sigh, pushing me towards the first person to our left by my shoulders.

“That’s Seokmin, funny person please don’t hang out with him too much, he might try teaching you how to be cute--I’m being very sarcastic right now, Seokmin” Seungcheol was glaring at the widely smiling boy who didn’t seem to mind my best friend’s words. I chuckled and shook his extended hand.

“Nice to me you, Y/N” He said while blinking rapidly, “I’ll make sure to spend lot’s of quality time with you”

I giggled as Seungcheol whirled me away from Seokmin while grunting nonsense from behind.

“That’s Jihoon but most people call him Woozi” I offered a small smile at the short man, his sharp eyes made him look intimidating. He didn’t extend his hand nor said a thing so I just walked past him, Seungcheol still hanging onto my shoulders.

“That’s Jeonghan” He pointed at a guy with his hair in a man bun, wow he’s really handsome, “And that’s Joshua” The man beside him had a fancy look and his smile was warm.

“So...you two are my stalkers, I see…” I said playfully and both cracked some grins, while Joshua bowed his head. Seungcheol pushed me towards the blond haired guy who was smiling so widely his eyes disappeared.

“He’s--”

“Hoshi, Soonyoung. I’m both, call me whichever you prefer” He said in one breath, taking my hand in his before I could even offer it to him. I shook his hand, his grip rather strong for a skinny looking man like him.

“Hoshi means star in--”

“Japanese!” He exclaimed, interrupting me.

“Yeah” I chuckled a little breathlessly, his energy taking me by surprise. He waved at me cutely when Seungcheol pushed me from behind and we passed by Mingyu, who sent a wink at me and I rolled my eyes at him, and Wonwoo, who I waved at and got a nose scrunched smile back. He was the cutest, I can’t believe he’s part of a gang.

“They are Minghao and Jun, I learned my good Chinese from them,” Seungcheol said proudly and I bowed a little. Minghao’s fur coat was gone but his turtleneck looked just as fancy and Jun bit his lip as his eyes ran over my body. I made eye contact with him and made sure he saw my glare, clearly I didn’t appreciate his openly devouring eyes.

“Junhui” I heard Mingyu call out from behind us, still sitting lazily on the sofa. The four of us glanced back at him and he only raised an eyebrow at Jun, making him roll his eyes with a groan before he turned towards Minghao and muttered something to him in chinese. Seungcheol led me away from the two Chinese men and I turned my head towards him.

“What did he say to Minghao?” I asked quietly and Seungcheol just shrugged.

“Probably just cursed Mingyu, he always does that”

“I’m not Mingyu’s property, can he stop acting like it?” I growled, eyes finding Mingyu who was watching us closely. I sent him a harsher glare than the one Jun got before turning around and towards another blonde haired man. He had full cheeks and he looked like another kind and pleasant person. These guys are so misleading with their appearances.

“Hi, I’m Seungkwan.” He was quick to speak up, his head held rather high and lips forming a tiny pout. He looked funny, I almost burst out laughing.

“Nice to meet you, Seungkwan” I shook his hand with a small smile, “I’ve heard great things about you”

“Really?” His demeanor suddenly changed, his face lit up with excitement before he could contain himself, he still willed his expression to go back to being uncaring.

“Of course” I said with a chuckle as Seungcheol and I walked towards the last person I didn’t know from the room. He was sitting on the floor, playing a video game. I already like this guy, he didn’t even bother looking at me.

“Hi, I’m Chan” He nodded towards me once and I smiled at him.

“Y/N, nice to meet you Chan” He hummed with a small smile as he focused on his game.

“Ah, that’s not right,” Jeonghan said with a sigh, holding the bridge of his nose. I raised my eyebrows at Seungcheol, his chin rested against my shoulder, as a grin spread on his lips.

“Since when are you Chan?” Jeonghan continued and Chan groaned, eyebrows furrowing.

“I told you to stop!” He whined loudly, making Joshua and Jeonghan chuckle to themselves.

“Who’s baby are you, Dino?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked questioningly at Seungcheol.

“He’s the youngest, we call him Dino too but recently he said he doesn’t like the name anymore...I think you can figure now why” I laughed loudly as I placed a hand against my mouth, Jeonghan sent me an appreciative grin.

“I’ll unplug your game--”

“I’m Jeonghan’s baby” Chan was quick to say and Jeonghan hummed, walking over to pat his head.

“He’s so cute I can’t help it” Jeonghan said with a shrug while Chan groaned. I chuckled and Seungcheol, finally, detached himself from me and walked away with Jeonghan, sending a cute wink at me. I sighed and looked around the room, finally everyone went back to what they were doing. Jun and Minghao were in a corner doing something on their phones while talking. Hoshi was listening to music next to Woozi who seemed to be writing. Seokmin joined Chan in playing the video game and Seungkwan was humming to himself while playing on his phone, glancing at me from time to time and sending me judging looks. He looked truly funny. Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua were sitting on bar stools as they quietly spoke between each other. I felt awkward standing in the middle of the room as I contemplated what to do. I could go over to Seungcheol but they seem like they want to be left alone, Mingyu is not even an option, Wonwoo went back to reading and he’s sitting way too close to Mingyu for my liking and--

“So” Vernon. Right, there’s Vernon, who decided to save me from my misery.

“Yes?” I raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled.

“I don’t think you want to stand around here for longer”

“No, I don’t, you are right--but, I’m not sitting next to Mingyu!” I said quickly, rather loudly as Chan and Seokmin chuckled.

“You don’t have to, you see that?” He pointed at the empty spot beside Seungkwan on the black sofa, “That’s my sofa”

“Yours?” I raised my eyebrows at him, “Did you buy it or something?”

“No, but I usually sit there” He said with a shrug and I chuckled.

“You are just a bunch of kids, how are you running a gang?” Seungkwan scoffed while I sat down, placing his phone down.

“We are not kids, I bet we are all older than you” He said sassily and Vernon smirked at him as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“I bet I tower over half of you” I said with a shrug while I sat next to Seungkwan, an eyebrow arched. Seungkwan scoffed and stood up, sent me a pointed glare before he stalked off to Hoshi and Woozi.

“He doesn’t like me much, does he?” I asked turning towards Vernon.

“He’s a funny guy” He said with a chuckle while he shook his head, “He needs time to adjust to you. Besides, he’s only playing tough, he’s not really...trust me, he’s my closest friend”

“You’ve known each other for long?” I asked curiously, eyes examining the room again. When my eyes fell on Mingyu I narrowed them, wishing he’d stop looking at us. He was directly across from us, in the other corner of the room, and he was watching us closely.

“We grew up together, everyone in this room...I’ve known them for over ten years” Vernon said quietly, his voice holding love and warmness. My eyes widened as I looked back at him, shocked. Seungcheol never bothered to tell me anything about them, scared he’d expose me to more danger.

“That’s a really long time” I breathed out as Vernon smiled at me.

“Yeah, how did you meet Seungcheol? He refused to tell me anything when I asked about you…” Vernon said with an embarrassed chuckle and my eyes widened again.

“You...asked about me?” I grinned when he nodded his head shyly. He looked cute with that beanie and small smile.

“When I moved here, I was looking for a place to stay at and he accidentally spilled his coffee all over me so...that’s when we first met. Then we met at our university and it turns out, before I moved to my current apartment, our flats were next to each other. The Universe really wanted us together” I chuckled and shrugged while Vernon hummed impressed.

“That’s nice, I tend to say...nothing happens without a reason, so…”

“So, I was supposed to meet him in order to meet you guys?” I raised an amused eyebrow and Vernon nodded with a wide grin.

“I still didn’t forget you pointing that gun at my best friend’s head” I raised an eyebrow when Vernon looked away with a frown, “If you’ve known each other for so long...why would you point a gun at his head?”

“We were being watched, no one knew, only Mingyu and I. Our gang is discreet, Y/N, no one from the outside knows anything about us. They don’t know we grew up together, they don’t know our stories...we are invisible to everyone. It’s partly thanks to Jeonghan and Joshua, who are our aces, but we also never make ties with anyone else if it’s possible. We can’t afford to have weaknesses in a world like ours” Vernon explained with a serious expression and I nodded in understanding.

“But then Seungcheol and I--”

“Oh, he hid you really well for five years. We really didn’t know about your existence” Vernon seemed like a genuine guy, honest as he was willing to let me know more about them.

“Well, I didn’t know about you either so I guess he did a good job” I said with a chuckle and Vernon nodded.

“That gang who kidnapped me--”

“Yeah, they were watching us. They probably followed you around after that and gathered all that information about you, which is really dangerous” I frowned but Vernon placed a reassuring hand on my knee, “Don’t worry, Jeonghan took care of it. You are once again invisible to everyone in this world”

“What if it’s too late?” I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not, we made sure” He smiled at me. Vernon made me feel safe, like an older brother. He gave off the same vibe as Seungcheol. That was the first thing that attracted me towards him, the safety his presence offered me at first and then his personality. Seungcheol and Vernon are good people despite the things they do, which makes it harder for me to understand. Is there even wrong or right?

“Y/N!” Seungcheol called as I looked in his direction, “I hope you had fun but we are leaving”

“So soon?” Vernon asked as he stood up with me.

“Yeah, she’s seen and heard enough, I’m sure” Seungcheol sent a pointed look at Vernon and Wonwoo chuckled as he raised from his seat, placing the book down.

“Hey, I’m not like that,” Vernon said while crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“After spending so much time with Seungkwan…” Wonwoo said as he walked up to us, “There’s no way you aren’t like that”

“Fuck you!” Seungkwan shouted, making most boys laugh. Do they laugh at everything? I looked at Wonwoo with a smile and he sent a wink as he stopped beside me.

“Someone was maybe bothered by your closeness to Vernon” He muttered quietly, so that only I would hear as Vernon and Seungcheol spoke between each other. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo, but the realization soon hit me. My eyes fell behind him and there was Mingyu, one eyebrow raised. I rolled my eyes and looked back at Wonwoo.

“If he sent you to tell me this, tell him to go and fuck himself” I smiled sweetly at Wonwoo and he chuckled while shaking his head.

“My thoughts, not his” I hummed while narrowing my eyes at Wonwoo who smiled mischievously.

“We are going, Y/N” Seungcheol gripped my arm and I sent him a glare to which he let go of me.

“He was bothered, really? Let’s make him enjoy the show more” I said with an evil grin and Wonwoo looked confused as I leaned closer to him, wrapping my arms around him. Realizing what I did, he returned the hug and chuckled.

“You are playing with fire, be careful not to get burned” He said after we pulled away and I returned the smile.

“Let’s go--”

“Do I not get a hug?” Seungcheol groaned when Vernon stepped between him and I.

“You get one too” I laughed and gave him a quick hug before taking Seungcheol’s hand in mine.

“Let’s go Cheol, before you become too angry” I stuck my tongue out at him as he rolled his eyes and started walking.

“Finally”

“Bye guys!” I called as I turned around to give them a wave. There was a chorus of ‘goodbye’s’ before Seungcheol closed the sliding door and led us out of the apartment.

“Never doing this again” He muttered and I chuckled as I leaned against the elevator wall. It wasn’t even that bad.

One month later things didn’t change. Kim Mingyu still followed me around, even after that night I confronted him while going home from the bookstore. I made sure to lure him into an alleyway and snap at him, but he just laughed in my face and said, “Baby, I hold the gun here so you just keep on walking like you are oblivious to it” and like that, I knew I was just wasting my time if I focused on him. However, there’s something positive in every negative aspect and that in this case is my friendship with Vernon. We bonded faster than I thought we would and we found ourselves making movie marathons every Friday. Seungcheol was against it but in the end didn’t have a choice but to accept it. It’s not like I’m replacing him, he is still my best friend but it would be a shame not to spend time with Vernon when we go so well together.

“So how are things with that guy?” One afternoon Irene asked while we were organizing some books.

“Which guy?” I asked absentmindedly as I was trying to find a book.

“Oh my God” She chuckled as she looked at me teasingly, “How many guys are after your ass now?”

“What?” I chuckled as I rolled my eyes, “Zero guys, you know I’m not interested in anyone”

“Three o’clock and fifteen minutes” Irene said loudly as she craned her neck, stepping away from the bookshelf.

“What are you saying?” I laughed, following her actions.

“There he is, your giant who walks by the bookstore every single day at the same time” Irene said with a grin as we watched Mingyu not so subtly glancing inside as he passed in front of the bookstore. I groaned as I went back to organizing the books.

“It’s been two months, Y/N, I’d be scared if I were you but you most certainly know him as you are so calm about it” Irene said as she walked past me.

“Yeah, I know him but I also can’t stand him so it doesn’t matter” I shrugged, placing a book in its place.

“Well he does care apparently--”

“Irene” I interrupted her with a sigh, “Don’t”

“If I wouldn’t know you better Y/N, I’d say you got yourself involved into some kind of trouble and now he is your bodyguard without you wanting him to be” Irene chuckled as I paused and looked at her. If she only knew that she was almost right.

“Yeah, right” I faked a laugh, which definitely sounded fake even to her ears, but my eyebrows furrowed. I’ve never thought of Mingyu like that before. I did indeed get in trouble because of him and well, Seungcheol, but I didn’t think that he might be feeling guilty about it hence why he started acting like my bodyguard. Peaking a bit outside, my eyes settled on the seemingly empty road. Was Mingyu really the bad guy I was making him out to be?

Irene’s words seemed to have affected me more than necessary and I was prone to speak to Mingyu. I’m not a liar nor an evil person just because I feel like it, yes, I do not like Mingyu but maybe it’s time I give him a chance? I didn’t judge Vernon nor anyone else from SVT. But maybe that was because they didn’t leave a bitter taste in my mouth, after all, my first encounter with Mingyu wasn’t a pleasant one. But then--how was the one with Vernon? He threatened to kill my friend.

I groaned as I leaned back in the seat and stared up at the ceiling.

“Three o’clock and fifteen minutes” I heard Irene faintly from the back of the bookstore. My eyes went outside the windows but there was no one, at least not Mingyu, that passed in front of the bookstore.

“So, did he pass by?” She asked curiously. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked towards where Irene’s voice was coming from.

“No”

“Oh” Irene sounded surprised as she walked back, leaning against the front counter, “But it’s Wednesday and he’s been gone for three days now”

“I know” I rolled my eyes, “You seem more obsessed over this than I am”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Irene frowned as she looked at me, “There was rain, strong wind, ice cold weather and he still walked by--but now nothing, and it’s been sunny all week so far”

“Maybe he finally realized how annoying he is and stopped” I grinned at Irene while trying to ignore the worry beginning to take over me, “God finally listened to my prayers”

“You wish,” Irene said with a scoff as she turned around and walked to a sofa and took a book.

He probably has got some business to take care of, he is a gang leader after all. Or maybe he realized he had better things to do, much to my happiness. Before I could think more of it, my phone started ringing. I picked it up with a smile when I saw it was Vernon.

“Hi” I giggled into the phone when he started making weird sounds.

“Is this Oh Y/N?” He asked in a deep raspy voice.

“Well who am I talking to?” I asked amused as I could hear a quiet snort in the background.

“Be quiet Soonyoung!” Vernon hissed quietly before clearing his throat, “I’m Hansol, Vernon’s twin brother”

“Oh, he never told me had a twin brother,” I said amused, leaning back in my chair.

“Whatever, doing this voice is hurting my vocal chords” I snorted at Vernon’s words.

“So what’s up?” I asked with a smile while playing with my pen.

“I was bored and decided to give you a call”

“Well good, because I am bored too”

“What about we grab dinner tonight?” Vernon asked in a light tone and I hummed as my eyes went once again outside the windows.

“Sounds great, can Seungcheol come with us?” I knew Seungcheol would get petty about not being invited so...I had no choice.

“Yeah, he told me to actually ask you out…” Vernon’s voice turned quieter, “He just wants a free meal”

I scoffed and laughed as I rolled my eyes, “That sounds like Seungcheol, but I have a better idea!”

“I’m all ears,” Vernon said with a chuckle.

“Let’s invite him and before we could pay for it, leave him there. He either pays or washes the dishes, his choice” Vernon started laughing as I grinned to myself, still playing with my pen.

“I like how that sounds” I hummed as my eyes wandered towards the windows once again. Stop it Y/N!

“Vernon, I have a question…” I trailed off as my eyes wandered to Irene. She was reading, eyebrows furrowed as she was probably concentrating, she shouldn’t hear what I’m saying.

“I’ve been wondering just, you know...how Mingyu follows me around and stuff…” I trailed off as I thought how to formulate my question to sound casual.

“Yeah, everyone knows that” Vernon chuckled, “He’s pretty freaky, huh?”

“Yeah” I snorted as I bit my lower lip, “You know...I haven’t seen him this week so far, maybe he’s--”

“You haven’t?” Vernon’s voice wasn’t surprised, it was more happy, “I can pick you up then from the bookstore tonight!”

“Amazing, yeah” My eyebrows furrowed at the lack of worry in his voice, “Where’s Mingyu though?”

I decided to just blurt it out, better than kicking around the bush. Vernon was quiet and even Irene looked at me. What? Was it that weird that I asked about him? Okay, fine, I confess! Thanks to Irene’s words I became worried!

“Honestly…” Vernon trailed off before clearing his throat, “We don’t know”

“What? And you aren’t worried?” My eyebrows furrowed as I sat up straight in the chair.

“Not really, he does that from time to time” Vernon replied casually and I frowned.

“Well if you aren’t worried...anyways, see you tonight” I cleared my throat and Vernon chuckled before biding me goodbye.

I placed my phone on the table and sighed loudly.

“Not worried, huh?” Irene said loudly as the door opened and signaled a customer. My head snapped in her direction as I threw her a warning glare. She’s lucky we have a customer and I can’t curse her.

A week passed by and there was no Kim Mingyu. It felt oddly irritating. I got so used to having him in my shadow that now, wherever I went, I kept glancing behind my back, anxious all the time. I didn’t even realize how safe he made me feel by following me around. And then there was the worry I felt for him, what if something happened to him? Vernon said last week he doesn’t know where he is, no one in fact from SVT knows where he is. What if he got injured? What if someone killed him? What if he just went to visit his family? Girlfriend?

I frowned at my last thought as it didn’t sit well with me. Wouldn’t his girlfriend be bothered knowing that his boyfriend was following around another girl? Because it most certainly wouldn’t make me happy to hear.

“Are you even listening to me?” Irene slammed her hands on the front desk and I jumped.

“Sorry, I’m just studying and didn’t hear you…” I muttered as I glanced down at my notebook, which was long forgotten as I was lost in my thoughts.

“Right” Irene narrowed her eyes at me and I only smiled sweetly, “Anyways, I was saying I’d be thankful if you came and helped me unload the box of new books, it’s really heavy”

I huffed as I closed my notebook and rose from the chair, “Coming, stop whining now”

Irene chuckled and started walking to the back as I left the front counter, however, the door opened signaling a new customer. Irene glanced back at me and nodded as I turned around to go back and greet the person.

“Hello, welcome to--” The words caught in my throat when I locked eyes with the giant. His hair was black and in a normal haircut, short bangs framing his forehead. His flaming and wild red hair was gone. It looked weird, he looked weird. I was used to seeing him with that wild look, he looked dangerous and mysterious...now, he kinda looked normal. As normal as a giant can look.

“Mingyu?!” I asked stunned as I took in his body, his shoulders were, unlikely to him, slouched.

“Hello, sugar” Mingyu’s lips pulled up in a smirk, “Missed me?”

I opened my mouth to snap back at him but something felt off. It looked as if he was in pain, the smirk wasn’t sincere like every other time, it looked painful.

“Where were you?” I narrowed my eyes as I walked closer to him. He chuckled amused and leaned down a bit as I caught his wince this time.

“Worried about me already, sugar? Wait until our wedding day at least--”

“I swear to God, Mingyu, if you don’t stop with that bullshit I’ll cut off your balls before you can say wedding day again!” I snapped, ears red as I stared at an amused Mingyu. Every single day, and I mean that, he told me something connected to our wedding day. When I bought milk, when I walked down the street, when I went and shopped for flowers...he always found something he could connect to our ‘wedding day’.

“But come on, sugar” He chuckled taking a step closer, “Soon you’ll be all mine, my beautiful wife--”

With a hiss I punched his stomach, making him double over. Something was definitely wrong as I watched Mingyu inhale sharply and his face twisted into an angry expression. There’s no way in hell my punch was strong enough to make him double over. Mingyu is not fine.

“Look at me” I demanded lowly as I stepped closer to him. Mingyu’s eyes found mine and before he could say a thing I grabbed his jaw and yanked him closer to me. His eyes widened in shock as he was not expecting something like that from me. My eyes ran over his seemingly perfect face until I found the smallest cut in the corner of his lips. I made eye contact with him and the playful and teasing Mingyu was gone as he gazed at me seriously. I felt captivated by his dark eyes and suddenly I realized just how close our faces were to each other, I could feel his breath fanning my nose. I gulped and continued to gaze into his eyes as if trying to find something in there, something he was hiding.

“Did the customer--Oh my God!” That was the loudest I’ve ever heard Irene speaking, and that was saying a lot. I quickly let go of Mingyu and stepped back as he straightened himself, wincing quite visibly.

“Hello” Irene said with a sweet smile, tucking a strand hair behind her ear, “I’m Irene, Y/N’s co-worker”

“Mingyu” He nodded towards Irene with an amused smile as he kept glancing between the two of us. Irene threw me a smirk and I widened my eyes in warning before turning back to Mingyu.

“Come with me” I muttered as I turned to walk by Irene, leading the way to the back where the bathroom was.

“There’s condoms in the cabinet underneath the sink” Irene whispered as I passed by her and I abruptly stopped walking, making Mingyu run into me from behind.

“What?!” I exclaimed loudly, wide eyes staring at an amused Irene.

“Go on now” She chuckled, pushing us away, “Don’t take too long though”

I made sure to throw a killer glare at her as I continued on leading the way to the bathroom. Mingyu chuckled but remained silent for the rest of our walk as he gazed around. I opened the door and let him enter first before turning on the lights.

“Irene is really funny” Mingyu chuckled as I closed the door behind me, “I already like her”

“I’m going to murder her” I snapped as I looked up at an amused looking Mingyu.

“Careful, sugar, you out of all know the weight of those words” He pointed a finger at me and I swatted it away.

“Sit down and strip” I demanded, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Oh” Mingyu’s eyes went wide before a smirk crossed his lips once again, “I like it when girls are so straightforward--”

“Mingyu--” I took a deep breath as I stepped closer, “Just stop it and take off your coat and shirt”

His eyes narrowed at me but when I wouldn’t stop glaring at him he sighed and carefully took off his coat. I watched as he winced and took a sharp breath once his coat was off. He looked at me as if he was done but I only raised my eyebrows and he undid the buttons of his shirt slowly. When it was off, my eyes widened at Mingyu’s torso. His ribs were purple and blue and there was a big gash starting from his left collarbone and stopping right where his heart was.

“Oh my God!” I gasped, eyes wide as I closed the distance between us, “What-what happened, I--”

“Nothing serious!” Mingyu shrugged as he sat on the toilet lid.

“Kim Mingyu!” I snapped, before leaning closer to inspect the big cut. It didn’t look deep, thank God, but it did look painful as hell.

“Okay” He rolled his eyes as I went to take a clean rag from the cabinet and some disinfectant, “I had to attend some meetings last week, out of town of course, and I got in a fight today before returning”

“This is what you call a fight?” I exclaimed annoyed as I started cleaning the big cut. Mingyu hissed and gripped my wrist tightly, halting my movements.

“That fucking stings” He snapped, eyebrows furrowed as he pushed away my hand from his chest.

“Well you can fucking die if it gets infected, so let me do my job” I snapped back with a glare and after a second of silence he let go of my wrist, quite reluctantly might I add.

“Last time Jeonghan and Joshua checked--” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as Mingyu just waited for me to finish my dramatic reaction before continuing, “you weren’t a nurse”

“Still am not, but I know what to do. My father would get in fights with random people on the street and I always treated his wounds” I muttered quietly, trying to be careful while cleaning the cut.

“No wonder you’re such a violent lady” Mingyu muttered more to himself and an amused smile appeared on my lips.

“Violent lady?” He made eye contact with me and nodded.

“Indeed, violent lady you are, sugar” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Before the silence could engulf us and make me feel awkward, since I am pretty much standing in front of a half naked Mingyu...with a huge cut and bruised ribs and well, I’m also touching that chest...anyways. I cleared my throat and focused on cleaning the lower part of the wound.

“Vernon told me that they didn’t know where you were and then I--”

“Vernon?!” Mingyu exclaimed, gripping my wrist once again tightly. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Vernon”

“Vernon Hansol Chwe?”

“Yes, Vernon Hansol Chwe” I watched as Mingyu scoffed and let go of my wrist with a shove, “You’ve got a problem with that?”

“I--” Mingyu’s voice was rather high pitched as he looked me in the eyes, but stopped himself before saying anything else. I raised my eyebrows expectantly but he just took my wrist and placed my hand holding the rag against his chest, “You just clean this mess up and shut up, I have a headache”

“Of course, you are very welcome Mingyu” I said sarcastically as I finished up his cut. He couldn’t even be grateful after I cleaned the big ass cut from his chest, without having even any obligations to do it. The things I started doing for Kim Mingyu…

Things returned to normal, much to my dismay. Mingyu was healthy again after a week and he took that as an invitation to enter the bookstore every time he passed by now. Irene and him quickly connected and I didn’t know how to feel about that. They both would be throwing me teasing looks when the other wasn’t looking and I would just glare back. Sometime last week Mingyu even started bringing us food, even though I told him many times that I didn’t want to eat on his money. Of course he reassured me that he has lots of it and that it shouldn’t worry me, as if that was even the cause in the first place. But I couldn’t fight back, I realized, Kim Mingyu always got what he wanted. Even if I opposed him all the time and gave him a hard time, he still somehow got what he wanted. And that is very infuriating.

That is why instead of studying for my next exam, I was staring at the wall with my eyebrows furrowed. I couldn’t stop thinking about how two days ago he tricked me into having dinner with him. I closed up the bookstore later than usual as we had inventory to do and he offered to drive me home. Any other time I would have declined his offer, but it was pouring hard outside, I had no umbrella and I was tired...and I didn’t want to call Seungcheol as he was busy with some mysterious plans SVT had. So I accepted his offer, a mistake, I realized once I saw him driving in the opposite direction of my neighborhood and towards the most expensive part of town. I was pissed and I still am actually. I groaned as I ruffled my bangs and threw my notebook off my lap, just for my front door to be kicked open. My heart jumped in my chest and picked up its peaceful rhythm as I thought someone broke in to kidnap me again. I was looking around my living room for anything that I could use as a weapon when I heard the familiar voice of Seungcheol.

“I said no!” He shouted in the hallway and my eyebrows furrowed. Before I could go see what was happening, Seungcheol was already storming inside my living room. His eyes found mine and I realized he was really angry. I walked closer to him to ask what was wrong when a throat was cleared in the doorway. My eyebrows furrowed more as I looked confused at the five men standing in my doorway. What the fuck is happening? Jun smirked and threw a wink as he walked further inside as if this was his place, Minghao had an amused smile on his face when he saw me scowling at Jun. Vernon and Wonwoo were grinning excitedly and I couldn’t help the giggle that left my lips and Mingyu was looking around curiously. Mingyu. Again. Of course. I glared at him as I walked towards him and pushed at his, now healed, chest.

“Get out!” I snapped, but my push did little to nothing as Mingyu’s built was almost twice bigger than mine. He looked offended that my first reaction to seeing him was to throw him out of my apartment. He is not welcomed here.

“Seriously?” He asked amused, but the glare didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

“I don’t remember inviting you inside” I answered him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Mingyu scoffed as he looked at the other five men scattered in my living room.

“If they can stay, so can I.” And before I could curse him out, he pushed past me and sat down just where I was sitting seconds before. I scoffed and leaned against my door frame.

“Do you want some drinks?”

“No.” Seungcheol snapped irritatedly as he ruffled his hair. He was standing next to the big window and drew the curtains together, blocking the view of the city. Something must have happened if he’s so on edge. I opened my mouth to ask once again what was wrong, but Vernon cut me off.

“Don’t I get my hug?” He tried to defuse the tense air in the room, but made it worse when Seungcheol and Mingyu both started glaring at him. I didn’t want to make Seungcheol angrier than he already was, but tormenting Mingyu was always something I enjoyed doing. And Vernon is my friend, I always hug him when we meet. So with a small smile and a shake of my head I walked towards him, he stood up from the ground, and we hugged. He squeezed me into his arms and lifted me up a bit, making me giggle into his neck. Vernon made me feel comfortable and protected. Having him and Seungcheol as my friends felt like having two older brothers and it was a feeling I really enjoyed. Seungcheol was like the stern and over protective older brother and Vernon the funny one and always ready to cause trouble with you kind of older brother. Mingyu scoffed as he looked away and I smirked to myself as I let go of Vernon. Mingyu always acts like a big, bad, tough guy but in moments like this his true self shows. He’s just a jealous, greedy, piece of shit.

“So…”I spoke up as I walked next to Seungcheol and put an arm around his shoulders, “care to tell me why you six waltzed into my apartment uninvited with a very pissed Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol sighed deeply next to me and took my hand resting on his shoulders in his, giving it a squeeze. He was trying to calm down so I looked at him and offered him a friendly smile.

“Because Mingyu is fucking crazy!” He still couldn’t contain his temper as he looked at Mingyu with the deadliest glare I’ve ever seen coming from him.

“No, Mingyu is just fucking annoying. He can’t take a no, nor a ‘I told you to leave me alone, asshole’, nor a ‘I will fucking put you into jail if you don’t stop--’”

“Shut up, sugar, unless you want to really piss me off” Mingyu spoke lowly, eyes boring into mine as a smirk spread on my lips.

“Oh, I’m just getting started. Or what? Will you put a bullet in my head like you threatened so many times already?” Mingyu’s jaw clenched as he was ready to spring to his feet when Seungcheol chuckled humorlessly.

“Well if he won’t put a bullet in your head, someone else will fucking sure do it.” My eyes went wide as I looked at Seungcheol then at Vernon and Wonwoo. What is he talking about? My heart started beating quickly again as I let go of Seungcheol and straightened my posture. Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized what he said and sighed, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that--”

“But what you said is right.” Vernon cut off Seungcheol and I looked between the two even more confused. A headache was brewing as I felt a light pressure in my forehead.

“Okay, honestly, what the fuck?” I finally snapped, glaring at everyone in room, especially at Seungcheol, “You have five seconds to explain before I call the cops”

“Yeah, right” Seungcheol muttered underneath his breath and I kicked his shin, earning a hiss from him.

Minghao, however, placed a brown envelope on top of my coffee table and looked at me with a neutral expression. I bit my lower lip, looking at the envelope nervously. What can be in there? Am I a wanted criminal for hanging around with SVT? Or did someone put a prize on my head because of Mingyu? Because he’s always with me and the other gangs probably already think there’s something going on between us? Coming to think of it, Kim Mingyu is a fucking idiot. He couldn’t even keep it on the low that he’s after me 24/7.

“There’s an auction tomorrow at the Town Hall. We are going to steal a 1.00 carat Diamond ring--

“We are buying it first, Minghao, didn’t I tell you that already?” Mingyu asked with a yawn and Minghao rolled his eyes before he looked back at me.

“It’s not buying if we steal it before we can pay for it, anyways, Y/N, we need you to come with us” I blinked once and then twice as it was quiet in the room. Everyone was looking at me. Oh, now I understand why Seungcheol is so pissed, he doesn’t want to involve me in their business.

“We don’t need you to come, that’s just the bullshit coming out of Mingyu’s brain. We can perfectly do it without you too, we’ve already done it thousands of times.” Seungcheol’s jaw clenched as glared at their leader.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, my tolerance with you is running thin!” Mingyu snapped as he stood up, eyes narrowed at my friend. I sighed and took a step forward in order to stand between these two. I don’t want a gun pointed at Seungcheol again.

“Stop it!” I glared at both before looking down at the envelope, Seungcheol said they’ve done this before so nothing should go wrong. And it’s a Saturday tomorrow, a day I’d rather spend around high class people than study for my crucial exam. A small smirk spread on my lips as I looked up at Mingyu. His eyes were focused on me and when he saw my expression he knew I was in. He took a step back and sat on my couch again as he looked at Seungcheol smugly, who couldn’t see me as I was standing with my back towards him.

“Fine, I’m in” I said loud and clear and Seungcheol grabbed my arm.

“Are you crazy?! This is exposing you into our world so much more! It’s too dangerous, Y/N, please--”

“You think I’m not exposed way too much already?!” I raised my eyebrows with a scoff, “Mingyu’s been following me around daily for months, Seungcheol, you think no one saw him? Saw me? Saw the two of us together and got the wrong idea? Hell, I was exposed by you a long time ago, you just never wanted to admit it because you need me. And because I need you, Seungcheol.” My voice grew soft as Seungcheol looked down at the ground, his grip growing softer on my arm. I placed my other hand on his holding mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Trust me, okay?” I whispered as Seungcheol looked me in the eyes defeated and nodded wordlessly.

“Be home tomorrow all day, you’ll have a package sent your way. I’ll pick you up at five in the afternoon.” Mingyu spoke up as he rose from my sofa and patted Minghao on the back.

“I’m only going with you if Seungcheol, Vernon and Wonwoo will be there with me at the auction.” I stepped in front of Mingyu so he couldn’t leave. There were a few inches between our bodies and I tried to ignore his scent and body warmth. He felt really inviting and I hated how easily my body gave in. I got too used to him and that’s bad.

“You don’t get to negotiate with me, Y/N.” Him using my name never meant anything good. He was dead serious. He wasn’t glaring nor speaking in a threatening way, but his words were enough to warn me.

“And you need me, Mingyu, otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. So if you want me to really go, those are my conditions. And...Wonwoo picks me up, not you.” A throat was cleared behind Mingyu as a way to hide the laughter that bubbled up from Wonwoo. He was enjoying this a lot. He always enjoyed me standing up to Mingyu and never was afraid to show it, he really has known Mingyu for the longest.

“If you think…” He leaned down, our noses brushing against each other, “That you’ll be able to avoid me all night, you are very wrong. You are my girl.”

“Fuck you, I am no one’s, especially not yours.” I said pissed but Mingyu just sniffed before straightening up and walking past me. I glared at the wall as the boys one by one left my apartment.

“See you tomorrow!” Wonwoo smiled cutely and I sighed as I nodded. Vernon waved and before Seungcheol could leave, I grabbed his arm.

“Sleep here tonight?” Seungcheol looked past my shoulder and nodded at the person behind me, no doubt Mingyu, before he gave me a small smile.

“I’ve got to take care of a few things, I’ll be back in an hour”

“Cool, I’ll cook us something then” He kissed my forehead before leaving too. I sighed and walked to the coffee table to pick up the envelope. The big diamond ring stared back at me mockingly and I studied it as I made my way to the kitchen. This will be interesting.

I stared at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror with a grimace. Of course Mingyu would pick a dress like this one. Red silk, tightly clinging to my body, deep V cut with thin straps and floor length but with a cut so high on my left thigh that I’m afraid my underwear will show if I take big steps. The heels sent with the dress were a dark emerald green, matching my earrings and purse. When I first saw the dress my jaw dropped, I was mesmerized by the fabric and beauty of it but when I finally dressed in it, I realized how provoking it is. I honestly don’t know if Mingyu is doing this for his own twisted mind or because he wants me to distract the important people he’s stealing from tonight. He sent nothing to wear over the dress so I decided to pull on my white fur jacket that I got from Seungcheol two years ago. He showed up to my birthday with the fancy package and at first I thought he was pranking me, but when I opened the box I was left speechless. He refused to tell me where he got the money from to buy such an expensive gift for me but now I know, it all makes sense now. My phone pinged and I glanced down to see a text from Wonwoo informing me that he was downstairs waiting for me. I took a deep breath and tightened the low ponytail before slipping my red lipstick inside my purse and quickly left, after locking the front door.

Wonwoo had a big smile on his lips when he saw me opening the apartment complex’s door, pretending to take off his hat as I walked closer to him. I chuckled and shook my head as I stopped in front of him.

“Didn’t he just overdo himself?” I asked, rolling my eyes as I twirled around slowly. Wonwoo started laughing, his deep voice raising a few octaves.

“Mingyu always had good taste and right now he hit the jackspot,” There was a sly smirk on Wonwoo’s lips as he pushed off the car, “All eyes will be on you tonight.”

“I guess that is his goal?” I asked with a sigh as I sat inside the car after Wonwoo opened the backseat door for me, “I have to distract the important people so that you guys can steal peacefully?”

Wonwoo chuckled and shook his head before closing the door and jogging to the driver’s seat. I buckled up the seatbelt and got comfortable on the leather seat, still not used to the softness of the fabric of my dress.

Wonwoo sat inside and started the car smoothly, slowly taking off, “You being there with us tonight is just Mingyu wanting to show off. He’s not using you as a distraction, although that’s what will happen probably. I know you hate the situation you are in, but Mingyu is never letting go of you. You can hate him until the end of your life but you got him wrapped around your fingers, something he will never admit.”

“I don’t understand what’s so special about me. There’s so many women out there who would willingly be with him, who are, hell, desperate to be with a man like him!” I exclaimed as I looked out the window.

“Trust me, I don’t understand either” Wonwoo started laughing and I rolled my eyes in a playful manner, “It’s mainly how loyal you are to Seungcheol. You really left a deep impression on him when you stood in front of that gun pointed at your friend. Many would have ran away just by seeing the situation that was unfolding when you stepped in. I knew you’d bring trouble upon us when you left Seungcheol’s vehicle--”

“You were in the van!” I exclaimed, leaning forward in my seat gaping. Wonwoo glanced back at me through the rearview mirror with a cheeky grin, “I knew it! I knew someone was inside the van still, I felt it!”

“Yeah, I’m about to make a bold statement, but I’m one hundred percent sure we even made eye contact!” I gasped and soon we were both laughing. Sometimes I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that these men are part of a dangerous organization, hell, they are even more dangerous. That Seungcheol, the nicest and most caring man I know, is a drug dealer lord and that Vernon, the funny and reliable friend, is a hitman. Even Wonwoo, who always makes me laugh and loves to read in his free time, he’s the designated get away driver who’s caused numerous accidents that killed innocent by-standers. It’s a crazy world I got dragged in accidentally and no matter how much I hate it, Mingyu’s right, there’s no way out for me. So I better woman up and accept my fate of always having someone in my shadow to protect me from unknown dangers.

“Just smile and be nice to everyone Mingyu will introduce you to,” Wonwoo spoke up, bringing me out of my thoughts, “And try to keep your witty remarks to yourself until at least you are alone”

“Great, we are here” I muttered to myself as suddenly my stomach felt like an empty hole. I gulped and undid my seatbelt, about to open my door when someone opened it for me. It was Seungcheol and I took a deep breath before stepping out.

“Have fun, by the way, you look absolutely stunning!” Wonwoo called after me and I offered him a small smile as Seungcheol closed the door for me.

“My God” I breathed out as I looked around at the people swarming the place, all looking fancy and expensive. I’ve never seen so much luxury at one place ever in my life. Rich people really have it all.

“I thought I could do this, but I’m on the verge of throwing up, Cheol!” I whisper-shouted as I gripped onto my friend’s forearm. He sighed and I looked at him, taking in his outfit for the first time. He was wearing a dark red tuxedo, looking really handsome. His black hair was gelled back and the lip piercing was missing, he looked weird without the accessory.

“You have to put that lip piercing back the second we leave this place” I said with furrowed eyebrows as Seungcheol chuckled and pushed me back gently, getting a good look at my outfit.

“I’m going to fucking murder Mingyu, what are you wearing!” Seungcheol’s exclamation earned a few cross eyed looks and I pinched his hand to warn him to keep it down.

“A very expensive designer dress that I picked out myself with great care.” Mingyu seemed to teleport as he spoke up from next to me, eyes locking with Seungcheol, “Why? Do you have a problem?”

“It’s too revealing!” Seungcheol hissed and I sighed as I grabbed his arm.

“It’s fine, it’s just for tonight, Cheol. Let’s not cause a scene, okay?” I spoke softly, trying to calm him as I noticed people looking more frequently over. It could just be because Mingyu is standing next to me, I don’t know, but I don’t want to test our luck tonight. A hand touched my arm and I cringed a little when Mingyu intertwined our arms, but I stayed quiet deciding to follow Wonwoo’s advice.

“Do your job, S.Coups, it’s why you are here tonight.” Mingyu’s voice was stern as he shot Seungcheol another look before taking off towards the entrance. I remained quiet as I followed his lead, taking in the beauty of the place. The chandeliers hanging low were covered in sparkling crystals and the floor and wall were all marble. The place looked breathtaking. My attention soon turned to the bodyguard standing at the next door, a notebook in his hands.

“Kim Mingyu, Oh Y/N” Mingyu spoke before the guard could even speak up, checking our names on the list. He gave us a nod and Mingyu started leading the way once again. As we walked inside the spacious room, music flooded my ears, nice slow music, and chatter. People were everywhere you looked, holding drinks or nothing in their hands, and laughing and talking with each other. Towards the front of the room was a small stage where the live band was playing and in front of the stage numerous empty chairs, for the auction later. We walked towards the right back of the room, where round tables had name tags on, and as Mingyu found ours we stopped. I shrugged my fur jacket off and hung it on the chair, placing my purse on the table next to the champagne glass. I felt eyes on me so I turned to look at Mingyu. For the first time tonight, I looked at him and took in his outfit. He was wearing all black, dress trousers, a vest without any dress shirt underneath and a sparkly tuxedo jacket with chains on. His black hair was styled in a way that left the impression that he had bangs but with the undercut it looked really nice. My eyes ran over his body once again and I tried to ignore the dryness of my throat when my eyes spotted his naked chest again. A chest on which a fading scar could be seen. He looked jaw dropping and I could see why so many ladies were looking our way. His look screamed danger, excitement and pleasure.

“I see I’m not the only one taken by my partner tonight” Mingyu smiled, genuinely, his sharp canines showing. I was speechless for a second and it made his smile widen.

“Don’t expect me to obey you after tonight” I tried to scowl while trying to say something logical, off thrown by his smile.

“I am not” He chuckled and stepped closer, eyes sweeping over my form for the nth time, “I really wasn’t going to choose this dress, but now I’m really glad I did”

“Something revealing not being your first choice? What a shock!” I placed a hand over my mouth mockingly and Mingyu rolled his eyes as he stepped again closer, little to no space between us now.

“We’ve spent so many months together and yet you still don’t know me, I am quite offended,” Mingyu said with a pout and my eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s not like we spent that time getting to know each other” I shrugged as my eyes wandered around the room, “You follow me around all the time while I yell at you to leave me alone...which makes me wonder, do you not have a life that you have to participate in?”

“Very funny” He glared a little as I offered him a sweet smile, “I take care of my business before I decide to stalk you”

“I’m glad you are aware that it’s called stalking what you do”

“Is it still stalking when the other one likes it?” He leaned in and I looked away in an attempt to ignore the closeness. My heart was beating so fast in my chest I was afraid the music wasn’t loud enough to cover it and Mingyu would hear it. I tried to distract myself even more as I furrowed my eyebrows and tried to spot a familiar face in the mass of people present in the room with us.

“Stalking is still stalking, Kim Mingyu, no matter the feelings tied to it” Finally, I answered back as a low humming sound came from the male standing too close in front of me. I made the mistake of glancing at him, our gazes catching each other and eyes locking.

“When will you admit that you like having me around?” His voice was barely a whisper and I probably wouldn’t have heard him if my senses wouldn’t have been in overdrive. Everything around me felt on fire as I gulped, trying to collect my thoughts. He never stood this close to me before, we were almost pressed up against each other. His body warm drew me in more and more and I found myself staring at his pink lips, tongue poking out to wet them. The action snapped me out of my staring and I quickly looked back up, our eyes once again connecting. Mingyu’s pupils were dilated as his eyes narrowed at me, and I cleared my throat awkwardly. All these feelings were suddenly overwhelming and confusing, since when did I start feeling this way around Mingyu?

“Never” I whispered, barely audible, as Mingyu leaned down. I panicked, eyes searching his face as I didn’t know what to expect from him.

“There you are!” A cheery voice greeted from behind Mingyu and I basically ripped myself away from the tall giant as I raced towards my friend, Vernon, who wasn’t standing far from us. My heart was hammering in my chest as I threw my arms around Vernon, hugging him tightly. He chuckled and hugged me back just as tightly, eyebrows playfully furrowed when I pulled back.

“Jesus, I never thought someone could miss me this much” Vernon laughed and I giggled along, trying to ignore the burning look coming from Mingyu. He was pissed that Vernon interrupted us, was he planning on kissing me? Was Mingyu about to kiss me? No, question, was I about to actually let him kiss me? The answer to that question was scary because I instantly knew the answer, so I smiled tightly at Mingyu before grabbing Vernon’s arm and pulled him towards the bar, far away from Mingyu.

“Why are we in a rush?” Vernon chuckled confused as I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

“Just running away from Mingyu, the usual, you know” I muttered as the bartender looked our way and I waved my fingers at him.

“I’d like a Cuba Libre, please” I asked politely as the bartender turned around and started preparing my cocktail, “Vernon, you have to promise me something”

“Uh, alright?” He asked with raised eyebrows as the bartender turned back to us with my drink. I went to grab for money but realized I left my purse on the table, where Mingyu is. I turned to Vernon with puppy eyes as he just grinned and handed the bartender a lot more money than that Cuba Libre cost.

“Thanks, I left my purse at the table”

“You can give it back after we go back and--”

“No!” I snapped, eyes wide, as I grabbed the glass firmly in my hands, “The promise I want to ask you is keep me away from Mingyu, all night.”

“All night?” Vernon’s eyes widened as he gulped and looked past my shoulder, back towards where the round tables were situated.

“All night.” I nodded my head firmly and took my first sip of my cocktail.

“Uh, shit, let’s get moving then!” My eyebrows furrowed when he pulled me after him, I almost spilled a little of the drink on myself, “Mingyu’s headed our way”

“Run!” I screeched quietly as Vernon laughed and started pulling me through the masses of people, doing everything to lose Mingyu.

And that’s exactly what Vernon and I did for the past two hours, we ran from Mingyu. We hid in the back garden, we danced on the dance floor to the slow music when we couldn’t see him, we socialized with people Vernon knew and even met some new ones, then went to the bar to get some more drinks when we made eye contact with a very pissed looking Mingyu. I was actually having a lot of fun, the night going a lot better than I was anticipating it to go. Vernon was amazing company and I couldn’t be more thankful for him accepting my little plan, knowing he’d have to suffer the repercussions later on for disobeying direct orders from Mingyu and hiding me from him.

“See those guys over there?” Vernon nodded subtly towards a couple not far away from us, standing at the end of the bar.

“Yeah, why?” I asked as my eyes swept over the place, trying to act casual, but also to see if I could catch a glimpse of Mingyu. I haven’t seen him in half an hour which was starting to make me uneasy.

“Undercover cops.” Vernon said lowly, lips barely moving as he steered the olive oil in his drink.

“No shit, are you forreal?” I slammed my third Cuba Libre on the bar a little too hard, eyes widening as I glanced towards the couple, who were looking at us now. Vernon frowned lightly and then suddenly laughed as he looked at the couple.

“She had a little bit too much already!” He called with a friendly smile, nodding towards my drink. I looked at him offended but quickly covered my reaction with a somewhat drunken giggle. The couple laughed along with me, nodding their heads before they walked away.

“You can’t react like that--”

“I’m sorry!” I quickly cut him off, realizing I was putting the reason why we were here at stake if I was reacting like that, “How many of them are here?”

“Are you kidding me?” Vernon laughed, downing his drink in a one shot, “This place is full of cops, Y/N”

“Holy shit” I muttered amazed as I looked out at the crowd on the dance floor then back at Vernon. However, I tensed up when my eyes fell on the man we’ve been avoiding for the past two hours, “Shit, the devil’s here, Vernon--” Vernon gripped my arm as we took off, leaving my drink on the counter as I looked back at it with a pout. We were weaving between people as Vernon headed for the dance floor, until our path was cut. I looked up and swallowed hard at the dark eyes and dark glare directed at us. Vernon just smiled as he nodded at his boss, about to go around him, but another pair of hands caught my other, free, arm.

“She’s staying.” Mingyu’s voice was hard as he didn’t even bother to turn our way. I shook my head as I looked at Vernon, asking for help, but my friend just sighed before letting go of my arm held by him.

“Traitor!” I snapped at him as my eyes widened, feet moving as Mingyu started walking.

“Sorry!” Vernon mouthed before he walked towards the round tables in the back of the room, leaving me alone with Kim Mingyu. I sighed as I followed after him wordlessly, not realizing he was leading us to the middle of the dance floor.

“If you’re about to bring me to a secluded place and blow my brains out, you should know that I’m not afraid and I will cause a scene, scream and--” I gasped as my chest collided with Mingyu’s chest. One hand around my lower back, pulling me flushed against him, and the other holding my right hand in his. I looked ahead, over Mingyu’s shoulder, as I hesitantly placed my other hand around his shoulder. He was holding me too close and suddenly my heart was hammering in my chest again. I wish I could have avoided him for longer, at least until the auction, when it wasn’t possible to dance anymore.

“I don’t appreciate you running around with Vernon” His voice was clear in my ear as he swayed us to the slow music.

“I don’t appreciate you forcing me into doing things I don’t want to do” I snapped back, referring to us dancing right now. It was a lie, a lie I wasn’t ready to admit yet. His body felt right against mine, our hands made for the other, our bodies knowing the next step of the other.

“I didn’t force you to come here, Y/N” Mingyu sighed and I gulped, making eye contact with a blonde haired woman who was glaring at me. I glared back at her before speaking again.

“Yeah, but you didn’t ask me if I wanted to dance with you”

“You are my date, Y/N, we are supposed to dance together” His grip on my hand tightened a bit and I hissed, knowing he could hear me. I made eye contact with another person, an older man this time, who was smiling, and smiled back at him.

“Yeah, you know, it’s a little late to say ‘pass’, but...pass.” I muttered as I turned my head a bit towards Mingyu’s, staring at his jawline. Images of him smoking when he took me to his house and cooked Fajitas entered my mind and I clenched my jaw. This really isn’t the time to think of something like that, it happened months ago yet the memory is crystal clear in my mind.

“You really do not understand, do you?” Mingyu snapped, finally letting his anger show. I chuckled as a lady greeted me and I nodded back at her, ignoring the way Mingyu’s fingers dug into my lower back.

“Understand what?” I pulled a bit away to be able to look in his eyes, eyes that held a lot of anger. I gulped and quickly looked away, my hand sneaking up from his shoulder to his neck. He tensed a bit and twirled us around a bit more aggressively as I held onto him.

“These people know who I am, Y/N, so that means they know who you are. What do you think it looks like to them when you are running around all night with a man who works for me, you proceed to hide from me with his help and even dance with him more than once?” His voice grew lower and lower and more pissed by the time he finished his sentence.

“I don’t know?” I answered quietly, not exactly understanding what his words meant.

“You are my girl, Y/N, and everyone knows that here. And running around with a little skanky boy all night long shows how little respect you have for me and how much I let you get away with. This is not the fucking time to parade around and create a shit show, sugar, people here are all from gangs from around the world and the country. One wrong fucking move and they will blow your brains out, not me, sugar.” I grew stiff in Mingyu’s arms upon he finished talking, growing silent as I looked around with wide eyes, seeing this place in a different light for the first time. I didn’t know that, that’s why Seungcheol was so against it and annoyed. I’m exposed to all these people. They now know who I am and know that I am Mingyu’s, or whatever.

“You’re such an asshole” I scoffed as I pulled my head back, making eye contact with the man holding me, “Do you realize you just exposed me to the whole fucking mob world?!”

“You did that to yourself when you interfered with our business, sugar” He said with a smirk, eyes holding less anger but just enough. He pissed me off and I tried to take deep breaths to remain calm, but it was hardly doing anything.

“Maybe if your man didn’t hold a gun against my best friend’s head I wouldn’t have--”

“Not my problem, I’m not in the mood to listen to your pathetic whining, again.” Mingyu snapped, quickly shutting me up but not exactly expecting me to cause a scene knowing where we were and who were around me. But I tried to either way, when was I the one with enough brains to not do anything reckless? I ripped my hand away from his abruptly and raised it, ready to slap Mingyu across the face, but he reacted almost a little too late. Before my palm could connect with his cheek he gripped my wrist and twirled me around in a pirouette, making my blood boil. I was back in his arms again, now in a tight grip as he pressed me against his body fully, restricting me as well in the process as he caged my arms between our bodies, one hand pushing my head next to his neck and the other keeping me tightly against him by my lower back. The thought of fighting back against him flashed quickly in my head but before I could wriggle myself out I made eye contact with a panicked looking Seungcheol. He looked ready to jump in the middle of the dance floor and pull me out of there. At first I thought something bad happened and we had to run, but I soon realized it were my actions that attracted more unwanted eyes on us and Seungcheol was begging me with his eyes to stop and save it for later, just let it go for now. My hands gripped the chains on Mingyu’s vest tightly as I clenched my jaw and stared at the ground, ignoring the quick falling and raising of Mingyu’s chest. I think I really messed up this time, even Mingyu had a limit and I just crossed it. I let out a shaky breath and Mingyu’s grip loosened just a little bit, but he didn’t let go. More and more people took intrigued glances our way and I knew I fucked up, they saw me trying to slap the shit out of him, they could see just how pissed both of us were. I guess it looked really bad if a gang leader’s partner disrespects him continuously, maybe it shows he’s got no power. I don’t know what these people think, but I have to fix my mistake. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath as I tried to pull my head back, but Mingyu didn’t let me.

“Let go, please” I mumbled as I caught the gaze of the glaring blonde again. Mingyu didn’t hesitate before the hand was gone and I was able to pull my head back. The lights dimmed in the back where the tables were and I figured the auction was about to happen, so I acted quickly. I broke eye contact with Mingyu and leaned in quickly, barely pressing my lips against his, hoping to everyone else it looked like a real kiss. But the hand was back on the back of my head and Mingyu’s soft pink lips pressed against mine firmly, making my heart hammer quicker than ever before. The music slowly died down and people started clapping, I pulled away and stared at Mingyu’s stained lips by my red lipstick. I took a deep breath and untangled myself from him and started walking away, knowing he’d follow me. I couldn’t look at him, embarrassed that I had to do that in front of everyone, in front of Seungcheol and probably even Vernon. A hand on the small of my back guided me through the people and back to our seats. When we sat down Mingyu grabbed a napkin and patted his lips, his eyes boring into my profile for the whole time. I shivered and cleared my throat as I took my glass of water from the table and gulped down a big amount. A man walked up onto the scene and I could see the crowd dispersing as people walked towards the chairs and others towards the round tables. A man in a purple expensive fur coat strutted past our table and down the aisle, turning briefly and nodding. Mingyu’s nod back caught my attention and I realized it was Minghao and he was walking towards the front chairs, placed there for the auction. I didn’t realize Mingyu wouldn’t directly participate in it. And so, the auction started and I stayed quiet and slumped in my seat as all the lights were directed at the stage now.

Halfway through the auction I felt two hands gripping my shoulders in a reassuring way and I jumped in my seat, taken by surprise. First thought was Mingyu, but he was sitting right beside me, so when I turned around I was met with Vernon smiling reassuringly at me.

“Can we get some air?” I whispered as another painting was sold at an outrageous price. Vernon glanced to my right and I followed his line of vision to be met with Mingyu’s glaring eyes, he raised an eyebrow.

“Can I go out?” I muttered while avoiding eye contact with Mingyu, the taste of his lips ebbed into my mind forever.

“Don’t stay for long.” He snapped as he looked at Vernon then back towards the auction, a diamond ring being the next object. It must be the ring for which we are here tonight. I took Vernon’s hand and followed after him as he led us towards the garden which was lit up by little fairy lights, a marble bench placed between two beautiful rose bushes. I took a seat on the bench and hugged myself in an attempt to warm myself, I left my fur coat inside.

“Have you seen Seungcheol?” I asked, raising my eyebrows as Vernon strolled around the garden, staying in ear shot distance so he could hear me.

“He’s keeping an eye on the auction, making sure Minghao gets the ring” Vernon answered from somewhere behind me, I couldn’t see him as he was behind a tree.

“Like a bodyguard” I mumbled to myself with a small smile, even here, Seungcheol is protecting someone. Light smoke floated in the air and I turned around, eyebrows furrowed as Vernon finally came into view. A cigarette was between his lips as he inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke out.

“You smoke?!” I asked shocked as I rubbed my arms up and down, cursing Mingyu for choosing a dress with so little coverage when it’s almost winter.

“Just when stressed” Vernon shrugged and threw his cigarette into the bin with a chuckle. I shook my head at him and looked up with a small smile as he stopped in front of me, looking down with a friendly smile.

“Do you do this often?” I asked quietly, looking around the garden.

“This?”

“Yeah, like...this.” I made a suggestive face and Vernon frowned before widening his eyes. He realized that I was referring to the auction and them stealing the item they were supposed to pay for.

“Pretty often, yeah” He nodded with a pout and shrugged his suit jacket off, “As often as there’s an auction that can offer us something good”

“Why does Mingyu need a diamond ring anyway?” I asked as I watched Vernon step closer and place his suit jacket around my exposed shoulders. I quickly placed my arms into the sleeves and pulled the suit jacket tightly against my body, the warmness making me sigh.

“Won’t you be cold?” I looked at Vernon as he took a seat next to me, he just shook his head and pointed at his long sleeved black shirt that was made of silk, like my dress.

“Business is business, I can’t tell you all of our secrets, Y/N, Mingyu really will have my head if I do” Vernon chuckled but I didn’t find it funny. I frowned as the kiss flashed in my mind again and I shuddered, side eyeing Vernon to see if he saw my reaction.

“Fuck Mingyu” I muttered finally and Vernon started laughing before placing his arm around my shoulders.

“Enough of Mingyu,” He grinned cheekily as if he knew something was eating me inside, “How’s college going?”

��Honestly?” I raised my eyebrows before groaning loudly, “I’m ready to drop out”

Vernon laughed again and squeezed my shoulders, “Seungcheol hyung did tell me not to mention college too often”

“Yeah, I’m actually close to walking inside and triggering Mingyu enough so that he blows my brains out--”

“Hey, no.” Vernon frowned at me and he turned my head towards him with his free hand, our faces pretty close, “Don’t say stuff like that, it’s never funny”

“Sorry” My lips formed a straight line as I felt as if we were being watched, but ignored it, maybe someone got bored of the auction and is just roaming around, “You know, we always talk so much shit when we are together, but I never asked you...how did you join the gang?”

“Ah” Vernon sealed his lips tightly in a tight lipped smile as I rested my head against his shoulder, “Well, Seungkwan and I have been friends since middle school. He always caused trouble and I always saved his ass. So one day he got into some really serious shit and there really wasn’t much to do but to suck it up and give those men money, they wouldn’t leave us alone. But then we started not being able to gather the money, they also raised the price, and I realized Seungkwan was slowly becoming more and more paranoid and he...developed depression quickly…”

I squeezed Vernon’s knee in a reassuring manner and he sighed before clearing his throat to continue, “I don’t know how much Mingyu told you, but everyone in SVT knows each other since high school. However, I met Mingyu in my last year in middle school and I thought he was really cool. So I tried to befriend him, but one day Seungkwan and I had a massive fight in the restroom, he was in a booth and heard everything so the next day I woke up with money on my desk and a note saying, ‘Meet me on the roof’--”

“Let me guess, Mingyu lent you money so that you could pay those men?” I asked as I raised my head and turned toward Vernon again.

“He did, he gave us more money than we needed, and I took it because we were desperate. In order to show gratefulness I decided to join him”

“No questions asked as to what he did? You just joined him blindly?” I raised my eyebrows as I discovered something new about Vernon.

“Yeah, I have the tendency to jump into things without learning more about them,” He giggled to himself as if he remembered something, “Seungkwan was really pissed, he even gave me a black eye when I told him I joined Mingyu’s gang”

“For once I respect Seungkwan” I mumbled with a chuckle and Vernon laughed loudly. It was pretty obvious that Seungkwan and I didn’t really get on well when we were around each other. He always finds something that he could pick on and I just always have something to fire back at him.

“Calling it a gang is so weird now” I raised my eyebrows as Vernon grinned, “We grew so much, Mingyu has a whole empire now. You still haven’t realized that you are dealing with the biggest, strongest and most dangerous mob leader of South Korea, Y/N”

I gulped as I looked away from Vernon then back at him, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t insist on going with Seungcheol to that parking lot, he offered to take me home first but I didn’t want him to waste his time. I really hate Mingyu, you know--”

There was a crashing sound coming from behind us and both Vernon and I jumped as he tensed up. But nothing else happened so maybe it was coming from inside?

“And then there’s times when I really can’t hate him, you know?” I continued as I gazed ahead, feeling Vernon’s eyes on me, “He’s funny sometimes and nice and then there’s times when he acts like a teenage boy with a crush and I think I hate him more for that. If he was always cruel and irritating, I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash his way, but he’s just--”

“That sounds a lot like you like him--”

“Hell no!” I snapped and pushed Vernon’s head away from mine, his arm slipping from around my shoulders as he started laughing loudly, “You need to check your hearing if that’s what you got from my rant, honestly, Vernon.”

“Sorry, sorry” He was still laughing as I huffed and stood up from the marble bench, but before I could walk away, arms were around me, hugging me from behind. I rolled my eyes and turned my head so that I could look at Vernon.

“I’m not forgiving you because you hug me, okay?”

“But you love my hugs” Vernon pouted and I rolled my eyes again as I leaned down and kissed his cheek, pulling away with a wide grin.

“I love everything about you, alright?” Vernon grinned back and was about to talk when stomping was heard and someone cleared their throat. Vernon’s expression fell and he was quick to let go of me so I turned my head to see Mingyu glaring at us. Great. I can’t wait to go home and not see Mingyu for two days, I’m about to cry, I swear.

“See you inside” Vernon patted my head before walking past Mingyu, leaving us alone, again. Traitor, I grimaced as I watched Vernon’s back until he was gone.

“It seems like you forgot what I told you not even an hour ago, sugar?” Mingyu stepped closer meanwhile I took a step back and glanced away.

“You told me it was okay--”

“This is an open place, anyone can see you, sugar” I raised my eyebrows as Mingyu kept coming closer.

“Well, no one was here, I made--”

“Maybe Jun was right, you are nothing but a pain in the ass. I should kill you.” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, eyes boring into mine as my mouth dropped open.

“What!?”

“If you can tell me just one occasion when you actually listened to me, I won’t have to debate whether to kill you or not” All emotion disappeared from Mingyu’s face as a smirk was plastered on his lips, a smirk I ached to punch off his soft and pink lips. My heart started beating quickly as I tried to read Mingyu, to understand if he’s fucking with me or if he actually means his words. I gulped as he looked at me expectantly and I started thinking of all the times he told me to do something, but I always...ignored him.

“You know” I stepped closer to him, deciding to ignore his words, “I could always run inside and tell them you will steal the ring before you have to pay for it. The place is full of undercover cops and well, other gangs. I’m sure neither would appreciate it”

I shrugged as I smiled at Mingyu, however a painful grip on my upper arm yanked me into him, making me grunt. Mingyu’s jaw was clenched as he looked into my eyes, my heels bringing me to eye level with him, his nose flaring.

“You still provoke me after I told you I’m thinking of killing you?” He looked so pissed that his chuckle was something between frustration and amusement.

“So then, kill me.” I clenched my jaw as I stared him in the eyes, challenging him to do it, “Let me guess, you can’t?”

Suddenly something hard was pressing into my stomach and I sucked in a sudden breath, wanting badly to glance down at the gun but refusing to give Mingyu the satisfaction of seeing me nervous. There was a click and I knew the safety was off. I could feel my hands shaking as my eyebrows furrowed as I searched Mingyu’s blank face. He wouldn’t do it, right? He can’t kill me, he likes me. Vernon’s words rang through my head and I gulped as Mingyu slowly started smirking, a devilish look crossing his features. I went to pull away from him but he kept me in place and suddenly there was a louder click as I gasped and closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to hit my body. I never said goodbye to Seungcheol or my parents, Vernon. When I felt nothing but numbness and nausea I opened my eyes to see Mingyu still smirking, gun still in his hand but not pointed at me anymore.

“You still think I can’t?” He whispered as he raised his eyebrows. My hands continued to shake as I pulled my arm out of his grip and managed to glare at him.

“I hope you root away in hell.” I whispered shakily as I raised my hand and slapped him across the cheek, the loud sound echoing around us. Mingyu just laughed as he didn’t look at me and caressed his cheek. I stormed off towards the entrance of the building, trying to hide my shaking hands.

The rest of the auction was a blur as my mind kept replaying the time when I kissed Mingyu and then it suddenly cut to the gun being pressed into me and the click of the trigger. A light ache crossed my stomach every time my mind wandered back to the memory and all I wanted to do was stand up, run home and throw up. I wanted to throw up and then take a hot shower, hopeful that it would wash away tonight. I feel like tonight’s events will have a big effect on our relationship and it surely won’t be for the best. I crossed every boundary Mingyu had and he proved it to me he wouldn’t hesitate in killing me, even if the gun wasn’t loaded. But before I could register what the host of the auction was saying, I was pulled from my seat, fur coat and purse tossed into my arms, as a firm grip guided me towards the exit and finally towards the parking lot. I wanted to see Seungcheol so badly, I wanted to hug him and just cry in his arms. I just needed comfort from my brother, the man who knows me better than anyone else. But before I could even cry out to him, I was pushed inside a white Mercedes, seatbelt forcefully secured and then the driver sat inside and started the car. I stared ahead, aware of the tension in the car, but unable to function properly anymore. Tonight was a disaster, mainly because of me, and I just want to delete it from my mind. The car glided through the lanes aggressively and suddenly I missed Wonwoo, who is a patient and calm driver. Mingyu was speeding at an ungodly speed, but I couldn’t be bothered to yell at him like I did so many other times. I was actually glad, I would get home faster and even faster away from him. The tires screeched when the Mercedes came to a stop, the force sending me a bit forward in my seat. I sighed as I undid the seatbelt and grabbed my fur coat and purse to open the door. As I pushed it open, the driver’s door was slammed closed and I closed my eyes for a second to prepare myself for another death threat. But my mind just wanted me to get away, so I tried to quickly close the door, without slamming it like the ungrateful little shit Mingyu did, and without a second thought took off towards the front door, thinking I could outrun Mingyu. But I barely took five big steps when I was pulled backwards, a loud groan leaving my lips.

“Tonight was shit, just please let me go up--” The wind got knocked out of my lungs at how aggressively Mingyu’s lips pressed against mine, my eyes widening. I’ve been thinking about doing this again tonight, but a part of me was finally scared of Mingyu. A part of me finally realized who I was dealing with. A dangerous, merciless, handsome mob leader, and he could kill me right now by using this kiss as a distraction and also muffling my lips from screaming--I pushed Mingyu away, eyes still wide as I could feel my hands shaking again.

“You can’t--you can’t just--”I tried to catch my breath and calm my hammering heart, “You can’t just point a gun at me, pull the trigger and then kiss me! I’m not an object you can just push around, bend to your wishes and use for pleasure! I’m sick of it all!”

The last statement came out as a choked up scream as I tried to keep the tears from falling, shaking my head at Mingyu as I slumped against his white car. Tonight really is a fucking nightmare.

“I’m sick of you constantly pushing me away! You’re making me crazy, Y/N!” Mingyu’s usually leveled voice rose octaves as he came uncomfortably close, making me look down.

“What if…” I bit my lower lip, trying to control the trembling in my voice, I was about to tell a lie and I needed to make it sound real, “What if I don’t like you? Will you still force yourself on me? Because then you really are a piece of shit.”

Sometime during these months, when Mingyu was nice and approachable, I discovered a softer side of him, a decent, human, side of him. A side that was immensely attractive, a side I found myself liking and wishing to see more often. He was driving me crazy too, because I didn’t know anymore if I was scared of him or excited to see him. At least, tonight, I had no fucking idea anymore.

“You like me” His answer was more of a let out breath, his lips curled in a simple smile, “I know you do.”

“No, I don’t!” I snapped, looking up at him irritated, “At least not tonight”

“You had to learn the hard way, sugar, it’s not my fault” Mingyu sighed and I huffed as I rolled my eyes.

“Right, point a gun at me and then pull the fucking trigger but surprise! It has no bullets. No. I’m not doing this, I just want to forget this stupid night and ignore you until you get bored and leave me the fuck alone!”

“I told you I will never leave your side” Mingyu whispered, a shit eating grin spread on his lips. It took the little self control I still had to not kick him in the shin as I glared at him.

“I will go to the police, I’ve really had enough of you!”

“Oh, no, I’m so scared!” Mingyu mocked a scared voice as he widened his eyes in fake fright, “As if the police could do anything”

“I’m sure the police can’t wait to get their hands on you and actually lock you up” It was my time to grin smugly at him, his expression instantly becoming pissed, “Oh the things I know…”

“I dare you” He stepped even closer, his body pressed against mine, pressing me into the Mercedes. I gulped as I ignored the shivering of my body and my still shaky hands, trying to keep my eyes glued to his.

“You know I have the guts to actually do it, don’t ask for something you can’t handle, Mingyu” I whispered watching him sigh, his breath hitting my face, before he licked his lips. Without thinking, I licked my lips as well and the action caught his attention making me curse myself. I was trying to avoid this moment, yet here we are, my eyes were closed before Mingyu could even lean in, my chin tilted for him. This time, his lips pressed lightly against mine, like when I tried to fake the kiss on the dance floor, and he waited for me to give my permission. When I pressed back my lips against his, his large palm went to my nape and held it firmly, our lips moving slowly. I felt bad for the expensive, white fur coat when it dropped from my hand as I went to thread my fingers through Mingyu’s hair. I raised my right hand and tried to find the roof of the Mercedes to place my purse on it, the kiss turning a lot needier than before. Finally finding it, I let the purse rest on the roof and quickly circled my right arm around his neck as I pulled Mingyu even closer, our lips parting as Mingyu tried to dominate the kiss. For the first time he didn’t fight back as I took over, our tongues dancing together as I hummed when his hand started to roam my back underneath Vernon’s suit jacket. I tugged on his hair when his grip on my nape became a bit too firm, warning him that I would end this make out if he didn’t stop with his power play. But the tug fueled something in Mingyu as his hand on my back traveled higher and suddenly started tugging Vernon’s jacket off, pressing continuous pecks against my lips. I ran out of air, lungs on fire, as I tried to tell him to stop, but he pressed a hard kiss against my lips and my complaint got swallowed as Vernon’s jacket fell off my shoulders. The coldness covered me in goosebumps as I latched onto Mingyu again, trying to warm myself. He pulled away, chest falling up and down at a quick pace, as he nibbled on my lower lip, his canines sinking into my lip. I opened my eyes and pulled my head back to stop him from kissing me again, but instead his lips started kissing my jaw, making me sigh.

“Do you want me to get pneumonia?” I mumbled as I grabbed his head with both hands, stopping him, “That suit jacket was the only thing keeping me warm.”

“That suit jacket is Vernon’s” Mingyu’s words were airy as he tried to catch his breath still, eyes glaring just slightly.

“So what?” I shrugged and went to pick it up but Mingyu pressed me up against the car again firmly, “Seriously? I’m freezing!”

“You will not wear Vernon’s or any other men’s clothes, yeah?” Mingyu raised his eyebrows as he searched my eyes and I smirked as I made eye contact with him. Little jealous piece of shit, I chuckled as I pushed Mingyu.

“Well, then I’m going up” I picked my fur coat up and reached for my purse, stepping around Mingyu.

“Yeah, we should go up before you get sick--”

“Oh no” I chuckled, turning back to face Mingyu, “You are not coming up with me, Mingyu”

“Why not, sugar?” He asked with a smirk as he bent to pick up Vernon’s suit jacket.

“Because I’m not sleeping with you tonight…” My eyebrows furrowed as the thought wasn’t as repulsive as it was a few months ago, “Or anytime else. Besides, you held an unloaded gun to my stomach and pulled the trigger--”

“Emphasis on unloaded” Mingyu pointed out as I rolled my eyes and started walking again towards the main entrance.

“I really hate you Mingyu”

“Vernon says you like me a lot--”

“You were eavesdropping?!” I squealed as I turned to face him again, “You’re a piece of shit!”

“I know, I know” Mingyu mumbled as he rolled his eyes and walked up to me, “Seems like you still have a thing for this piece of shit though”

“I do not!” I snapped and Mingyu chuckled before leaning down and pecking my lips.

“I will never ever again kiss you, so I hope tonight’s kiss will last you a lifetime of nightmares” Mingyu chuckled before he walked past me and dropped Vernon’s suit jacket into the trash bin.

“Mingyu!” My eyebrows furrowed as I shook my head at him, finally reaching the main entrance to the building.

“What? He can afford to buy another one”

“I really liked that jacket though…” I muttered as I entered the pass code and opened the door, stepping inside. I turned to see Mingyu glaring at me as I held the door open just enough for my head to peek out a bit, “Even though I have to admit that your outfit tonight was really hard to resist. Would love to see the rest of what’s underneath too”

My eyes traveled from Mingyu’s exposed chest down the rest of his body while biting my lower lip, to look up at a frozen Mingyu, jaw clenched. He suddenly started walking towards the door and I quickly closed it before he could reach it. I smirked when he glared at me and showed him my middle finger.

“I know the pass code” He warned, hand reaching to type in the numbers. I showed him my middle finger again before taking off towards the elevator to ride up to my floor. He will never get past my three locks on the door that I had installed yesterday.

Part 3

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