#and I dislike every one more than the last

[imhere4theart]

Hope you guys like this Reader! 🙏🫶

This Reader's power is osteokinesis, also known as bone manipulation; it allows the Reader to control every bone in their own body, also allowing them to grow new tissue and shift them any way they like. The downsides of this mutation is that the version Reader has is constantly active, as in they can feel every bone in their body, all at once, all the time. Not only that, but they can't shift their bones without feeling uncomfortable, or even use them without feeling pain- and the rest of their body can't heal from any wounds this creates.

Reader's Nickname: Marrow

My Reader wants to live a normal life. They consider themselves unlucky enough to be born in a society that rejects mutants, yet lucky enough to have a power that's not easily detectable, or as dangerous as the ones they see on the news. They see that the government as corrupt, but compared to terrorist groups like the Brotherhood come up with, or the trouble that the X-Men keep getting caught up in, are there any good options?

What is Marrow even supposed to do? Come out into the limelight? They aren't bright enough to know how to use their powers in secret! Fight back in the dark? Their power is painful to use in combat, so why would they go out of their way to find trouble?

(But when Marrow brings up these points, they can't help but feel like their only making excuses for themself...)

Marrow's power is a nagging thing, where they have to constantly feel every bone in their body, every day. Their power was useful when they broke their toe last week, and there was that other time they tried using it out of morbid curiosity, but other than that, no dice. Heck, they'll even go as far as to claim that there are people who need this power more than themself, (although they don't want to give anyone all the stress attached); not ever has Marrow broken a bone, and they can't use it for their cavities unless they want their dentist questioning why they needed fillings before.

Reader may be gullible, but they do know that it takes only one slip before being found out.

Otherwise, they see their power as gross, dangerous, and even nausea inducing on their worst days. Marrow would prefer to stay where their family is, where their life is, and not putting themself at risk by helping out strangers. Perhaps that sucks of them, but life itself has sucked long before they was born.

Besides, Marrow may be a mutant, but they do not consider themself a part of whatever conflict is happening right now, so unless a terrorist attack happens in their state or the government issues another "kill all mutants" movement, Reader's staying right where they is, thank you very much.

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Personality:

- Hates conflict, prefers to stay out of trouble.

- More of a follower than a "take charge" person. Pretty easy to manipulate if you're trusted.

- Tend to double-check their facts if they're unsure on something, but will get lazy if they can't find the information right away.

- Hates the silence, usually puts on a TV when alone. Always has some kind of headphones on.

- They have terrible spatial awareness, and don't really understand certain "cues." And once they get chubby with someone, they drop their guard pretty easily.

- While they love their friends and family, if there's an inner conflict or a moral dilemma involved in their inner circle, they struggle on who to choose.

Likes: - Caffeinated drinks - Reading and writing - Taking long walks with family/friends - Getting alone time - Listening to music -

Dislikes: - Conflict + Confrontation - Silence - Unwanted/unwarranted touch - Awkward social interaction - Getting behind on due dates -

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Fun fact: I was not feeling good about the world or myself when I wrote Marrow's character! :D So the result I got on Honey's next challenge made me laugh ironically, but it also made me feel better.

Another fun fact: I was actually trying to avoid getting a body horror esque, possibly painful mutation, so the fact I got exactly that not only made me flabbergasted but also that it should've been expected. Can't say I'm upset about it! XD

Anyways, thank you again @honey-minded-hivemind for the challenge! I'll be back with more Reader's soon!

I'm going to try a challenge for our little group, where we take this quiz and create your insert!

(You can use your Tumblr name/nickname, your actual name, or whatever you want your insert/Reader/OC to be called!)

I'll go first-

Meet Honey, a mutant with superhuman agility and senses, who is on the run from the mutants out to get them... They like to eat chicken and rice, love cats and birds and foxes, and make nests out of their blankets and stuffed animals...

Tagged y'all, now you're it ♡: @sugar-soda @thewickedweiner @vivid-bun @danniloversugar @hermesserpent-stuff @crow-crystal @crowwithguns @wolvesbane1984 @milkbean69 @weebwholovesuchihasasuke @opossumdaydreamz @chaoticlovingdreamer @bluemoonice @bloodytea @maybe-im-dark

[mullermilkshake]

Scold's bridal

Part 1 <- -> Part 2

Last minute notes to add to your thesis.

Curator!Kento Nanami x Fem! Reader DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,Restraints,Sexualising/ glorifying torture methods,Scold's bridle,Coercion,Blackmail,Manipulation,Exhibition

<<< For more content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

I did research, but I'm no historian, if there's inconsistencies, please let me know <3

It wasn’t unknown to your colleagues about your dislike for Kento Nanami.

A character of aloofness and pure sadism with his words and interests surrounding his craft. He enjoyed the devices he taught and spoke about. He loved the clouded gaze on a woman’s face when he spoke of such terrors no one should have ever endured.

There were many tools used for torture. Nanami had assess to every one of them inside the Tokyo museum. The only blessing working in such an environment was that it was far too big to cross paths frequently and you stayed as far away as possible. He appeared to leave you alone too.

But every so often, the two of you were inevitably in the same room professionally. And that disgusted you.

There was just something about him that unsettled you though you imagined he wasn’t the most horrid man in the world outside of work. A puny spark in your gut prevented you from testing the theory whenever he accompanied the team out for drinks.

Which was most of the time.

“This was used to silence women during the seventeenth century. It was to prevent them from speaking entirely as a form of punishment.” The entire room sat in silent anticipation as he spoke.

You however sat tucked in the corner making notes. Mostly uninterested doodles, this subject being an odd part of your thesis that was essential to getting the recognition you needed. From everyone including Kento Nanami.

“Humility was enough to keep them from speaking out of turn or nagging individuals; possible gossip in the town and spreading words that others could view as rumours.”

One woman in the front you noticed hesitantly held her arm up. Nanami noticed her immediately with his narrowed eyes like prey. “Yes?”

“Did it hurt? Uh… like wearing it all day?”

“It was incredibly painful. The mouthpiece was often accompanied by a spike to compress the tongue to keep them from speaking. Sort of a way to show where their place was in society and it was not spilling town secrets or news of affairs.”

You weren’t paying any sort of attention like you should have. It was obvious that the pompous prick would have taken pleasure in hurting someone like that, it made you sick the way he got excited over torture, like he would done it himself in another lifetime.

The whole thing was barbaric and it bewildered you how someone could chose such a macabre topic to study and teach inside the museum. There were plenty of simpler and more teachable categories that would prove useful for collages and a students thesis work than this… horror show.

Yet people were always interested in it. That was a fact you never understood.

Your name was called. It was just the way he glared at you sometimes, like there was plenty more he had to say in the dim room in front of anybody else who happened to be standing there, though he never did. 

“Can you come up here and hold this please?” He held up the scold's bridle between his fingers.

You knew he’d use that in the bedroom if he was given the chance. Sick fuck.

Just the way he looked at you. So much to say. What unnerved you more was the simple lack of control his eyes appeared to have, as though he was undressing you in his putrid mind or thinking of what to do with you that wasn’t by any stretch of the mind professional.

But, there was a room full of people as his audience. He wouldn't do a thing to you whilst there were here, despite your gut screaming to you that he would. The rest of the room observed you, turning their heads and watching, some judging as you placed your note book down, smoothed down your skirt as you rose and tip toed towards him. A lot of the women who came in this tour always had doe eyes for Nanami. Those were the ones silently giving you judgemental glances as you got closer to him. 

Ugh, if any of you want to be more than three feet next to him, be my guest. 

“Right,” He lifted the bridle to show the room. “I’ll show you a quick application before we move onto the next room and conclude the tour.”

It was getting late, the last tour of the night and- what? An application to put that thing in his hands on… you? Not a chance in hell were you letting him get that close. Close enough to touch you.

It seemed like he not only read your body language but also your mind. “Please don’t be alarmed. This is a replica.” He pulled out another from behind his podium.

“This is not fitted with anything that will hurt you. I promise.” It sounded reassuring enough, but still.

The eyes in the room were scolding your have enough with the humiliation of even entertaining him. But, you supposed if you got it over with, then you could get your things together early and leave before he was even finished with the tour. That way he couldn’t speak with you after about the tour itself. He wouldn't ask what you thought of it, his top conversing skill no doubt and you couldn’t care less to entertain him further.

“A-alright.”

“Okay.” He came closer within your personal space, opened the steel casing with a creak and slyly shifted your hair out of the way to give your neck a subtle tingle with his fingertips.

“So the mouthpiece was inserted first, sitting in place so the neck peice and headband could be securely fastened in place.”

It took you a moment to let the plate past your lips, the smooth crescent shape was nothing to fear, but you could definitely sense a slither of what those women felt all those years ago.

You looked to him for reassurance again, and he did with one curt nod. The plate come into contact, the icy material pressuring your teeth and tongue until it started to adjust to your body heat quickly.

The metal bands wrapped round and clicked into place. At least it was not padlocked so you could get out of it when you wanted, a small mercy you hadn’t put past Nanami to- click. What the hell was that? You felt the back noticing the rather weighty padlock attached. He placed the key my ontop of the podium and moved behind you, a chain to he had a fucking chain?

How many people did he have to ask to actually get to show this and you were the stupid mug that agreed. Everyone watched and all you wanted was for a large hole to suck you up and eat you.

You wanted out. You fucking wanted out.

The key was sitting there all shiny and calling your name to take it. But before you could, Nanami took a hold of the bridle and brought you back two steps.

“Now, when women were paraded in the streets, it wasn’t uncommon for their husbands to chain them up for a time in the middle of town so others could see them, often throwing insults or verses of the bible at them.”

Another woman threw her hand up, more eager now that you were chained to the wall. “How long would they stay there for?”

“It depends what the crime was to fit the punishment. Sometimes it was blasphemy, and that warranted a harsh time. Perhaps hours, maybe even for a day being taken out to town with no food or water.”

The group chatted amongst themselves. You just stood there in shock. “Well I think this is a great time to go one to the last part of the tour, it’s getting late.” 

He glanced at his watch and then at you as the group got to their feet and moaned a little for its end. “The keys on the podium, get out of that thing and meet us in the next room. Don’t take too long.”

You gave him no courtesy of acknowledgement, only waited for him and his thirsty group to leave so you could de-humiliate yourself in peace from prying eyes.

Only, that was if you could reach the key. The idiot left you out of reach and you couldn’t even hook the damn thing with your shoe or foot for added length. He was a stupid idiot. Now the element of panic set in and you couldn’t call for help. The plate compressed your tongue it almost made you gag. 

You rummaged through your pockets for your phone but even that was where you things were, right in the corner of the room. If you recalled you didn’t even have his number. You would need to rely on his impatience after the tour to hopefully come looking for you.

He would come looking for you. Him or a custodian, though how would you even explain that? That Nanami left you and buggered off home.

No. He would come looking for you.

He would.

Possibly.

But he did, you noticed his presence immediately, like a deer to a hunter you turned and saw him leant against the door frame cleaning his glasses.

“It seems like you’re in a little bit of a bind. Doesn’t it?”

You huffed at him, as was the only way to audibly communicate. The hands thrown on your hips with a heavy tap, tap, tap of your foot ought to give him enough evidence that you were less than impressed with his actions.

Just get the damn key and get this shit off of my head already. You pointed to the key, another obvious statement.

He slide his glasses on his face and skulked over towards you, footsteps echoing off the parquet flooring. The dim overhead lights made him seem like a supervillain from those movies you hated, casting shadows over the high peaks of his cheekbones.

“As entertaining as this is, before I take that off, I have some questions I’d like for you to answer. Can you do that?”

You audibly growled in his direction, you couldn’t answer even if you actually wanted to. Fiddling with the bridle and shaking the chain and padlock was the only answer you had.

“Why do you avoid me so much?” It wasn’t innocent. His question did not spark any sense of upset or hurt to the point he had been wanting to ask you for some time.

No. It was just a morbid curiosity.

You could see it in his eyes. And of course you couldn’t answer. “Is it that you just don’t like me?”

I can’t stand you, even more so now. 

Though before you could shake your head, he spoke again. “Or is it that you’re sexually intimidated?”

What the hell? No way was that the case. You found Nanami weird and odd for liking torture as much as he did, that it seemed to set him off talking about degrading women and then actually degrading women like this. You refused to believe that he was married or had a partner in some capacity just because of the way he spoke of people in history. 

It was clear to you every time his eyes would glow up like a child on a special holiday whenever there were new artefacts or transcripts depicting this stuff, like they were his own presents he got to share with everybody.

You shook your head before he could come up with any more elusive theories of why you wanted to be no nowhere near him.

“You don’t have to lie to yourself.” Another step towards you and then he’d have a chance to touch you. “It’s always fascinated me how spoiled you are.”

Spoiled? You were not spoiled.

He exhaled through his nose in amusement. “You are. I see it every time the Director looks at you.”

The Director? Masamichi Yaga was a kind man who gave you the freedom of picking your own path. That’s why you were in the same room as Nanami tonight, to add a singular part to your thesis that you chose. It wasn’t assigned to you like some of the other staff were.

Nanami noticed your frown and ran his fingertip down the length of your nose that made you shoot back away from him frowning even deeper.

“Yes you are. He spoils you and you may not even see it. But I know if you went to his office now and propositioned him, he’d lock the door and have you over his desk with your skirt up in an instant.”

Ew. No. That wouldn’t happen. But if it did, why did it bother him? As he got within your proximity again, you backed away in tandem with his own footsteps.

You wanted the bridle off, but he had to get so close in order for that to happen.

Fuck. 

“Why does that bother me?” Now he was just talking to himself. “Well, because I see the way you look at me too, like you’d do anything to get out of the room I’m in. That's why you never come for drinks after work if I’m there and how lacklustre you are in my presence.”

Another step. “I know you can’t stand me and to be quite frank with you. I enjoy it.”

All this time you were avoiding him and it was fuelling the fire? Shit.

“I think we should go for a drink after this, I want to see just how much you loathe me.”

Not a chance. You knew your limits and if you had a few or possibly got tipsy, then it wouldn’t just be talking. You would tell him exactly what you thought of him and probably end up hate fucking him in the public bathroom.

You could not hold your drink very well and besides Nanami going, that was the main reason you didn’t frequent the bar with the other staff members.

So, you shook your head.

“You can’t reach that key, so it’s up to me to get you out. Unless you want to wait for the night watchman, or a custodian to let you out? Would be pretty hard if I took the key though. Would be pretty embarrassing.”

Why the hell was he blackmailing you like this? If he took that key, they would need a locksmith to come out if they had no bolt cutters and what museum would have a pair of bolt cutters on hand?

You’d be in this uncomfortable thing all night, and in the morning. Fuck it was Saturday… there’d be no one coming out until Monday. What if you were stuck in this thing forever?

No way.

No fucking way. 

Coercion was a trait that made you hate him all the more. But what actual choice did you have?

So you nodded, reluctantly enough you couldn’t even look at him. But he kept his word at least and brought the key to unlock the bridle.

“There, that’s better.”

You shot around to face him with utter fire in your eyes. “One drink, and I never want to be in the same room as you again. Are we clear?”

“Of course. But something tells me otherwise.”

“I doubt that.” You shot off to grab your belongings in the corner, ready for one drink and one hell of a chat with the director in the morning.

You wanted Nanami fired immediately and wanted him gone from your life entirely. He was in no way professional enough to talk about the things that interested him. Kento Nanami was just as deranged as you took him for at face value.

More predatory than the animal exhibits the museum held.

And for some reason he had you in his sights.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[southsidewrites]

Starting to feel a bit insane for this take, but I think I may be the only person in the world who can't stand Gina R*driguez.

[ghstzzn]

helping hand

pairing: bsf!lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: heeseung had an unusual ritual before every competition as a professional league of legends player. one that his ex-girlfriend could no longer fulfill for him, leaving him desperate enough to ask for your help as his best friend.

tags/warnings: SMUT! MDNI! barely proofread lol, heeseungs a professional gamer… idk shit about that tho, you’re his best friend, league of legend mention, oral (m. rec), face fucking, deepthroating obv, praise? heeseung whimpers and whines here and there, name calling bc he calls her a perv hehe, reader touches herself and orgasms bc of his whimpering, cum swallowing, first time writing JUST a blowjob & ball fondling hehe and more probably! [3.3k words]

🖤: im so scared this was only supposed to be like 1k words but i cant shut the fuck up ever.

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!

it’s been awhile since you’ve had heeseung linger around your apartment for hours or even days like this. between his time spent with his now ex girlfriend and his professional gaming career, you had rarely seen him. only relying on occasional short lunch meetings or quick coffee runs.

it’s not that his ex disliked you, but more so disliked that you and heeseung happened to be an extremely attractive pair of friends and hated that people would confuse you both as a couple rather than heeseung and her.

you missed your best friend, and it comforted you that he returned those feelings. 

before heeseung had stepped foot into a relationship with his ex, he would spend half of his time at your apartment. especially when he had a competition that was near. 

“are you nervous?” you ask him, watching as he packs little things he left at your apartment into a small suitcase for the gaming league. it was only one city away but these sorts of things take an entire weekend. 

heeseung hums, “i’m confident.” you know he’s not lying either. there’s not much you know about gaming, or specifically, league of legends—but according to your mutual friends, heeseung seems to be a god at the game. yet, he seemed so antsy about something.

“so what are you gonna do about your little pre-competition ritual,” you hope to lighten his mood, easing him of whatever that was on his mind.

“what ritual?”

you clear your throat, “oh, um. your blowjob ritual..?”

the question was asked in a light hearted way, but heeseung didn’t react in such a way at all. the ritual, as you called it, was something heeseung accidentally created a few years ago when he had first gone pro. his situationship at the time gave him head right before he left as a sexy goodluck and a reminder of what he had waiting for him when he got back, but that day he had carried and won the competition for his entire team. 

the next year after that he had gotten with his girlfriend and had shyly asked her to suck him off, to which she agreed and it had officially become a routine for every competition, including smaller, less meaningful ones.

“you okay, hee?” 

“can i ask you something?” he suddenly speaks up, voice way louder than he intended, causing the both of you to cringe at the volume. “s-sorry.. i just need to ask you something.”

you nod slowly, “yeah, anything. is everything okay?”

heeseung thinks for a few moments before speaking again, “it’s a little personal and it’s okay if you are uncomfortable with this and you absolutely do not have to say yes but i need to at least ask you.”

“heeseung just say it.”

“can you give me a blowjob before my competition this weekend?”

your reaction comes in three stages. the both of you stare at each other in silence for about three minutes before you burst out in laughter, which also lasts about three more minutes. but when you see heeseungs panicked expression, you go silent again.

“wait… seriously?” 

heeseung swallows before shaking his head timidly. he debated laughing along with you and passing it off as a complete joke but he felt the need to follow through. the room is silent again. your fingers subconsciously play with the zipper on his suitcase as you think about the question he just proposed to you. 

your best friend, whom you’ve experienced half your life with, just asked you if you could give him head before one of his league of legends competitions.

what was the right answer here?

“you.. you don't have to,” heeseungs heart feels like it’s about to fall out of his chest. why on earth would he ask such a thing to his only female friend? no less, his best friend.

it was a joke. yeah, a joke! oh my god, why would i ask that, you pervert! you should’ve seen your face! you guys joke like this all the time, this is no different. he could totally play this off coolly. 

“it’s fucking stupid, i know. but it seriously helps me and you know she would do it for me everytime.” he begins rambling without even realizing it. the air is so thick you would have to take a chainsaw to it. “y-you aren’t her, yeah, but i don’t know—it genuinely gets me through the competitions.”

heeseung lets out a shaky breath, “just forget it. ignore what i said.”

“well, no heeseung,” you cut him off, “i can’t just forget that you seriously asked me something like that.”

“please don’t make this awkward. you can say no and we can forget this happened.”

you could tell heeseung wanted to rip his tongue out, and to see your best friend this distressed over something so silly made you want to drop everything and get rid of those feelings for him. 

“i mean, i never said no, did i..?” 

heeseung looks up, meeting your gaze with a shocked expression, “what?”

“yeah,” you nod, “it doesn’t hurt to think about it, right? it’s not like you’re asking me to completely fuck you—a blowjob wouldn’t hurt us right? especially if it’s going to help you.”

he blinks. heeseung might think you’re going insane, and he’s the one that asked you for the blowjob. no way you were actually considering this for him.

what did he do in his past life to gain such a supportive, pretty best friend.

“so… you’ll think about it?” your best friend's voice is quiet when he asks, like he’s scared to speak up any louder. “like, seriously?”

“yeah,” nodding your head, you flash him a reassuring smile. agreeing to suck off your friend before his professional video game competition, a totally normal request.

when heeseung leaves your apartment, you immediately cuss yourself out. why the fuck would you practically agree to that? 

but when you think about telling the boy no, your heart cracks. why? you don’t know. but what you do know is that you would rather die than look at his big sad brown eyes when you tell him you can't give him a special blowjob for his special day.

you were no pro at sucking dick, but you were dedicated to this friendship.

heeseung bounced his leg with nervousness and anticipation. you texted him that you were on the way to his hotel, which would’ve been normal and completely fine considering you attend all of his comps, but today was different.

you never answered his question.

he wonders if maybe you forgot about it. he also hopes you didn’t forget. ever since he asked you the big question, heeseung couldn’t get you out of his mind.

every night leading up to today, he’d lie awake staring at his ceiling trying to push every image of you sitting pretty between his legs out of his mind. the feeling of his cock hardening to the thought of you made him want to dive out of the nearest window.

it’s not like he didn’t think you were hot or that the idea of being intimate with you disgusted him, but it’s the fact that he promised to never be like every other guy.

the two of you were very close. from cuddling while watching movies to holding hands in a crowded area to heeseung beating up creepy men at dive bars for you—you both had a tight knit friendship. and he always promised that he would never cross that line. he might be a total loser but he liked to consider himself a gentleman at the same time.

that day, he did. yet you were still attending something that meant the world to him when you could’ve told him to fuck off and die.

four knocks at the door rips heeseung away from his thoughts.

with sweaty hands and knees that felt like jelly, heeseung grips the door knob and opens it, plastering the fakest smile he could muster up. “hey.” did his voice crack? fuck my life. 

“hi!” you hold up two bags filled with a variety of snacks with a large smile on your face, “i brought some stuff for this weekend.”

he clears his throat and steps to the side, letting you enter his hotel room. heeseung averts his gaze to the ceiling as you walk by him, afraid of letting his eyes stay on you–what if he accidentally looks at your ass?

“what time does it start today?” you ask, completely unaware of the emotional distress your male best friend was going through. so nonchalant and unmoving. maybe you did forget afterall. 

heeseung takes a seat at the desk in his hotel room, where he had a temporary p.c. set up in case he needed a practice game. “uhh, it’s at six this time.”

“jeez… you guys won't be leaving until late then.” you glance at the clock and back to him. he has to leave very soon. how do you casually start giving your best friend a blowjob within the next fifteen minutes.

“yeah, you know of all people that these things can go for hours. you’re gonna be there for the last few rounds right?”

you nod, wondering if heeseung could notice the way you’re practically gawking at him. was he always this hot? it’s stupid question when you’re fully aware of how attractive heeseung was and currently is. maybe it was the way he was dressed up for his competition tonight, or the way he leaned back on his hands and spread his legs comfortably. 

the baggy black hoodie that you knew he was wearing by itself with nothing underneath paired with his baggy jeans that sat so perfectly on his hips. you were fully aware that you were checking out your best friend. he’s fucking hot, why else would you agree to do any of this?

you wonder if he’s thought about this as much as you have. is he nervous? is he vocal? how long does it take for him to get hard and how big is he?

“hey,” you don’t know where the confidence is coming from, but you find yourself kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees, “you’re gonna do great and win this. like you always do. i’ll make sure of it.”

heeseung almost chokes on his own spit when you suddenly slip between his legs, “wha- what are you doing..?”

“did you not want my help? or did you forget?” you ask him, genuine confusion. “i-if you already-”

“no!” heeseung cuts you off, grabbing your hand with his. “i mean, i still do. i just didn’t think you were down.”

you rub your other hand up his thigh, fingers mere centimeters away from his crotch area. so close to where he needs you, yet so far. “of course i am. what good are best friends if they can’t help each other out?”

heeseungs breath hitches when your hand grazes the zipper of his jeans. he lets go of your other hand and you take it as a cue to keep going.

“just let me take care of you, hee.”

and for the first time ever, that nickname made his cock twitch.

just the view he had of you sitting pretty between his thighs, hesitant but still full of confidence as you softly palmed him through his jeans was enough for him to be leaking.

“can i…” you ask quietly, fingers on the button of his jeans. he nods once and gulps as you immediately pop the button open and move to the zipper. it feels like hours before you’re finally pulling his jeans down below his hips. 

you can’t lie and say the bulge of his hardening cock, covered by his calvin kleins, wasn’t making your mouth water. you push his hoodie up slightly, the way your cold fingertips hit his lower stomach as you grab the waistband of his boxers has his stomach tensing under your touch. you let out a small gasp when his cock almost springs out of his boxers.

your best friend is packing. 

heeseung almost chuckles when he catches your reaction. 

“don’t laugh.”

“i’m not.”

“i can see it!” you argue back.

heeseung rolls his eyes, “please just continue.” 

“i won't if you keep up that attitude. you know we have less than fifteen minutes.” you retort after hearing him scoff. 

“i can miss rehearsals.”

“heeseu-”

“god, please let me just fuck your mouth.”

oh my god? were you supposed to be turned on? you bite your lip and look down in his lap, taking his cock in your hand with a soft but firm grip. you lean forward and let spit slowly drip from your mouth as you start pumping him. 

heeseung lets out a quiet groan and you look up at him—wide eyes that are practically asking, is this good? you continue to gently fist his cock, getting him nice and hard before you start using your mouth on his. 

“i hope you win.” is all you say before you kiss his tip and sink your mouth onto him.

the boy is practically seeing stars. you just started and he’s already moaning like a bitch. it felt so good, he can’t rip his gaze from you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly and your cheeks hollow out as you literally suck him in. 

“fuck, like that…” his hand finds sanctuary wrapped around your hair, not yet pushing you down on his cock completely, but more so as guidance. 

you let go out his cock with a pop and continue pumping him with your fist, licking the underside of his base as you make direct eye contact. he lets out a groan and lets his head fall back.

“you don’t have to hold back heeseung,” you mumble, but the lust was evident in your tone. “don’t be gentle, this is for you.”

“holy fuck, don’t say that.” you giggle at his response and smile against his tip before taking him back into your mouth. heeseung grips your hair tighter and pushes you further down his cock per your request. he can hear you inhale deeply through your nose as you attempt to take all of him. but of course you can’t. 

you stroke what you can’t fit and let heeseungs hand guide you up and down his cock. he uses all self control to not thrust into your mouth. heeseung hisses through his teeth every time your lips tighten around the tip of his dick, feeling somewhat more sensitive than he usually is. 

a guttural moan rips from his throat when your hand comes up to squeeze his balls, offering a helping hand in making him cum soon. time was ticking. but heeseung did not care whatsoever, especially after that move.

he almost wishes he knew how fucking good you were at giving head before all of this. your mouth was so warm, wet and tight around his cock–he was in heaven. heeseung genuinely thinks this is one of the best blowjobs he’s ever gotten. his hips buck, suddenly pushing his cock deep inside of your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. you cough around his cock in surprise but it only spurs your best friend on.

maybe it was the fact that you’re his best friend. sure, it’s not taboo by any means, but there are lines that are never to be crossed in these sorts of relationships–holy shit, heeseung was on cloud 9. 

“oh my god,” he whines, “you’re so good at this. fuck–god, don’t stop.”

his words, his moans, his whines–they all send tingles down your spine and straight to your core. you can’t deny the throb in your cunt though. 

you continue to squeeze and fondle his balls as you let heeseung completely guide your head deeper onto his cock, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth halfway. your other hand grips his thigh, keeping you stable and relaxed as he abuses your throat with the head of his cock. 

the groan that leaves your mouth when he tugs your hair tighter is accidental, you look up at heeseung. he looks beautiful like this. a pink blush across his cheeks, damp forehead, and hazy eyes. you were surely dripping through your panties now. 

“yeah? you like t-this too, huh?” heeseung spits out. now you’re almost jealous of every woman he’s managed to pull, because fuck did that just turn you on even more. “want me to use your mouth however i want?”

you moan in response, nodding your head. heeseung lets out a long exhale as he shoves your head down his cock again. tears line your eyes and threaten to spill over, trying to relax your throat to take him completely. 

“y-you’re taking me so good, y’know that? so good, baby.”

immediately, your hand that was once on heeseungs thigh is making its way down and into your shorts. you were soaked. 

heeseung lets out another choked moan when he notices your hand in your shorts, circling your clit as you let him fuck your throat. how badly he also wishes you would just take those stupid shorts off and let him see exactly what you’re doing, he yearns to see you play with yourself one day. 

“playing with yourself while you let me use this pretty mouth…” heeseung groans, lifting your head for a mere second before pushing you down his cock again. your hand tightens around his balls and he almost whimpers at the sensation. “you like this just as much, fucking pervert.”

you let out a whine, tears falling down your cheeks, you were already so close.

heeseung gets rougher, guiding your head much faster than before. your lips were burning and there was spit completely covering your other hand. but still, you continue to suck and lick at his cock as if it were your last meal, letting him force his way down your throat. 

“‘m so close. so fucking close.” now you're both whimpering. “fuckfuckfuck, gonna cum soon, baby. keep going, please, hah–you feel so fucking good.”

his words were enough for you to hit your peak, an orgasm washing through your body immediately. you’re squirming and whining, sending vibrations down heeseungs cock. 

“ah, fuck,” he continues to let words fall out of his mouth in the form of broken moans, “y-yeah, ‘ts so good. feels so good.” heeseung suddenly pushes your head all the way down, your nose making contact with the soft hair as the base of his cock, and he cums. 

thick, hot ropes of cum covering the back of your throat. you’re gagging and choking at the full feeling, wanting to pull back so badly, but he doesn’t stop–not until he’s milked dry. 

after what feels like an eternity, he lets go and you pull back, gasping and coughing but swallowing most of his cum in the process. your hands fly to your neck as you massage it and catch your breath.

heeseung on the other hand was breathing heavily. that was the best orgasm he’s ever had.

“holy fuck.”

you look up at the male, who seemed like he was about to pass out, “hee, you have to go.” your voice is raspy and weak. 

“i can’t.” he responds, out of breath. “that was amazing. i can’t move.”

you stand up and pull him up with you, balancing him when he stumbles forward. “seriously, you have to go now.” now you’re putting his cock away for him, he hisses loudly at the feeling but you ignore it and zip up his jeans. “now.”

heeseung sighs and looks down at you, “did you.. get off like that?”

you tighten your lips and nod hesitantly.

“god. god, you’re amazing.” he breathes out, wanting nothing more than to throw you down on the bed and fuck you until he physically cannot. “please, please be here when i get back, i’m literally begging you.”

you nod at him, reassuring him that you’ll be here when he’s done as you usher him out of the hotel room. “i will, hee. just go.” you suppose this is what best friends are for after all.

“and do not show up to the comp tonight or i will be hard the entire fucking time.”

[jackleopard]

discovering that one of the terribly written/money cash "taylor inspired" books was written by emily wibberley and austin siegemund-broka is the thing that's finally releasing me from the hold they've had on me despite me only enjoying ONE book of theirs in 2019

[bbokicidal]

So Bitter, So Sweet. .:. SKZ [H.JS]

Genre : Smut Pairing : Han Jisung x Fem!Reader Warnings : Dom!Jisung, Sub!Reader, Hate Sex, Hair pulling, PinV (wrap it, folks), pussy spanking, bruising

Kinktober Day 5 of 10 : Hate Sex w/ Han Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 4K

This was supposed to be Day 5 of Kinktober 2024 but I had discontinued the series due to personal reasons at the time. So... Here, have it 5 months later.

“I actually have a presentation for media studies I have to work on tonight, so I really can’t…”

Chris blinks at the comment about a presentation. Media Studies? He had that class with you and he was pretty sure you didn’t have a presentation for that class. There wasn’t even class today, what were you talking about? His brow crinkles in confusion and his nose scrunches up as he looks over at you, opening his big fat mouth and blowing your cover. “I don’t think we have a– Ngh!” His sentence is cut short when your hand collides with his abdomen, knocking the wind from him enough to shut him up. It was too late, though; He’d spilled too much.

“..So… you’re lying just to get out of coming to the party.” Minho’s eyes slowly drag from where his friend is doubling over at your side to you instead. “Is there a reason you don’t want to go or are you just one of those types of people?” He knew you weren’t but he asked anyway.. You’d come to parties he had held before so what was keeping you from coming to this one? It was Halloween - Basically the biggest parties of the year, other than New Years, were held on Halloween!

“I don’t like Jisung.” Your answer is plain and simple. You hadn’t liked Jisung since you met him. He played so sweetly with the boys; Kissed their cheeks, helped them with homework, and he was all smiles and laughs when he was with them. But as soon as you came around he would shut down and his precious little eye smile would turn into a glare pointed in your direction - which led you to assume that the dislike was mutual.

Jisung blinks heavily beside Minho, brows both cocking upward as if he’s surprised by the statement. He stares down at his hands, twisting a ring to fit right on his finger. “Let me just go fuck myself,” He comments shortly after and Changbin shifts on the other side of him, eyeing the younger man as if silently trying to get him to back down. “What the fuck did I ever do to you?” Jisung looks directly at you then, not shying away from the heavier conversation.

You scoff as if finding it ridiculous that he doesn’t know. Is he playing dumb, or is he actually an idiot? “You’re an asshole every time I’m around you. You won’t even look at me half of the time and when you do you just sit and brood. And either way - I don’t need a specific reason to dislike someone. Maybe I just hate your face.” That was… one of the biggest lies you had ever told. Jisung was far from ugly; He has big round eyes, soft cheeks, soft features in general really and he looked like a prince who had stepped right out of a Disney movie. He was gorgeous, actually, but you’d never say that to his face given his ugly personality. All of that, all of his behavior towards you, had simply ruined his image for you. “Remember last week?”

“Last week? Oh, God - You’re still whining about that?” Jisung’s eyes narrow over in your direction, his glare as heavy as your own. 

You scoff once more, anger bubbling in your chest. Chris reaches to rest a hand gently between your shoulder blades, ready to guide you away if the situation turns left. “You poured alcohol on me just because you could - right after I said I was going to talk to a guy I like. That was a dick move, Han!” You point a finger at the man and he smirks at your heated demeanor. Chris’ hand becomes guiding, giving a gentle push to steer you away from the three men before Jisung had a chance to bite back at you. 

He offers a shaky smile to the three, keeping his eyes directed towards Minho and Changbin in hopes he can clear this up at least a little while Jisung calms himself down. Or… tried to. “I’ll.. figure something out with her, okay? Expect us to be there.” Chris chuckles, his voice wavering with uncertainty before he fumbles quietly with the last bit before he walks away with you. “There’snopresentation.”

Minho gives a heavy sigh as his eyes draw to Jisung who seethes between himself and the third, blinking slowly at the younger. Jisung glances up and glares, his snarl looking almost like a pout on plush lips. “She drives me crazy sometimes-! I never poured anything on her on purpose.”

“I can tell,” Minho’s eyes rolled. “You need to tone it down. There’s no reason for you two to have this bad of a relationship with each other. Maybe you should’ve just explained that to her when you had the chance?”

“She never gives me an opportunity to clear it up,” Jisung scowls. “She’s ridiculous.”

Changbin claps a hand on the younger’s back before moving it up to grip at the nape of his neck, giving a subtle squeeze as he pushes Jisung forward to keep walking. “You almost laughed at her anger - right in her face. Don’t think you’re making the best impression.” When Jisung turns to bite back at that comment, Changbin forces him to face forward and keep walking by the grip he had on the other’s neck. “Ah; Keep walking. We’re not having this discussion right now. You two need to talk it out. I’m not involved.”

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to tie a tie.” Your fingers laced carefully through the small knot you had created with the carefully sewn fabric, pulling it through and tightening it with care. The tie sits neatly against the white button up Chris wore, contrasting so perfectly yet matching with the long coat he had on over top. “Aren’t you like twenty five or something?”

“Twenty-six.” Chris smiles, his lips forming a straight line and quirking up at the corners that makes his cheeks dimple heavier than normal. It makes you smile as well, the sight of his face squishing of its own accord. “And I do know how to tie a tie; I just wanted a pretty girl close to me.” His eyes drop from where they had been looking over your head to peer right at you instead. You sigh out a soft laugh through your nose and give a small shake of your head. Ever the flirtatious one, you knew Chris meant nothing by it; He was always calling you pretty, always sticking close to your side, always protective. You were his best friend so of course he was always going to be showering you with compliments; You did the exact same thing. 

As you take a step back and pivot on your heel to look, Chris lets his head tip in the mirror. “What exactly are you supposed to be, again? A businessman?” Your eyes drag over his choice of clothing and he giggles at the assumption, shaking his head in a manner that makes his hair fall down into his eyes. The one white contact made him a little scarier than usual.

“I’m a sexy vampire!” Chris exclaims as if it should be obvious. He turns to look at you, extending his arms and then giving a little turn just to show off. He giggles shortly after when he realizes you’re laughing at him, one hand pressed over your mouth in adoration. You had the stupidest yet cutest best friend in the world. “Can’t you tell?”

Your giggles subside as you answer him, keeping one hand pressing to your lips while you look him over. “Aren’t vampires usually wearing, like, Victorian era clothing or something? The shirts with the ruffles, the high waisted pants… I’ve never seen a vampire in a suit before, I don’t think.”

“Okay, well then I’m a sexy vampire in a suit.” His head turns back to the mirror and he smiles, pushing the little fangs he wore over his bottom lip with a grin. Stupidest yet cutest. “You’re ripping on my outfit but what are you?”

You had just tugged your jacket on as you looked over, listening to him question your own outfit. “A sexy nun; Duh.” He should’ve been able to tell by the veil you wore but apparently that one white contact took away some of his vision. Which also explained why he nearly walked into the doorway on his way out of your dorm, smoothing his hair back to play it off while you laughed. “Go, go.” You shoo him out into the hallway, turning to shut and lock the door behind you as you took your leave.

The drive to the party is short, given it’s only on the other side of campus - but Chris insists on driving you two because he doesn’t want you walking in the chilled night air wearing that outfit. You’d be cold even with your jacket and he can’t subject you to that! So he hops in the car, heats the seats and carefully navigates his way down a few blocks before finding a parking spot across the street. The two of you peek out the driver’s window to look at the house the party is being held in. Minho had snagged one of the nicer, smaller places on campus and all he had to do to get it was find three willing roommates to move in with him; Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung.

The windows of the house are flooded with lights colored orange, red, white, and green while music pounds at the walls and threatens to bring them down. The outside is decorated with Jack-o-lanterns and leaf bags colored orange with faces on them, a skeleton dressed in red lingerie sitting in a lawn chair (by Hyunjin’s doing) and a fake Ghostface from Scream sitting on the steps leading up to the door just to scare away any kids who might want to approach. The front door is covered in Caution tape in a rather messy manner but… you have to admit, the decoration job isn’t horrible. From afar, that is; As soon as the two of you approach the house you end up finding out that someone had shoved a fleshlight between the legs of the skeleton in the lawn chair, and you aren’t sure if that makes the decorating job better or worse.

Stepping into the house, you shrug off your jacket to carefully drape it over a chair nearby that has clearly been taken over by other jackets, hoodies, and even a few blankets people had just wrapped around themselves and ran in. Chris keeps his on because he swears it’s a part of his costume and important to the outfit - and after a small bicker back and forth about it you decide to give in and just go get a drink to start off the night. You end up meeting up with Changbin and Jisung in the kitchen, Changbin’s hand holding a solo cup full of a clear liquid on ice while Jisung’s double fisting two different beers and sipping from them continuously as they talk. 

“Oh look, it's a discount Rob Zombie. Glad to see you here.” You greet with a sarcastic smile, looking away from Jisung to Changbin who chuckles at your comment on Jisung’s outfit. He’d worn a black and white striped long sleeve under a black tank top that hung off his body and proved to be someone else’s he had stolen and cut up for the costume. His jeans were a bit flashy with their belt chains hanging off of his hips, clinking together any time he moved where he stood. He even threw on a choker and a longer necklace with a pendant hanging off of it. And the stupid, pretty black gloves he wore with the rings all over his fingers… 

“I need a drink. Something, anything.”

Jisung’s gaze lowers and he glares as you already shit on his outfit when you’d only just arrived. “I’m a rockstar, actually? Jesus fuck,” He growls out the last bit, turning away and leaving the kitchen. He rounds the island and wanders off to find other people to talk to, seemingly no longer interested in conversing with Changbin when you are around.

Changbin extends his arm with a small smile, one corner of his lips perking upward. He watches as you take his drink right from him and take a few large sips, grimacing at the taste. “It’s… sour.” 

And Changbin nods, chuckling at your realization. “Yeah, it’s made with sour. That’s the whole point.” He holds out his hand to take it back whenever you feel like you’re done with it, your expression less than pleasant as you click your tongue and hand it back to him.

Yet every time you returned to the kitchen, you found yourself mixing Whiskey and Sour into a cup together to get another feeling of that sweet, sweet buzz. It fucked you up fast and that’s how you liked it, even if you were being cautious and pacing yourself. Though you’d spent the last few hours dancing with Changbin, chatting with Minho in a quieter corner and even finding Hyunjin on the couch and sitting in his lap during a small game of Truth or Dare, you managed to always come back to Chris.

Minho had retired for the night and gone upstairs to his room, Hyunjin was still sitting on the sofa now talking to a rather pretty little blond in a black cat costume that hugged him just right, and Changbin was… well, he was somewhere - all over the place, if you were honest. Chris leaned back against the counter as he watched you sip from the fourth drink. You looked pretty well-off despite having so much alcohol in your system. “You came in here kind of hot earlier.”

“Thank you.~” You coo against the rim of your cup, sipping again from the drink as Chris bursts into laughter.

“No - No. I meant coming in hot as in coming in fiery. You ripped into Jisung right away, you know.” He comments, clarifying his statement with a small shake of his head and a bright, gummy smile that showed all of his teeth. He’s always so smiley around you and he really can’t help it.

Your smile falls. “Oh.” You deadpan the reply and Chris almost regrets even talking about Jisung at all. Though, now that you thought about it, you hadn’t seen him since you had first arrived - and roasted him like an oven roasted chicken when you walked into the kitchen. “Yeah. He deserves it, though! His costume isn’t even that cool - He just looks like himself. You know, an emo twink.” You set your cup down on the island behind you and sigh out, turning away with a lazy tip of your head. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.”

“Don’t fall in,” Chris quips with a smile as you walk away from him, unable to help the corny line of goodbye.

Your walk to the bathroom is short, given that it’s right around the corner and just before the stairs. Your hand finds the doorknob after a bit of tipsy fumbling and as you push it open, you’re met with a sight you’d never expected before in your life.

Jisung stood leaning back against the sink, his jeans pushed down to just above his knees while one hand jerked at his cock - hard and leaking and slick with precum that he’d already smeared over his length. His face is flushed and only grows deeper in color when he sees you push open the door to the bathroom, his lips popping apart - slick with spit and drool dripping down his chin as he looks over. “Either get in or shut the fucking door.”

You’re quick to step in - mostly because you panic. Even if you don’t care for him, it’s a little ridiculous to expose his entire cock to the world outside. So you enter the bathroom with flushed cheeks and lingering eyes. Your state of slight intoxication refuses to let you pull your gaze away from the way his hand still strokes over his cock even with you in the room. Your weight shifts to one side and the moment you pull your eyes away he decides to open his mouth. “Fuck, I hate how sexy you look in that stupid costume.”

His comment makes you squirm, your thighs pressing together to try and hide the way your pussy drips at the sight of him alone. And now he was admitting that he thought you looked sexy? You shift against the door and Jisung reaches out to gently pull you closer with his free hand, laying it against your waist while you take the few steps to reach him. He looks you over up close before sighing out, his thumb sliding over his tip just to tease himself a little. “You want it?”

Jisung chuckles at the way you nod feverishly at his question. Yeah, he was fucking annoying, and yeah his face made a bit of anger swell in your chest even if he was really fucking hot in the moment - but he was just straight up offering his dick to you and you couldn’t say no to a guy with big glossy eyes and a leaking cock. He shifts away from the counter and steps in behind you instead, pressing your hips forward to the edge of the sink. You gasp out and reach out to support yourself, your hand laying on the mirror to leave prints behind as Jisung flips up the bottom half of your dress to lay it over your back. He sighs out in admiration at the sight of the black lace that hid beneath it, hooking one finger into it to tug it aside and see what he really wanted to get a look at.

You peek up into the mirror just in time to see Jisung dipping down behind you and a rush of excitement shoots through your veins. You’re under the assumption he might eat you out a little before he gets to the main ordeal - but Jisung isn’t that nice and he still dislikes you even if you look damn sexy in that tight dress and cute little veil. He spits directly onto your pussy after using his thumbs to spread your lips for him, leaning in soon after to use his tongue and make sure you were plenty wet for easy access as if you weren’t dripping already. Jisung stands back to his full height to look down at your hole, both of his hands gripping at your hips as he lines himself up. His spit clings to your clit before dripping onto the floor between your heels just as his cock slips into you with ease.

You sigh out in admiration at the feeling, eyes rolling back into your head with the way he fills you up. It’s unfair how fucking hot he is considering he’s an asshole to you any time he has the chance. Your hand pushes heavier on the mirror as he starts up a steady rhythm, his cock sliding against your gummy walls with the most sinful sounds bouncing off of the bathroom walls; The wet squelch of your pussy forming to his length as he pushes into you harder when he realizes you can take it - that you want to. “Fuck – Mnh, Ji –”

Jisung glances up at you through the mirror, his hair clouding his vision as it fell into his eyes. He peeks down almost immediately after however, reaching down between your bodies to pull up his shirt as it kept falling down and getting in his way from feeling your skin on his own. He tucks the fabric of the striped shirt between his teeth before he chuckles, his eyes turning back down to where the two of you connect - and as you look at him through the mirror you swear you’ve never seen something so fucking hot in your life. His skin was slick and glistening with a thin layer of sweat which meant his hair was beginning to stick to his face, and with his shirt tucked between his teeth his mouth had formed a small scowl. You could’ve swore you heard a couple quiet growls coming from his throat, too, while he fucked into you harder than before.

Your body rocks against the sink as you hold onto the wall to keep yourself steady, moans flooding from your lips that spur Jisung on to fuck you harder, faster. He reaches with one hand to grab onto your shoulder, pulling you with every thrust so you met him halfway and you whined as you felt his tip prodding at your walls, pushing further each time he pushed into you. Jisung used his free hand to grip at your hip, bruising his fingerprints into your skin as evidence he had been there - been in you. His hand slips lower until he can hoist your thigh up, pushing your leg onto the counter so he can stand even closer to you and sink his cock further into your walls. 

“Ohh - Fuck! Fuck, ‘m gonna come –” Your stutters of release make Jisung glance up, dark eyes staring through his hair as he watches your expressions in the mirror; Your eyes closed, head tipped back, fingers curling against the mirror as your orgasm hit. Jisung’s eyes darted back down to watch you squirt around his cock, slowly pulling out before pushing back into your pussy just when you had thought he’d called it quits. He huffs out, his movements rapid but messy now as he chases his own release. He slumped forward a bit and ended up moving his hand from your shoulder to your hair, his fingers tangling in that thin veil to keep a tight grip on you. Well - that, and he’s always wanted to pull your hair when you got on his nerves.

His breathing is labored and ragged as he lets go of his shirt, the fabric falling down while he spills ropes of cum into your walls to claim you as his own. That’s how he thinks of it in the moment at least. Jisung pulls out shortly after, his cum leaking from your slit and dripping down onto the tile flooring of the bathroom. He reaches down, using two fingers to push it back into your cunt while you whine at the feeling. “God, you’re so noisy,” Jisung huffs out, straightening up and glancing at you as his hand meets you again with a slap to your pussy. 

You jolt the first time and relax the second, his hand stilling against your entrance to carefully rub against you and get you to ease up, your body slumping against the countertop in exhaustion. 

He peeks down and watches as both his cum and your slick cling to his fingers as he pulls his hand away, strings connecting his skin to your own. He usually wouldn’t even think to come inside of someone, but with you it was just another form of proof he’d been there. Something for you to think about when he pissed you off in the following days.

And Minho usually wouldn’t care that people had fucked in his bathroom as he often found evidence of it after the parties he held, stumbling tiredly into the room to piss and find meds that would hopefully cure his hangover migraine; But handprints on his mirror? Really?

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hwangjoanna

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

A/N: this is a kofi request, about a naga that gives you a massage to help with your chronic pain… and that leads to spicy things~

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your sore body, unsatisfied with your doctor’s current diagnosis… or well, lack of one.

It had been a long time since you last brought up your chronic pain, no one ever listened to you before so why keep asking for help when nothing seemed to change? You had found ways to… somewhat manage, so was it really all that bad?

Well, that’s what you thought before yet another doctor dismissed your pain and sent you home with a smile and tip to take ibuprofen before bed.

“Ibuprofen? Does she seriously think I haven’t tried that already?” you murmured to yourself, wincing as you laid on your side. “All that money for an appointment, just to come home empty handed.”

You didn’t react when your phone buzzed on your nightstand, it was late and you didn’t feel like answering anyone’s messages after the day you had.

In the morning when you had some caffeine and could think clearly, you read the message you had been sent the night before.

“Hey, I know you’ve been having some pretty bad flare ups lately. I went to this masseuse and I’ve never felt better! Here’s the address, he said he’s free tomorrow, you should go after work!”

You let out an annoyed huff. Although you loved your friend, you disliked when people recommended random treatments to you.

As if you haven’t visited a masseuse before! Every chiropractor in the area knew your name!

“Well… guess it can’t hurt. I’ve got nothing to do tonight anyways.”

After another work day full of pain and a double dose of anxiety, you put the address into your phone. Luckily, it was close enough to your house that you could justify going home to change out of your work clothes first.

“First impressions are important after all…” you muttered to yourself, brushing off your skirt.

The address led you to a small cottage. It looked more cozy than professional, which you didn’t mind. After all, you wanted to be comfortable and had been through this song and dance so many times you didn’t care anymore.

“Hello!”

You jumped, turning to see a naga slithering up the driveway. It wasn’t often a human like you encountered a magical being, the last time you came face to face with one was in kindergarten when one of your classmates was a troll.

“O-oh, hello. Are you..?”

He smiled, flashing his fangs. “The masseuse? Yes! You must be (Name), your friend said you’d be here early.”

While you walked in, you didn’t notice the way his eyes wandered downwards, taking note of how nice you looked in that skirt.

You did the usual, undressing and laying down on the premade cot before calling him back into the room. For some reason, even though you had been through this multiple times, you almost felt… shy.

“Alright, where are you feeling the most pain?”

You pointed out your sore spots, wincing as his hands went to work. After a few minutes, he frowned and pulled back a bit. “And this isn’t helping, is it?”

“No… it seems nothing really seems to work. Thanks for-“

He stopped you from getting up, helping you relax back into the cot before his hands moved down your body. “I see your friend didn’t mention what I specialize in.”

You saw his fangs again, the way the light glinted off of them making you wince.

“You see, my venom can act as a muscle relaxer. It’s more potent and effective than anything you’ve ever tried, I bet.”

Before you would have hesitated, but you were so tired of the pain and were willing to try anything. “That… sounds nice.”

The naga hovered over you, sniffing your neck before giving it a lick. He was quite handsome, and it had been so long since a man had been this close with you. It felt intimate…

His neck sunk into your neck, and he stayed on top of you as the venom kicked in. He worked his hands into your muscles, humming softly as you let out satisfied moans and sighs.

“Mmm…”

His hands wandered, stopping right at your hips. You were plump, the towel barely covering your fat ass and pretty pussy. Although he tried his best to stay professional, he could feel his cocks beginning to peek through his slit.

“Feeling good?” he asked. You noticed his voice had a slight huskiness to it, and you decided to take your chance.

“Yeah… what about you?”

You couldn’t move much, but the slight shift of your hips into his was enough to have him hissing through his teeth. His cocks settled on your ass as he continued to massage you.

“Mmm… me too. In fact, I can make sure we feel even better… together.”

By the time you got home, your pain and sexual tension was fully relieved, and you already had your next appointment scheduled.

The naga was almost more excited for it than you were.

Want more of this character? Leave a comment!

—————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi @flamefoxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @breathingstarlight

[roosterforme]

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

--------------------------------

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

--------------------------------

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

-------------------------------

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

-------------------------------

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

---------------------------

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[loveanddeepthroat]

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[inbabylontheywept]

I went to summer camp as a kid. Six times, actually. I have many fond memories, and even more terrible ones. Here's one that's a mixture of both.

To set the stage, I had just spent the night in the infirmary due to a big fight I had with almost my entire tent. They never wanted to sleep, and were always obnoxiously loud with a lantern dubbed "the sun" that let me see movement around me with my eyes closed from the shadows passing over it. I was sleep-deprived, overstimulated, autistic-but-unaware-of-that, and twelve years old, and I already disliked these girls because they talked shit about me behind my back and took advantage of naivety. This unfortunate combination lead to a blowout meltdown in which I said some things I regret, so the counselors decided it'd be best if I spent some time away.

Now, this had the unforeseen consequence of putting me in a place with less supervision. This place also had some strange bugs. They were small, about the size of my pinky fingernail. Most of their bodies were in their tails, which curved downwards like a reverse scorpion. They were black and white, sort of striped, with six legs and no wings. Their fangs were very thin, but long, extending out from their faces like brownish parentheses. They had a propensity to bite.

Perhaps you can see where this is going.

While messing around with these bugs, I noticed that when they bit, they didn't just chomp and leave. They sunk their fangs in and they kept them there for a long time. Naturally, I decided to see what would happen if I let them, nay, encouraged them to bite me, as an experiment. When would they extricate their incisors from my flesh? Would my reaction to the bites vary depending on the amount of time each bite lasted?

I let these bugs bite me four times, once for about 13 minutes, once for about 5 minutes, once for about 1 minute, and once for 45 seconds (I didn't have a watch, so these are estimates). Then, I forged a peaceful resolution with my tentmates and we went to watch the beginning of Color War.

Except, turns out it's stupid to let unidentified insects taste your blood. The bites swelled up huge. I got chills. My stomach hurt intensely. My counselor took me back to the infirmary to get them checked out.

Needless to say, this was not easy to explain to the nurse on duty ("WHY" "For science!"). His first thought was we needed to figure out what bit me. If only it were that simple.

We combed through the databases for insects in the state. We expanded our search to arachnids, even, although it certainly wasn't one. I drew a little mock-up on a Post-It to show him. There was not a single match. To this day, I have no idea what it was that I let bite me. I was given orders to come back tomorrow to get them checked by a doctor, and also return every morning and night for a week to put warm compresses and medicinal ointments on the bites, and a strong directive to never do anything like that again, with a side of "What the hell were you thinking????"

A couple of months later, after camp, I went to my friend's bar mitzvah. The woman in the row behind me tapped my shoulder. She asked me how the bug bites were. It was the doctor from the infirmary.

-- @dr-robert-chase-apologist

That was a beautiful ending. I have a similar story, but less gruesome than letting bugs bite me. My family used to go up to trips to the Mogollon Mountains two or three times a year. The woods were where my dad always felt the most at peace.

My dad used that time to hike through the trees. And I grew into that eventually, but when I was very little, I felt a particular kinship to the small things of this world. Worms and beetles and woodlice and those peculiar Arizona grasshopers with wings the size of jellybeans and tummies the size of my thumb.

And on one trip, there was an incredible number of these beautiful, fuzzy caterpillars. Picture below.

I went a little crazy about them. They were fluffy, and they were had pretty colors, and they had the cutest, softest, stubbiest little suction cup feets that I'd ever seen. Watching them climb up stalks of grass or over fallen branches was enchanting.

So I caught, like, twenty of them, and most got put in a little terrarium where I could watch them do cute caterpillar things. Mostly eat fresh pine needles and wriggle gregariously. But some I kept out just to play with. I'd put them on my palm, and I'd watch them crawl all the way up to my neck, then I'd move them somewhere else. They tickled, and I was charmed to be their jungle gym.

But apparently, those little hairs break off like fiberglass, and they have some kind of venom on them, so I had these strange, wriggling, almost tattoo like rashes all over my arms up to my neck. Very embarrassing to explain to my parents.

There was an entomologist on the street that I grew up on named Freddie. And he wasn't just a bug expert, he was specifically a caterpillar expert. He had a garden in his backyard that was specifically tailored for butterflies, he'd always draw in clouds of Monarchs during their migration. My parents asked him about the mysterious itchy caterpillars, and he said they were lophocampa ingens, and that I was lucky that I didn't inhale those hairs. They can stick inside your throat and make it swell closed. Scary little bastards.

I'd still see them after that, but never in such numbers. And while I appreciated them, I always tried to keep a few feet of distance. Just to be safe.

(Also, just wanted to clarify that I didn't remember the name for 20 years, I googled "irticating caterpillar Mogollon", and saw the picture. It wasn't until I read the caption that I was like oh yeaaaaah, that's what he called them. But it was one of those memories I could never have pulled at will.)

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ O2.10 - (hsr) Blade ~

Dom!reader x sub!blade - reader is gender neutral

Warning: yan!reader, NTR (?), fingering, pegging (I use dick), anal play, double penetration, marking, biting, hair pulling, sex toys, cumming untouched, teasing, dirty talk (?), bondage, dacryphilia, mind break, sub-space, obsessiveness (mention of wanting to lock him up etc.)

~ Word count: 6.8k ~

Nini!rant: I felt like a pervert writing this, also why the unnecessary drama?!

Kinktober list 2024

You really shouldn’t be mad. Of course, you were understanding and patient with him, damn it, you really were. Well, you out of everyone knew best what he was like. Cold, distant, and quiet, that icy demeanor of his wasn’t only for show. He didn’t like expressing his emotions too excessively or catching a lot of attention.

Also, work comes first, every time with no fail. Normally you didn’t mind it at all, because you adored him nonetheless. All of that wasn’t off-putting, it was what you loved about him. No matter how compliant you are with him, he’d still hurt you sometimes without noticing. You knew he never meant to do it on purpose, but you wished he was a little more considerate. If only he understood your perspective a little more. 

Today was different though, in the fact that you had enough. This time you were fed up with him, to the point you could feel your blood boil. For example, you reached out for his hand, obviously because you wanted to hold it. To your dismay, he immediately shook off your touch and avoided your eyes. Was it because Silver Wolf and Kafka were also there? Sure, He wasn’t one to enjoy showing public affection, yet his reaction was too much. If one didn’t know the whole truth they’d think he disliked you, you were a little offended by it.

On the same day but later, Kafka teased blade about how much you loved him since you always looked out for your dear partner. Instead of agreeing with her, maybe even complimenting you (not that you expected him to do so), he answered with, “I can only wait til the day we separate.”

It was an accident that you heard them, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But, what kind of answer is that?! Could this be his way of telling you he wants to break up? And the damn reason is what, because you like him too much? Your break up is not something he can decide. In the end, you couldn’t keep your frustrations and anger under control. Were you the only one who cherished this relationship?

You were understanding, really, but you had a limit as well.

Loud stomping sounds echoed through the halls, your presence was soon made known to everyone. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about being noisy right now. Without wasting any time, you walked over to him, just to grab his wrist and drag him along. One didn’t need to be a genius to guess you were furious, even someone with low emotional intelligence like him knew.

He decided it would be the smarter move to follow obediently. To be fair he always let you do whatever you wanted, because he didn’t want to hurt you. What if he pushed you away, causing you to trip because he couldn't control his strength? That man thought of his own power as something destructive and despicable, with the mindset that he was no better than a weapon.

Most of the time you were allowed to do whatever you wanted except spoiling him with affection in public.

Now that you thought about it, this was probably because he never expected your relationship to last, and he still doesn’t trust the fact that you won’t leave him or vanish out of thin air. How absurd, you wouldn't leave him even if he begs you to. Heck, not even death would be able to do you two apart. You were ready to become a parasite that lives inside him for the rest of his life, so you two won’t ever be separated. With that being said, how is he that stubborn with his mindset, still firmly believing that you would get sick of him one day.

What a naive thought. Yet that was just how Blade was, and it hurt you like a deep cut in your heart. Damn it, did he really have that little trust in you or in himself? Both options made your heart throb with sadness and sorrow. The previous anger subsided and bitterness filled your senses at the realisation. It was as if everything you thought you had built with him, achieved during all that time meant nothing. Like a fleeting memory, worth as much as a cloud in the sky. You couldn't wrap your head around how he can let you go so easily.

What to do, what to do... You’ve brought him to your room to nag him, but now you weren’t even angry anymore. Only staring at him with a familiar pity in your eyes. One that he has never seen on anyone's face when they interact with him except yours. Whenever you pulled that expression, Blade would ponder over what kind of thoughts were running through your head. Fury? Despair? Or emptiness? If only he could ease your burden and guilt only a little, he'd be willing to do whatever it takes. Maybe you two were never meant to be. Was there anything you could have done to prevent this outcome?

Blade too knew what got you acting up, he had a pretty accurate guess. You probably overheard his conversation with his fellow colleagues, which wasn’t meant for your ears. He wondered how much you heard, a glimmer of hope prayed that today will be the day you end things. He wanted you to break up with him first, so you can save more face and leave without regrets. Instead of keeping silent like always, he took the initiative this time. The boy took a deep breath first, then asked, “So you know?” Somehow it wasn’t akin to a question, more like a confirmation.

Anyone else would think he was being emotionless again, due to how he kept a nonchalant expression even during such situations. Or how his voice had that usual carefree undertone. Yet you knew. You were certain he was frustrated too. You knew him better than anyone, better than he himself. Every single one of his features, habits, and actions, you’ve got it all mesmerized and stuck in your head like a curse. If someone said he wasn’t expressive, you were ready to defend him like the best lawyer out there.

“I won’t break up with you.” You said immediately, getting straight to the point and making yourself clear. “I’d never do that, even if you don’t like me anymore.” Maybe you were a little clingy, or even possessive. Even so, you tried your best to accommodate your own desires to fit into his comfort zone. You've done so much for him, no one loves him more than you, so it’s fine to be egoistic right? “You should, I can’t return the things you give me.” He advised you, now acknowledging your efforts.

Bright red eyes reflecting the colors of a destructive fire stared right into yours, the flame was wild and uncontrolled like always. “You can’t decide that for me, I won't allow you to end our relationship so easily.” You stood by your point, not afraid to keep the eye contact with him. There was just no way you’d let him go, he needs you, and he loves you. Not to mention you do too, so what more did he need?

As if something inside you snapped, you asked him in an almost desperate tone, “What more conditions do I have to fulfil for you to stay? And who will comfort you if not me, who will care for your health if i’m not here?” Your voice was on the edge of breaking, it reflected your inner emotions very well. You couldn’t afford for him to leave. Blade sighed, he growled a little as he spoke, “it’s not about you, it’s me. I’m a sinner, and I still have a price to pay. I don't want to cling to the realm of the living any longer, I don’t deserve it, the only salvation I seek is death.”

You countered him almost immediately, speaking in a slightly more aggressive manner now, “I’m not dating you only because of you, I want it too. I don't care about your past or future destiny, I want to stay with you, in this fleeting moment, in this forsaken universe, and I don’t want anyone else.” Why were you this determined, that's so annoying. There were so many better candidates besides him, who aren’t condemned convicts and have brighter futures! Can’t you see he’s doing it for your sake? Slowly you were getting on his nerves.

A moment of silence broke out, both of you didn’t dare utter a single word. You didn’t want to break the ice first, and neither did he. After a good minute, you couldn’t stand it anymore, it was even more awkward just standing there glaring at each other. Which is why you walked up to him until you were right in front of the male, “answer me, and only this question with no strings attached. Do you- no, did you not like our relationship?”

The fury you previously held returned, now eating away at you even more viciously than before. Blade took his sweet time answering him, both of you knew the truth anyway. “I never said that,” the male those to stay as neutral as possible. To admit he actually wants to continue this path of hardship and suffering wouldn’t help him out of this situation. “I said answer my question only.” You reinforced your point, trying to pressure a response out of him.

He sighed, bawling his hands into fists as he replied, “I regret not being able to be the partner you wished for me to be.” Suddenly you grabbed his shoulders, shaking him roughly, “that’s not what I asked for!” Despite you sounding so angry you could explode at him, blade noticed the underlying fear and frustration in your voice. “What does my answer change? It doesn’t make me less unsuitable for you.”

“So what? Why can’t we stay together? It’s not like you are in prison! No— never mind, don’t answer me. I know you won’t change your opinion even if this continues.” You stopped squeezing his shoulders as if he would disappear if you didn’t, but you didn’t let go of him. Then you uttered under your breath, “I’ll have to make you stay in a different way then…”

He didn’t quite get what you meant by that, but he also didn’t get the chance to ask. Blade frowned at your ignorance. Don’t you know just how dangerous he is? How stupid does one have to be, to stay this close to someone bathing in blood like him? It’s not that he enjoyed arguing with you, all he wished for was your safety and happiness. He didn't think you could achieve that while being with him.

Every time he came back from a mission, the worried and bitter look on your face would hurt more than any wound he gets on the battlefield. That look you bore would follow him to his nightmares, ripping him off any shred of sleep he could have gotten. Your smile would also drop instantly whenever you saw blood dripping from his body, even if it wasn’t his. Isn’t this proof enough that you should leave? You were clearly scared of him.

At that moment, he lost himself in his thoughts, but you quickly snapped him out of it. All due to a rough push that caused him trip backward and crash onto your bed. He immediately tried to sit up because of his reflexes, since he can’t stay in a vulnerable position during battle for all too long. Though this time you were faster, trapping him between your arms without any exits. Blade stared up at you, his voice caught in his throat. Something about your vibe told him this was not normal, or at least not your gentle self he was used to.

With a cold commanding voice, you said, “strip, blade.” Your voice was so different. The tone was harsh and somewhat unsettling, he knew it wasn’t a suggestion but an order. Without questioning your actions too much, he followed your words as always. First his jacket, then his pants. Underneath his top, he wore nothing but bandages that were wrapped around his torso. Huge battle scars covered his body, proof of his countless fights and victories.

You stared at his scars very intensely. He almost thought you were thrown off by them or maybe even disturbed, if not for your next moves proving him wrong. Since you suddenly started groping his body, touching him all over with your hands. Chest, belly, and waist, all of it while not leaving a single spot untouched.

The face he pulled was almost funny. Poor boy looked so confused yet also slightly embarrassed, were you implying that you didn’t care about those hideous marks? As if you could read his mind, you commented, “your scars are nice, I like them.” He wasn’t ashamed of them, since they were his trophies, his achievements, yet calling them pretty was a white lie. At least that’s what he thought, until you changed his view on them.

To his surprise, you started kissing those scars and licking them, before you eventually left new marks behind. It ranged from bites to hickeys. Some spots were fortunate and only had red dots, other parts were less lucky and are now plagued with bruises. It almost looked like he just went to a battlefield with a beast.

Honestly? For someone who’s basically the definition of fighting, he had surprisingly delicate skin.

Despite how bold you seemed, making a move on him like that, you were actually struggling internally. What could you do to make him abandon those useless thoughts, to make him tied to you forever? It has to be something you haven’t tried yet, and it has to make him go crazy. Otherwise, you will end up in a situation like today again. Then a pretty unholy thought crossed your mind, one that made you smirk to yourself. If you made him into a sex-drunk slut, maybe he'd be dependent on you? Haha, what a joke. No way in hell that dumb idea could work. But... it wouldn't hurt to try…?

“Mhmm… uhnng- hah, haa…” In the meantime blade furrowed his brows, throwing a hand over his mouth to muffle his whimpers. You weren’t playing today, attacking his sensitive spot from the get-go. Fingertips brushed over his chest, all the way to his pelvis, stopping right above where he wanted you the most. “Tsk.” The now seemingly annoyed male clicked his tongue at your playful antics, avoiding eye contact due to his own embarrassment. How did things escalate to this anyway? Weren’t you two just arguing? Today was supposed to be the day he ended it all. Yet here he was, adding more sins to his record.

Just as he decided to indulge himself once more, you stopped. To his surprise you pulled away from him, standing up to grab some tools you’ll need for your plan, leaving him all alone on the bed. Well, this was awkward now. Him, sitting all nude on your mattress while you were fully dressed, fumbling with your drawer. Talk about ruining the mood, were you trying to tease him, or to torment him?

After a short while you came back holding a few toys as well as a bottle of lube. There were so many different things to choose from. Out of nowhere aa thought crossed his mind, could it be that you were going to use him as a stress relief? Somehow his cheeks flushed at the possibility, having you treat him like an object would be better than with care and adoration.

On your way back you noticed a certain crimson fabric lying around on the ground, hidden beneath all the other layers. It was the ribbon that was usually tied around his back. You picked it up with your free hand, or the hand with less stuff to carry, and then threw all of the tools onto the mattress. A fully developed blush covered his cheeks now, he was also fully erect.

What a naughty boy, all hard already with such a desperate look in his eyes. Did the sight of these toys finally ring a bell? You couldn’t mask your excitement behind an angry facade anymore. No matter how much he hurts you, everything is alright again the moment you remember just how gorgeous your pretty boy is. Are you too easy? Yes. Do you give a damn? Heck no.

“Stay still.” You told him as you held his wrists together, slowly binding them behind his back. To do that, you had to flip him over first. Now he was kneeling, holding his ass up high in the air. His muscles immediately tensed, not because of you tying him up, but due to the humiliation he felt in that moment. This position was really shameful, yet he couldn’t help but get excited.

Exposing himself like this, how it brought forth shameless memories. The rope you used was unexpectedly long, so you had to tie it into a bow for it to stay out of the way. It looked really adorable actually. Him, all vulnerable and at your mercy with no possibility to escape. Oh, how you wished you could just tie him up and never let him go. Sadly, he was too strong and would be able to break free from any kind of restraint. What a shame, wasn’t it?

You pressed down on his shoulder to make him arch his back further, earning a small gasp from the male. He couldn’t see or guess what you were doing since you were behind him, so he was being very cautious. Focussing on every rustle and movement he could sense, which also led to him being extra sensitive. Being on such high alert has its on advantages and weaknesses.

That was the reason why he twitched at every contact you created with him. Ever since he started seeing you, he has not only cursed his immortality but also his sensitivity which seems to multiply with each day he spends within your care. Did you feed him anything funny or how was it even possible?

You on the other hand were admiring his toned body, he looked like a sculpture with how perfect he was. Porcelain skin paired with the scars you have caressed already, hickeys and bites all over his frame as well as the faint blush clouding his face. The red ribbon wrapped around him like some accessories was a nice contrast to his pale complexion, or his back muscles that always make you go feral over him. This man was such a fine piece of art; does he really not know? Sometimes you wondered if he was just acting. It only he himself knew what a gem he was.

After finally snapping back to reality, you squeezed his butt cheek with one hand, spreading it slightly to reveal his pink hole. Then using the other hand to squish the bottle of lube, watching the contents drop and drip down his body. First his entrance, then his balls, all the way to his thighs. “Hnng- give me a head up next time..” The coldness of the liquid caught him a little off guard, earning you a yelp from the male. You didn’t even pay attention to his words, you were focused on how the lube slowly ran down his body.

This looked no different than an erotic game, everything was so perverted you almost felt shameful. He shivered a little due to the temperature of the lube was, still not used to it. Cut him some slack, alright? It was the total opposite of his burning hot skin after all. But his body temperature caused you worries as well, it was as if he had a fever. Head spinning while every inch of his body was on fire, heating up like never before.

You had to bite onto your own bottom lip to concentrate, whenever you were with him you got carried off so easily. Damn his pretty face. Really, you had to control yourself to not just force a dildo inside him here and now. Without any further delay, since your patience was on a thin line, you stuck one finger inside his ass, wriggling it around in circles.

“HmM-hngg.." A low hiss escaped him at the sudden intrusion, his rim clenched down onto you almost instantly. “Calm down, I’m preparing you for something way worse than this.” Did you really have to word it like that? This was only making him more nervous and excited. But he had to try to follow your request since it’s what you wanted from him. Even now he was acting on instincts, on the instincts you taught him, on how to be your good boy.

Blade took a few deep breaths until he inhaled and exhaled at a steady pace. After a good minute, he was ready to take more, which is why a second finger joined in soon. This time his reaction was a little less heretic. His shoulders still jumped upwards as well as him throwing his head back due to the sensations, yet that was it. You were able to split and fold him apart without any further troubles.

Eventually you changed the rubbing and trusting motions you previously used to scissoring ones, while watching him struggle not to break your restraints. What a good boy he was, only for you, the training payed off. How will you ever be able to find someone as adorable as him? His whines also picked up, and more lewd sounds of pleasure slipped from him. “Mhmm.. uhHH.!! Damn..it, haaAHH..." Gosh, he was too cute.

You swore listening to those blissful whimpers of his is erasing all your stress, as well as adding years to your lifespan. Gradually, your digits moved faster inside him, pressing against his spongy walls and making him gasp for air. You could feel his soft yet warm insides twitch around you, almost as if his body was begging for more. At this rate, he was going to cum before you get to the main part.

Which is why you stopped, pulling your fingers out of him. As soon as you took them out, his rim clenched around nothing and tensed up. A string of lube connected your fingertips with his hole, it stuck to both sides and refused to let loose. You reached for the bottle again, adding more lubricant to the already enormous amount. “HnnGh… y/n.” The way he moaned your name was so hot, he doesn’t even know just how much you adored him. Everything about him got you acting up like an animal.

Ahhh… That’s it, you couldn’t hold back anymore. On one hand, you wanted to tease him with a toy to the point he begs for you to fuck him, until he tells you how much he needs your dick. Then again you also want to pound into his puffy little hole til he’s a whiny, crying mess, who can’t stop sobbing about how amazing you feel. Until he tells you only yours can satisfy him. You wanted to make him into a slut so badly. What to do? Both options are nice, and they always give great results. Maybe first the toy, and if he begs enough the other choice? While you were still contemplating your choices, the boy distracted you.

“Hurry up.. uh-ugh... teasing me like this isn’t like you.” Blade complained, squinting his eyes while looking away. No way, he is begging you already, when all you’ve done was a little fingering? “Haha~ so needy today, aren’t you? You only show this side to me don’t you, Bladie?” You couldn't let such a fitting opportunity slip and had to tease him about it.

The blush on his face darkened again, his ears and shoulders had been infected too. Your question was met with a meek nod before silence occurred again. He only shows this side to you, only you and no one else. Heh. “My, since you like it so much.” You grabbed the silicon toy and pressed the tip against him, before slowly inserting it. Sharp gasps and groans can be heard from him, his hands clutched the sheets like his life depended on it.

“Wa-wait… y/n, y-y/n.?! It’s too su-sudden, mhmm, ah fuck..” The poor boy was gazing at you over his shoulder, his hands clenching the restrains with newfound despair. Was he really stretched enough to take something so big inside him? God.. the shame, curiosity and pleasure are mingling inside him, mixing together into a perfect blend. You always managed to make him excited and on edge, you made his life much more tolerable than before.

When the tip was inside him, he was already mewling and shaking. The deeper you penetrated him, the louder he became. At the point where you finally reach the half, he was already groaning and blabbering useless things, incoherent nonsense like, “ah, too-! MhHm, good?! oHH, ah, y/NNNnmm..!!” His moans were like blessings to your ears, the most beautiful singing that could put sirens to shame.

It didn’t take long before the entire thing was inside him, you prepared him a lot after all and you were quite generous with the lube. “Ah.. fuck, I- mhm, mo-more...” What a greedy boy, he just got what he wanted and he’s already craving more. You couldn’t help but giggle at that, cooing gently. “Shh, get used to this first.” After all that drama, you still tried to be gentle with him, to make him feel good and become dependent on you. Yet reality shows it backfired. Blade grinned a little, his feisty, kind of intimidating smirk. And it caught you off guard.

Out of nowhere, he mocked you in a snickering tone, “is- mhm, this all you’ve go-got?” He tried to taunt you, but still stumbled over his words a little. His stuttering was almost cute if it weren’t for the words he voiced out. “Huh?” You replied, seemingly annoyed now. “You said.. hah, that you’ll, ha-hnghhh… make me stay, so do- fuck..!! Do it.” What’s gotten into him, his mood just did a whole 180. Suddenly he turned into a brat? Oh how he has done it, he dug his own grave, you weren't going to be nice to such an annoying thing.

You grabbed his bottom and spread it with your hands, the dildo inserted into him was being pushed to one side. His eyes widened as if he was a deer caught in headlights, finally reaching the point of realising what he got himself into. He grit his teeth enough for you to hear, all while the ribbon started binding him to rip. Sweat was rolling down his forehead, his eyes exposed how much he loved every single second of this. Not long after, you lined your own length against him, slowly penetrating him. Now even you were amazed at how loose he was since he was able to fit two inside.

It was an act of impulse, to fill him up like that, though now you were getting into it. Just the thought of it was kind of hot, him, taking two dicks inside that adorable pink hole of his? “UgHH!! mhMM- gaAhHH!! AhHHH <3!! Too bi-big..!” Blade complained once again, his knuckles turned white with how he was clenching his fists. “Too much.., n-no!! Slower, my stomach feels so full..♡♡”

So now he’s whining about it being too much when he had been such a whore moments before, begging for more? Oh no, you weren’t going to stop now, not when he seemed to be enjoying himself so much. I mean, he was whimpering as tears collect in his eye sockets, marks from his nails forming on his palm due to the pure strength he was using. His hands weren’t on his back anymore, instead above his head and writhing away.

The way he squirmed and trashed around, desperately trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure and sensations, ahh you loved him so much! Then how about you comment on his poor, neglected cock? How it's twitching around all uselessly while dirtying your sheets? There were so many things you could do to him, and you had all the time in the world.

It took a little fighting, but you eventually bottomed out inside him. Finally fitting both of the lengthy dicks inside his soft, hot walls. “Haah, shit, you are too tight.” You growled, he didn’t know if it was a compliment or not. On the other hand there was no way you could move when he’s been stuffed full like this, the tight muscle was holding onto you for dear life. His rim squeezed you as if it would break if not. That’s when you heard sobs emerging from him, paired with the most erotic moans you’ve encountered ever.

“Oh-hmHhH!!! AhhHHhnn, fuck, fuck, fuuUckKK! Y/n, oh please..” A rough voice which used to be at least a few octaves deeper was now itching closer to the high-pitched singing of a mockingbird, alongside hiccups standing in his own way each time he opened his mouth. Simply heavenly, there were no words to describe this beautiful scenery in front of you.

And to think you were the cause of it, oh dear, he really wanted to seduce you, doesn't he?

If he really wanted to break up with you, he shouldn’t make such sounds! In the end, you had to wait quite a bit until he got somewhat used to it, so that you could move your hips slightly. Blade on the other side buried his face between your pillows, bawling his eyes out. It hurt, yet it felt so good it was mind breaking. Oh lord, he could feel himself getting stretched so much that it was almost scary.

“HnNGhh.. ahh-hic, y/n.. I feel so fu-full- damn it m’ gonna break if you continue!” Sweat rolled down his face, hair stuck to his body and his precum was everywhere. Thighs, shaft, and sheets, you name it. What a messy boy he was, so dirty, filthy and lovable. You stroked his back while he sobbed, rubbing his sacrum and spine causing him to shudder even more, just the lightest touches were enough to make him succumb to bliss and ecstasy that were otherworldly. Seriously, at this rate he was really going to break..!

Then you grabbed his hair and yanked on his locks, whispering in a soft tone again, “Bladie, you have to loosen up a little. I can barely fuck you.” “MhmMMM!! Do-don’t say it like that..! You’re embarrassing me!” Aha, so talking dirty can still earn you a loud groan from the boy, he was just as sensible as at the start of your session. If not, he only got more sensitive. You tamed him well.

The pain he felt was quickly converted into pleasure, confusing his body and tad bit. Don’t you know he’s trying his best? He’s never taken two at the same time, he could swear his butt was going to tear at any moment. Though all these tingles he felt with no end in sight, the way his nerves were being stimulated on a whole new level he couldn’t fathom, yea it was worth it.

This was pure paradise, the first paradise he got to savour. He could swear this was something normally only aeons could get to enjoy, that’s how exhilarating these emotions were. You noticed how he tried to take everything you gave him, to accommodate it and make it fit, but to no avail of course. In honour of his efforts, you added some more lube and pressed your dick deeper inside him. This time it reached his sweet spot, hitting his prostate with such accuracy it made him see the pearly gates. The boy couldn’t help but growl out loud again, “AaaAahHHH.. ♥︎♡!!! OoHh- mhMm, too deeeEEKK!!”

The way you stared at him got him breathless, it made him feel ashamed and humiliated. Letting you see all those despicable sides of him was too much, he only wanted to show you his best after all. “Do-don’t look at me.. so intensely.” Blade whined, nuzzling his face into the mattress. “Why not?” You asked him with a lewd grin, licking your lips as you admired how adorable he looked.

“I’m fi-filthy, and it’s humiliating…!” Now he’s suddenly being humble and self-conscious? When he was just teasing you moments ago? Your gaze changed into a sickly sweet one, loving, possessive even. “Don’t worry bladie, in my eyes, you are an angel.” Then you ran your fingertips over his skin again, before pulling them back to have a better grip on his body.

Every time you moved even the slightest bit, he’d let out the most intense and lewd noises ever, as if he copied them straight from a porno. The poor man was so ashamed, he didn’t know what to do. Everything you did to him felt just too damn good, he couldn’t keep himself under control. Now he was biting the soaked pillows in a pathetic attempt to muffle those sweet whimpers, shaking his ass due to his knees going weak under him. Your poor pillow.. it was wet with tears and drool, also a bit of sweat. Well, not that you even noticed.

"Fuck this is hot.” That was all you could think of in that situation. How could you think of anything but your dearest boyfriend after all? A wicked smile pestered your features while your eyes took in the view. If you had one wish, you’d wish time would stop at exactly this moment, you would have been so content. Gods, aeons, please, you needed this man so badly it was a curse. It was gnawing away at you from the inside!

The overflowing desire took over your rational mind, and you suddenly started pounding into him at a rough pace. All you wanted was more, more of him, more of his voice, more of this control you held over him. Now you were consumed by lust and greed huh? “AahHHGH?!? Y-y/nNN..! MhmMngHN...?!?” So unbelievably mean you were, rutting into him like he was some used, cheap-ass whore. As if he was nothing but your flashlight, your rag doll. He secretly loved it, but he would never tell you. Even if he was a dead men, he valued his dignity.

With one hand you grabbed his waist, with the other hand, you held the dildo to keep it in its rightful place, in case it slipped out. Damn it, you aren't leaving him any choices, are you? Not that he wanted to escape anyway. Once again your stunning little lover couldn't hold his tears back, sobbing in a meek voice about how you were too fast and too huge.

“Bi-biiiig… too mMHmm, biiiiiggg..!!” Choked out whines was all that filled the room, alongside his adorable mewling. Each time your hips snapped against his, you would create loud slapping noises that are being echoed through the room. His dick would also swing around and hit his tummy. This happened so often that strings of sticky precum connected his belly with the tip of his cock.

During your own excitement, you started babbling nonstop, repeating the same words over and over again. “Blade, fuuuck. I love you, I love you so much. Stay with me, don't leave. I love you.”

Somehow your hand found itself entangled in his long, dark blue hair again. Yanking on them like it was some makeshift leash, getting off to the sight of his pained face. How his eyes rolled back, tongue stuck out and body shaking like a weak, helpless animal. Would it be too mean and sadistic for you to say you took pleasure in him being vulnerable? He himself also couldn't form coherent sentences anymore, he has lost that skill for quite a while now. All Blade could do was scream out your name and beg for god-knows-what, while hoping you'll grant him some relief soon.

“Y/n, y/nnN! OohHH, ha-AhhNhhnN~!! Touch my di-dick too... please, oh ple-please~ mhmm...!” Right, there was still that useless yet cute little thing hanging between his legs. You hadn't touched it even once, hence why it was an angry shade of red and all swollen. Despite all that, nothing can beat how bruised up and abused his hole was. You weren’t as tender with him as you planned to, well, this was fine too.

“No way, I’m only going to fuck your pussy here.” As always, you just can't keep your mouth shut once you see his flustered and fucked out expressions, spewing one nonsense after another. "Ahh.. I'm clo-cloOohhsee <3, fuck me harder, please, y/n, please please please!!" Now he was over the moon, having already abandoned any shred of dignity he might have had beforehand.

The tears decorated his pretty face, trailing off his cheeks shone brightly. Every erotic word in the book could be heard coming from his lips, enticing you to give it your best to pound him until he gets drunk on the pleasure. He probably was already but wouldn’t hurt to keep going, right? It was also your initial plan anyway, if you hadn't lost yourself in his moans like that.

“It's alright, cum for me darling. I love you.” You reassured him, caressing his scalp now instead of tugging on it. After thinking about it for a few seconds… wouldn't this mean he is cumming untouched? This adorable but perverted bastard. Heh.

For Blade, these words of reassurance were all he needed to hear right now, that was enough to snap the final straw within him and make him finish all over the sheets. “Ah-aahHnnGHN uhNHMMM!!! Cumming- I’m cummingnnn!! <3~~!!” That was basically a scream, he was so loud, you were sure everyone on the spaceship must have heard him. All his comrades and subordinates. Somehow that made you very happy, now everyone will know your relationship is still healthy and you two have no plans of going separate ways. Not like you would have let him anyway.

If you didn't consider your bed defiled before, now you obviously do. A nice and huge load shoot out of his poor member, covering the area beneath him in white. The wet spots were overwhelming, it was so nasty that you couldn’t help but smile. As for blade, it would be an understatement to simply say he was exhausted. He was way more than just that. You basically fucked every sense of self he had out of him, turning his brain into mush that could only beg for more of your touch.

After receiving and having a taste of the Paradies on earth, he won't be able to turn back anymore. Everything was just to bind him to you forever. Well, this was fine too, if you execute everything in the right way, he won't be able to go a day without thinking about you ever again! (As if he wasn’t like that before already) His body will remember you and only you, until it can only be pleased by you. Even if you had to turn him into a cock hungry slut, you would gladly do it.

Come on, your obsession was justified! Just look at him, he's everything you ever wanted in a man, he was your only desire. Your world, your colours, your breath. If he isn’t with you, you’ll lose your mind. Then everything becomes to tasteless. What do they say again? Love changes a person.

His skin shone due to the thin layer of sweat covering his body, eyes still rolled into the back of his skull since his brain was still processing the sensations and pleasures up to this point. His orgasm and the aftermath made him so tired and battered, even after waiting for a good minute he couldn't calm down nor move a single muscle.

When you pulled out of him and took the toy out as well, his stretched entrance was gaping as if he wanted to be filled again. Then you untied his wrists, throwing the red ribbon onto the ground. Evidence of the binds and his struggles were left behind, pretty marks were around his tender wrist. You’ll need to apply some medicine later. How must he feel? Even you were a little shaken by all that tension, and you weren't even on the receiving end.

After giving him another minute to catch his breath, you deemed him conscious enough to understand your words. Without hesitation and a single ounce of shame, you whispered into his ear, "you are mine and I’m yours, bladie~ So please, stay with me, even after your immortality ends."

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze @sh1-n0bu

Nini!rant 2.0:

Being a yandere irl is not hot at all, it’s creepy as heck (but in fiction I’m down for a pathetic whimpy clumsy yandere)

Yandere is a word mixed from two different ones and ordinates from Japanese. The first is ‘yanderu’, which means “to be sick,” and the second is ‘deredere’, it means smt like “lovestruck” — so yandere just describes someone who’s sickly in love, or, loves someone to the point it’s sick.

Often times they are depicted in one way only. The typical, disgusting and intimidating ones. Kidnapping their darling while threatening/ killing anyone who comes to close to them, or the potential love rivals. Due to these rather… extrem methods, yandere’s are often depicted as doms. But yandere come in all flavours, they don’t have to be just dom.

To be obsessive in love can go both ways, to want to possess the person, or to want to worship the ground they walk on. Sometimes the person doesn’t even know they were a yandere, thinking what they did was alright. There are also yandere’s that love & hate their darling, which is an interesting dynamic?

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 3: Happily Never After

series masterlist

Chapter Summary: They say the liar's candle burns until nightfall, and the truth eventually comes out. But if the liar had to say the lie without wanting to, can she ever be forgiven? Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 8k, explicit MDNI, smutty, fluffy, and angst... authors note: I'm so glad you all showed so much love and interest in this story! Thanks a ton, everyone!

An elevator ride towards the topmost floor brought you to a spectacular view of the city below, glass panels surrounding almost every inch of the suite. The elevator’s soft ding startled your body into action. Stepping through, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the moment. Luxurious surroundings of rich blacks, silvery grays, and gleaming gold details captured your attention, soothing your nerves. However, it was merely a distraction that served nothing, not when you could feel his every movement, his graceful steps moving to and fro.

The suite was larger than you thought, and the hallway was strewn with flower petals. The shopping bags filled with clothes he had bought for you sat on the large table to your right. You stood there, -your gaze fixed on them but avoiding his face- feeling a wave of heat intensifying throughout your body. You were startled by Harry's gentle touch as he helped you remove your coat. He did it slowly and lingeringly, letting his fingertips glide along your neck and shoulders. You glanced at him shyly, your heart racing as your eyes finally met.

Damn.

His eyes burning you to the core.

You felt a lump form in your throat, but you took a deep breath and swallowed it down. Just as he was about to turn, you caught a quick glimpse of his lips moving—was he smiling? Crap, he must have picked up on how nervous you were. Of course, he did; you were acting all jittery like a bride on her wedding night. But this wasn’t a wedding night, and you weren’t a bride, so why were you feeling this way? It had been a while since you’d last hooked up, but that wasn’t what was stressing you out. You really needed to calm the chaos going on in your head, and fast.

His words echoed in your mind: "For now, just let it all out."

And you did.

In that moment, you made up your mind. Deep down, you admitted that you wanted him.

Yes.

You wanted him so badly that you didn't care about anything else, so badly that you swallowed your pride in an instant.

You turned to him and your eyes stayed glued to him.

To his back.

The way he moved, the way he touched, grabbed and placed your coat over the chair. The way his eyes locked with yours, and with just a look, he understood.

Then he lunged.

Brought your face into his, your lips melded as one, devouring one other, clashing with hunger released from the confines of your heart. You couldn't hold back this madness any longer, opening up so gloriously, so effortlessly to his probing tongue, tongue that feverishly explored every inch of your mouth, wanting, no, needing, to brand every inch with his taste. And you pushed back, wanting the same thing: for him to taste you. 

He pushed you back with even more passion than you did. You did trip, but he was agile enough to catch you before you fell, pinned you against a wall. His lips met your jaw, teeth scraping down to your neck while your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel him, desperate to touch...

Your sudden growl got his attention, and he surged up, kissing your mouth again, helping you with the damn shirt. Once it came off, you wasted no time. Your hands roamed with eager curiosity, enchanted by the velvety warmth of his skin despite the strength of his body, at the solid ridges your palms found, the sculpted lines of his chest, the tightness of his rippling biceps, his abs.

He was a magnificent sight, a living dream, and you were completely committed to exploring every inch of him.

Then, with a swift and eager move, he found the zipper of the dress, lowering it until it finally gave way, the straps on your shoulder falling helplessly to their sides. He took a moment to appreciate the stunning sight of the dress gracefully cascading from your body, elegantly flowing to the floor and pooling at your feet. His gaze lingered on every detail, from your bare legs to the delicate strands of hair framing your face. A proud smile spread across his lips, accompanied by a playful growl of approval, clearly delighted by the breathtaking vision before him.

Eagerly, he reached out with his hand to help you step over the dress, and then he placed another burning kiss on your lips.

He was quick to grab you by the hips, quick to pin you against the wall again. One arm encased you within his grip, the other harshly split your legs open and found your clit beneath your panties. You gasped, bucked against him, against his hold, his crotch. He wouldn’t budge, his mouth scraping, tasting you, your neck despite your jewelry, leaving behind delicious bites that left your body mindless, numb to everything but him.

“You have no idea how much I've been hoping for this moment,” he finally said, sucking, biting your shoulder a little too hard, rubbed your clit a little too slow, and yet. You whined for him, because of him, craving all he had to give, indifferent to whether it was right or wrong. And despite how overwhelming it was, his fingers still moved so slow, so softly against your clit- you couldn't help the desperate moan that escaped your lips, in desire to get closer, to- He growled, “Just like this, kitty, I want you just like this. Pliant, desperate for more.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His words didn't help; instead, they only made you squirm more. You knew he was doing it on purpose, yet damn it, you needed more; so desperate for this delicious torture to end.

“Please,” you said, whimpering.

“Please what?” He rubbed his nose teasingly against yours, a smirk dancing on his lips as he awaited your answer. With his grip, he pressed you against him a little more until your pussy was pressed against his clothed, hard cock. "Is this what you want?"

"Y-yes."

He laughed harshly.

You couldn't help it, you blushed hard after he said, "So you finally admit you want me.” He nibbled on your ear, whispered against it. "You will get what you want sweetheart, no rush. There’s something else I want to do first.” 

Without lowering you from the wall against which he was pinned you, he lifted you up and caught you in his arms. He wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist and carried you to the bed.

Gripping his shoulders, yourt heart racing. Maintaining eye contact, he leaned in and gently set you on the edge of the bed. You scooted back, feeling excited, biting your lips. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and husky as he quickly grabbed and pulled you by the thighs towards the edge. The way he slid you across the bed, this easy and a little roughly, took your breath away and was definitely a big turn-on for you. He leaned over, slipped his fingers into the hem of your panties and pulled them down your thighs too roughly, tearing your lace panties, but neither of you cared at that moment.

“I want to taste you, all of you,” he growled, and brought his mouth back to your core.

Thanks to this position you were completely exposed to his wanting mouth, and he fucking knew it, his fingers back inside your cunt, mouth insistently sucking on your clit.

"Shit!" You loudly exclaimed, back arching off the bed. 

He held you still by the hips with one arm while his other hand kept going, thrusting into your clenching pussy.

One hand gripped the sheets while the other held the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his curls, closing your eyes in utter ecstasy. The feel of his mouth devouring your pussy was a relentless, powerful pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before - the way he tore through your opening with his appendage, the way his nose bumped and his mustache tickled, the way his lips found their way to suck so sweetly on your clit. And God, the way it sounded - you would feel pretty embarrassed if you weren't overwhelmed by pure lust-, you were soaking his face, but neither of you cared enough to stop.

You forced your eyes to open, you didn't want to miss out on memorizing him kneeling before you, eating you out. The moment you managed to look at him, you realized it was a mistake.

He was looking at you.

At your face.

Your eyes.

Taking in your reactions. And goddamn, his eyes, were completely blown away in lust. He was more than enjoying having you all over his mouth. “Fucking delicious,” he grunted, diving his fingers back in.

It was your undoing.

You could feel yourself silently screaming with pleasure, your body trembling and mind blank, but for the waves of delight that kept coming through you, he hadn’t stopped his movements despite how tight your cunt gripped his fingers in your end.

"You're gorgeous," he purred, biting your calves and making you yelp. He licked away the sting once he'd marked you. In the haze of the moment, you felt the bed shake and his hands on your back, fingers unclasping your bra.

Before he settled, he took care of the rest of his clothes, impressive girth hard and throbbing and already wet with precum finally out of his pants.

The sight sent you reeling.

“Like what you see?”

Was he kidding?

He was fucking beautiful.

You bit your lip, nodded.

He smirked and was quick to get in position, harsh lips taking your breath away, body pushing you on your back. Holding onto him, you let him open you up, let him guide his cock right to your cunt.

Now the moment was definitely urgent.

He gave it a couple of flicks around your core, then he pushed in. He took you in, your gasp and moan filling the air. When he moved, it was a slow yet sure thrust that had you seeing stars, and you keened.

You mewled, "Yes."

He held you by the cheeks, lips barely a hair's breadth away, while his grip shifted and tightened around your waist.

“You feel so good," he breathed, speaking against the valley between your breasts.

Harsh, hungry hands on your breasts, on all over your skin made your flesh pleasantly crawl. Your breaths mingled when lips melded as one. Small mewls came from your throat while his hips moved against yours. And then he sped his movements while his mouth drank more of you up, the only air you took in his.

The only air he took in yours.

He tightened his grip, surely leaving marks where he groped. Harder, faster, not giving you a chance to take everything in and commit it to memory, he finally angled his hips differently.

“And you are tight, wet, warm,” he added, kissing you again.

When he heard you shout with pleasure, he made sure to keep going at it, hard and fast, so that you couldn't catch your breath, your body tensing up with the force of his hips, his cock stretching your pussy out so deliciously. You helped him by locking your legs behind his back, making him go impossibly deep, throwing your head back in ecstasy. It left your neck bare for his hungry lips and teeth, and he mercilessly marked you with them, soon after meeting your tits with his mouth again, showing them devotion while keep thrusting mercilessly, the sound of flesh against flesh was like a delicious symphony to his moans and groans, and your mewls and moans.

His lips released your breasts and trailed your jaw all the way to your ear. His pace shortened, quickened. So you begged him not to stop, not even thinking about it, and he promised he wouldn’t, couldn’t, not until he felt you gripping hard around his cock, not until he broke you.

He had a promise to fulfill, after all.

He growled the nickname he had given you, with fervor, with passion. He was close, and so were you but, you needed more, needed a bit of a push to send you reeling again. And you weren’t quite sure how, but he found your clit, and stroked it enough to give you just what you needed.

The bastard was an expert.

Your orgasm crashed through you, sight gone into utter darkness, muscles tight with tension released in such a perfect, bittersweet way, raking your nails down his back.

“Fuck,” he cursed loud and long, holding you in place while his own orgasm filled you up to the brim.

The raging fire was now extinguished, its gentle flame still brushing against your veins in slow, tender strokes. It was similar to the way you both touched each other, hands softly trailing up and down wherever they could reach. His touch felt different from before, while yours was a promise of what could be. A whispered kiss. Eyes brimming with post-coital contentment.

That moment was so special—the way all the passionate sounds of love just a moment ago faded into peaceful silence. You couldn’t fight off sleep anymore as he softened and pulled away, collapsing onto the pillow. Before you dozed off, you thought you heard him mumbling something, though you weren't really sure.

If you were more awake, you could have sworn he whispered, “Te amo.”

The morning light poured into the room like liquid gold, seeping through the tall glass panel and gently warming your face. The curtains, drawn only halfway, allowed the sun to flood the entire space, casting a soft, radiant glow that danced on the walls. From your position, you had a breathtaking view of the iconic Eiffel Tower, towering majestically in the distance, a reminder of the enchanting city around you.

You were lying with your back to Harry, and there was something strangely nice about the sound of his breath right behind you. It felt like forever since you’d woken up next to someone.

One of his arms was draped around your waist, resting on the sheet, and his warmth felt like a cozy shield. But even with the calmness of the moment, there was a twist of unease in your stomach. Last night had been incredible, full of passion, but the uncertainty about what was coming next hung over you like a dark cloud.

You were carrying this secret in your heart that felt like a heavy anchor, and you knew you had to face it eventually.

As Harry shifted behind you, his lips brushed against the top of your head. “You were talking in your sleep,” he said quietly.

You were taken aback—how long had he been awake? Wait, did he just say you were talking in your sleep?

“Are you serious?” you asked, curious about what you might have said. “You didn’t get it wrong, did you?”

“I definitely heard my name,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Okay, I didn’t know I even did that,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “Did I say anything else?”

“Sort of, and you even meowed a bit. You’re such a little kitty,” he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “I think you’re just making that up.”

“Nope, not at all. It was real, just like you did last night. It was like; meow, meow, meow,” he joked, imitating a cat's sound.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Those moments were fresh in your mind—he was right, ugh. You nudged him playfully in the chest.

“Come on. Stop exaggerating.”

“Want me to prove it?”

You gasped as the hand that had been wrapped around you slipped inside the sheet and between your legs.

“Don't, don't, don't, please,” you struggled, squeezing your thighs together with all your strength, resisting. His other hand found your armpit and tickled you, causing you to immediately release the pressure in your thighs.

Oh, that was too much.

He leaned over you and when his hand touched your folds, forcing his fingers inside, your heart began to race.

“Okay, okay, you win! I give up!” you giggled, punching his chest, and he laughed.

He playfully teased you for a little while longer as you both giggled. But then, your eyes met, and suddenly the mood shifted. With his gaze deepening, he leaned in and kissed you, sending a rush of warmth through your body. Just as the moment felt perfect, his phone began ringing. But he didn’t care; he kept kissing you. The kiss broke only when the phone rang insistently. He sat up, grabbed his phone from the bedside table, checked the screen, canceled the call, and tossed it back down.

“Maybe it’s important. Why didn’t you answer?” you asked.

He turned to you, “Nothing is more important than you right now.” He then pulled the sheet off you, and you quickly grabbed it to cover yourself.

“What are you doing?” you asked, surprised.

"We need a shower; we're a bit dirty, don't you think?" he replied, tugging at the sheet again, this time overpowering you.

You felt completely exposed, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. He chuckled, put his knee on the bed, and scooped you up into his lap.

“Stop! I can walk by myself,” you protested.

“Nobody said otherwise,” he grinned.

With a smug look, he carried you to the bathroom, clearly enjoying the moment. The bathroom was huge, with a big jacuzzi, a spacious shower, and a tall vanity cabinet. Harry set you down and followed you into the shower. It was nice that he was giving you so much attention, but it also made things trickier. You didn’t want to say anything that might hurt him, especially since you knew you’d have to come clean eventually. For now, you just had to play along until that moment came when there would be no more secrets.

After you both got out of the shower, he handed you a robe from the closet and slipped one on himself. You asked him to excuse you because you needed to use the bathroom. Finally alone, you settled onto the most luxurious toilet seat you’d ever sat on, putting your head in your hands and thinking. You knew you had to tell him soon; it was better for him to hear it from you directly. The longer this charade went on, the messier things would get. Sooner or later, you’d run into someone who knew -real- Melanie, and that scared you. Before last night, you weren’t worried about that, but everything had changed.

You could feel a strong connection between you two, and it scared you how intense it was.

It just didn’t feel right.

This had to end.

Suddenly, a sharp pang gripped your heart, urging you to stand up. You stood before the mirror, the figure in the robe felt like a stranger, unfamiliar. This life felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. But deep down, a hopeful part of you whispered that this could actually be your life, and that Harry would accept you just as you are.

You really wanted to believe that.

With all your heart.

But this was no time to be naïve; you had to think rationally.

You had to.

You turned on the tap, splashing cold water on your face to shake off the feelings. Just then, you heard a light knock at the door.

“Are you planning to spend the whole day in there?” Harry joked, his tone playful yet warm.

A smile spread across your face and you sighed deeply as you opened the door. Stepping into the room, you saw Harry already dressed in a cream long-sleeved shirt and black jeans - casual yet stylish, which suited him perfectly. As he put on his watch, he looked at you, "Breakfast will be here soon."

“Really? In the room?” you asked, your eyes lighting up in surprise.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your excitement. “Yes, in the room.”

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted you two, and you both turned to see Oliver standing there, looking a bit flustered.

"Why didn't you answer the phone?" Oliver asked quickly, his eyes darting over Harry's shoulder to you.

Feeling uneasy under his gaze, you instinctively blushed and stepped further into the room.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

“Well, I… I was just checking,” Oliver said, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Checking?”

Oliver cleared his throat. “I meant— if you need anything. Oh, and they called, they're expecting you today.”

“Awesome, thanks,” Harry said.

“No problem.”

"Anything else you want to say?"

“N-no, I’ll be in the lobby,” he replied, turning around.

As Harry closed the door behind Oliver, he turned to you, looking lost in thought.

“Is everything okay?”

He shrugged slightly. “It’s just Oliver acting a bit weird. But it’s probably nothing.” He looked at you and asked, “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

“It’s just... the dresses you bought are gorgeous, but…” You glanced down at the shreds of your panties on the floor. “I need some new underwear.”

With a cheeky grin, Harry placed his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s my bad. But don’t worry; I’ll fix that.” He went over to the closet and came out with a white shirt. “Here, wear this.”

“But it’s your shirt,” you frowned.

“It is, yes.”

“You want me to wear this?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, still grinning.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got no other option. Unless you want to walk around naked,” he smirked. “I’d be totally cool with that, though.”

You squinted as you took the shirt from him. “You’ll be waiting forever for that to happen.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. He chuckled as he went to open it.

After enjoying a delightful breakfast on the balcony with a breathtaking view of the city, everything Harry ordered for you arrived in the room. After all, it was he who had torn your panties, so he owed you. You glanced at the bag, and picked up a stylish black lace bra; it was exactly your size.

He was behind you, leaning against the closet with his arms folded and watching.

“How could you possibly know my exact size?” you asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, but you silenced him with a gesture of your hand. “Don't answer that.”

He laughed. “Come on, get dressed. We need to get going.”

You shot him a glare. “Not with you watching—turn around!”

“Seriously?”

“What do you think?”

He frowned. ’I already saw all of you last night, what's the point of hiding it now?’

“That was last night,” you snapped.

He blinked in astonishment, clearly impressed. “You truly are an extraordinary woman.”

"Yes I am. Now turn around, Mr. Castillo,” you said, twirling your finger at him.

He sighed, a little defeated, but gave in. “Fine," he murmured. "But just so you know, tonight I’m going to make you beg me to take your clothes off.”

“Did you say something?” 

“Nothing at all,” he replied, a cheeky grin forming. His mind raced with bold ideas, and your attitude and stubbornness only fueled his eagerness.

It was a challenge, and he was ready to accept it.

"Oh my God!"

You almost fainted from excitement as you stared at the sports cars in all their splendor, your mouth agape. The welcoming team at the luxury rental place truly made you feel at ease, sharing in the exhilaration of these remarkable vehicles.

"Are you telling me I can drive one of these beauties if I want to?" you asked, still unable to take your eyes off the amazing cars. A huge smile spread across your face, reminiscent of a child who had just found a stash of candy.

Harry chuckled, "I've gotten you flowers, clothes, jewellery - but I've never seen you so excited about anything"

"I'm sorry, but how could I not be? Just look at them!"

He placed his hand on your shoulder. "So which one are you going to choose? I'm really curious."

Your eyes scanned the lineup until they landed on the car that truly stole your heart. You walked over, gently brushing your hand along the sleek bonnet, and declared, "This one—the Mustang GT500."

"American muscle, huh? Nice choice."

"You mean I can really drive this?"

"That's why I brought you here, kitty," he smiled.

He had listened to your many conversations about cars, enjoying your passion for them. Apparently, he never grew bored of your car talk, and he wanted to surprise you like this.

You felt unworthy of such a thoughtful man

As you gripped the steering wheel of the red Mustang on the track, a huge smile spread across your face - it had been a long time since you had felt this good. Every time you stepped on the gas, the engine roared and you took the corners like a pro, the tyres screeching on the tarmac. Harry looked a little nervous, but he couldn't help praising your driving skills, saying how well you handled the car.

When you reached the end of the track, you lingered for a moment, reluctant to say goodbye to this baby.

"Harry, thank you. That was even more amazing than I could have imagined."

"You've never driven a sports car before?" he asked.

"I have." It wasn’t entirely a lie. You had driven it once—Nate's Lamborghini. It was one of those days when you were cleaning up after Melanie. While Nate was in the backseat making out with her—they were both drunk, and sometimes it turned into lust—yes, it was really shitty and disgusting. But the only good thing about that day was that you got to drive his car. "But not for long."

"I'm glad I made you happy," he replied.

"Yeah, you definitely did. Thanks, Harry." It was the truth. As you looked into his eyes, he leaned in closer and whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "Be mine, and I’ll show up at your place in the morning with any car you want. Just think about it."

"Harry," you murmured.

"Listen, I don't want to pressure you, but I need a clear answer. I'm a straightforward guy—doubt and uncertainty aren't something I handle well. I've waited this long because of this undeniable feeling I have for you. My instincts have never led me astray, and I’m sure they won’t this time either. So tell me, don’t you think it’s about time? Don’t you think I deserve an answer?"

His brown eyes sparkled like gems. You wanted nothing more than to be with him always, to plead with him to never leave and to make you his. But there was something you had to sort out first.

"You deserve so much more," you said, your voice shaking a bit. You took a deep breath."Tonight, I’ll give you my final answer, okay?"

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. "All right," he said, smiling as he brushed his lips over your knuckles.

When you got back to the hotel, it was dark, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were going to deal with tonight. It was making you super nervous. Harry was outside, talking on the phone, while you were in the lobby, buried in the couch and lost in your thoughts. Oliver noticed you were alone and came over to talk to you.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” you replied, caught off guard.

“Look, I found out everything; the dating agency called me.”

You froze.

“Don’t worry, I know it’s not your fault, but this can’t go on. You understand that, don’t you?”

You nodded, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I wanted to talk to Harry, but he’s way too attached to you. I think it’s better if you tell him yourself. He has a reputation to maintain—you know he’s well-known. The longer this goes on, the more it messes with his image. Just tell him before things go further, or I’ll have to, and the head of the matchmaking agency might get involved. And trust me, that’ll hurt him a lot more. He should hear it from you.”

“I’ll tell him, I promise. Tonight.”

“Thank you. Oh, he’s coming. Wipe your tears,” he said, handing you a tissue from the table before standing up.

What?

Were you actually crying?

You took the tissue and quickly dried your eyes, sniffling while trying to pull yourself together.

“Melanie, look who’s here,” you heard Harry’s voice.

You almost had a heart attack when you turned around. Jack, Melanie’s dad, was standing right in front of you with a forced smile that screamed trouble.

“I just ran into Jack,” Harry said, looking at you. But then his face changed as he noticed how frozen you were, shaking a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Harry, can you give me and my daughter a minute?” Jack said, still staring at you.

Harry paused, frowning as he sensed something was wrong. Oliver put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s give them some privacy,” he suggested.

Harry nodded, looking unsure, but his eyes were still on you. “I’ll be in the room,” he said, clueless about what was really going on. He thought it was just a father-daughter thing. You wished it was that simple.

As they walked toward the elevator, Jack made sure they were out of earshot and pointed to the seat behind you. “Why don’t you sit down? We need to talk.”

“Jack, I—”

What were you even going to say?

Damn it.

“Sit down, please.”

You did as he said, and he sat across from you, looking at you. “I know everything.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“Do you think my daughter has someone handling her secret affairs and I don't know about it?”

Of course, he should have. Jack was smart and clearly one step ahead of you.

“But if you knew—”

“Why didn’t I stop you?” He sighed. “I wanted to handle this when I got back to New York, but then I found out you were here. I was already in Marseille, so I flew in last night to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“Harry? I could have, but honestly, it’s embarrassing for me. I’m not mad at you; it’s my dumb daughter who messed everything up. I can only be upset with you for not telling me sooner. We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had.”

“Jack, I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked.

"No, I don't blame you. But you have to take responsibility for this. You need to finish things with Harry—trust me, it’s for the best. Go talk to him right now and just explain.” He stood up. “I’ll be outside, waiting for you. Just go and do what needs to be done.”

You watched him walk away, your head spinning with thoughts, and didn't even notice Oliver coming over.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"The same thing you told me earlier. He said I should just end things with him."

"Are you going to do it?"

You looked at him, wiping a tear from your cheek with your hand. You nodded firmly.

He nodded back. "He's in the room, waiting for you," he said. You were glad he looked at you like a friend, the last thing you wanted was pity.

You felt enough pity for yourself; you really didn't need any more.

Harry was pouring himself a whisky when his phone rang. He took a sip while glancing at the screen. It was a number he didn’t feel like answering. When it rang again a moment later, he shook his glass, listening to the ice cubes jingle, and finally sighed before picking it up.

“There you are,” said the voice on the other end.

“What do you want, Lucy?”

“Hey, slow down! I’m only calling because I’m worried about you. I just found out what happened; it’s horrible.”

Harry paused, taking another sip. “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the mess with the matchmaking company. That’s what you get for choosing someone other than my agency. You should really sue that woman.”

“Wait, what are you talking about? What woman? What mess?”

At that moment, you opened the door and walked in. Harry’s back was turned to you as he was still on the phone. When he heard you come in, he turned to face you, his expression hardening.

"What the... Didn't you know? I'm talking about the girl who pretended to be Melanie Johnson and tricked you. Given your social status, her intentions were pretty obvious. People like her are dangerous; you should get rid of her before something bad happens. Oliver should have informed you by now; I can't believe he didn't. Maybe you need a new assistant. And just so you know, starting a new dating service would be a good idea—something like that would never happen with my---" He hung up angrily, keeping his eyes fixed on you. The intensity of his gaze startled you; you had never seen him like that before.

“H-Harry,” you stammered.

“Is it true?” His voice was cold.

You swallowed hard. Had he found out everything?

He took a step toward you. “Your name isn’t Melanie. Is that true?”

You closed your eyes and sighed. “That’s right. I’m not Melanie Johnson. I’m—”

“Why?” he said, taking another step closer. “Why did you do it? Is this what you’ve been hiding from me? All this time you’ve been lying to my face. But why?”

“Harry, let me explain. I—”

“What a fool I was. I thought there was something special between us. I thought it would be different this time, but it was all a lie.” He seemed to be speaking to himself.

You stepped closer to him. “Let me explain. I am—”

“Get out."

You froze. “W-what?”

His eyes were icy as he looked at you. “Didn’t you hear me? Get out.”

You frowned. “You said you'd listen to me. Why won't you let me explain?”

In a fit of rage, Harry threw his phone against the wall, and it shattered into pieces upon impact. Startled, you watched as he opened the door and pointed outside. “Get out now.”

Frustration bubbled inside you as you fought to suppress the tears threatening to fall. You walked to the door and glanced back at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze. “I knew you'd break my heart. Thanks for proving me right,” you said in a cracking voice before leaving the suite.

He slammed the door behind you with a loud bang, making you jump, but it only urged you to run toward the lift. You had to get out of there immediately.

You ran out of the lift and hurried to the hotel’s exit. You couldn’t stop sobbing, and people turned to look at you, but you didn’t care. Your mind was spinning; all you wanted was to escape, to disappear forever. Oliver recognized you and started to call your name, but he didn’t even know it. Instead, he just watched as you dashed out through the hotel’s revolving door, then headed to the lift to check on Harry.

As soon as you were outside, you kept running, desperate to get away from the hotel. But after a few minutes, the cold wind hit you, and you realized something terrible: this wasn’t your city, New York; it was a completely foreign place. You didn’t know the streets, didn’t know the people. The short dress you were wearing left your shoulders exposed, and without your coat, you shivered. Passersby looked at you strangely, their gazes lingering on your expensive dress, high heels, flashy necklace, and earrings. You wanted to shout at them, “I’m just an ordinary girl with an empty wallet!”

Suddenly, Jack came to mind; he said he would wait for you outside. “Oh, what an idiot I am,” you thought.

Forcing yourself to ignore the stares, you walked back toward the hotel street, searching for Jack. Where was he? Then, suddenly, you heard a voice behind you. A man spoke to you in French, but it was clear from his tone that he wasn’t friendly.

When Oliver walked into the room, he was shocked to see pieces of a smashed phone and glass all over the floor. Harry had his back turned, staring out the window at the city. Oliver approached him carefully, knowing deep down that his worst fears had come true. Harry caught his reflection in the glass and turned his head slightly.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, sounding frustrated.

Oliver had been expecting the question, but he didn’t know how to answer. “Man, I’m really sorry. I found out yesterday and was going to tell you, but I thought it would be better if she told you.”

Harry turned to face Oliver. “You should have told me, Oliver. I should have heard it from you, not from my ex, dammit.”

“What did you say? Wait a minute, did Lucy call you? God damn it, I thought she was the one who told you.”

“What difference would it have made?” Harry shot back, his voice tinged with anger. “She’s a crook—a serpent in disguise who’s deceived me all this time. How did she pull it off? She even fooled Jack. What exactly was her scheme? Is she a gold-digger or something?”

“What do you mean? She didn’t give you the full story? They spoke to Jack, and she was supposed to fill you in.”

“Does she know him?” Harry asked incredulously, disbelief etched on his face.

“Of course she does. She’s working as a housekeeper at his house. Jack’s daughter, Melanie, forced her into this. The real Melanie didn’t want to meet you face-to-face, so she used her friends to hack the system. Jack must have been too embarrassed to come down here himself. But like me, he wanted her to tell you—”

In a sudden burst of emotion, Harry seized Oliver’s collar, their eyes locked in an intense stare. “What did you just say? What do you mean she was forced?”

“You heard me. The poor girl is like Melanie's puppet; she had no choice in the matter. It’s all part of a twisted game to keep you from marrying Melanie I guess. She’s trapped in it.”

Time seemed to freeze for Harry as he absorbed the weight of Oliver’s words. “What have I done?” he muttered himself, his heart ached.

“But I thought she told you. Didn’t she?”

Harry shook his head, his heart sinking. “She was going to, but I lost it—I was furious, and—”

“Dude... What have you done?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, a wave of regret crashing over him, as if he were drowning in his own foolishness. “I told her to get out,” he muttered.

“Geez, isn’t that a bit harsh? No wonder she ran out of here in tears."

He shot Oliver a sharp look, panic flashing across his face. “What? Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. She just bolted from the hotel and disappeared into the streets."

Harry's gaze darted to the coat abandoned on the chair, a symbol of the moment he now regretted. He snatched it up, determination igniting within him, and rushed toward the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Oliver called out, his voice filled with worry.

“I’m going to find her!” Harry shouted back, his heart racing as he sprinted toward the elevator, desperate to make things right.

“Look, dude, I don’t get your language. Just back off, alright?”

But the guy kept closing in on you. You didn’t need to understand him to figure out what he wanted. As you stepped back, your heel caught on the cobblestone, and you went down. At that moment, a fancy car pulled up, and a man got out and walked over to you while the other guy turned around and took off. The man in the suit offered you his hand.

“Are you a New Yorker too?” He smiled.

You took his hand and got up. “Yeah, you too?”

“Yeah. I heard your accent when you told that guy to ‘back off.’”

You chuckled nervously, saying, “He really freaked me out; he was coming right at me.” 

“But you were ready to fight him. I guess it’s not the first time you’ve had to run from creeps, right?” he replied with a grin. 

“True,” you laughed. “There were definitely some in New York.”

He chuckled and offered his hand again. “I’m Alan.”

You shook his hand. “Thanks, Alan.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

Just then, someone called your name from behind. You turned and saw Jack.

About time. You felt a wave of relief wash over you.

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you! Where have you been?” He was worried.

“I—I got lost and—”

“Jack?”

“Alan!”

They hugged, and you were surprised to see that they knew each other. Jack turned to you and said, “You get in the car, and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and did as he instructed. Alan watched you intently while getting into the car, then turned to Jack.

“I thought you were in Marseille,” Alan said.

“I was, but then I came here. I had some urgent matters to take care of,” Jack replied.

“Is this pretty lady your daughter or something?” Alan asked.

Jack sighed. “I wish she were, but no. Let’s just say she’s someone I know. Listen, Alan, I really have to go now. See you.”

“See you, man,” Alan responded.

Jack hopped into the car beside you and instructed the driver to head to the airport, where his private jet was waiting to take you back home. Your phone buzzed insistently; it was Harry calling -actually it was Oliver's number but you knew it was him-.

You ignored all the calls.

“Do you have feelings for him?” Jack asked, his tone direct yet gentle.

You looked straight at him, then averted your gaze, unable to deny the truth in your heart. He picked up on the unspoken words and nodded slowly.

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t go there if you care about yourself, you silly girl.”

You nodded.

“What about him? Do you think he has feelings for you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. Even if he did at one point, he doesn’t anymore.”

Jack nodded. “I’m sorry about what happened. But when we get back, I can’t let you work in my house anymore. You understand why, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,”  you murmured.

“I want you to know I’ll provide a good severance package for all your service up to now and for everything you’ve been through. If you ever need help in the future, you know my number.”

Jack was hot-tempered but had a noble soul. He considered those he trusted as family, regardless of their social status. You looked at him, feeling grateful.

“Thank you, Jack,” you said with a smile.

He nodded. “Sure.”

All the while, your phone was ringing insistently, and you were ignoring Harry’s calls.

Why the hell was he calling?

Did he want to curse at you or something?

Finally, Jack held out his hand. “Give it to me; let me talk to him.”

You hesitated at first, but eventually, you handed it over. As he spoke on the phone, you looked out the window, feeling nervous about hearing his voice.

"Harry, it's Jack. Please stop calling her; I will be your point of contact on this matter from now on. I'd like to invite you to an apology dinner when you return to New York, and I'm willing to provide compensation as well. I'll be in touch with you soon." Then he hung up.

“Damn it, Jack,” Harry snarled.

He stood in front of the hotel’s front door, then something glittering on the floor caught his attention. He bent down and picked it up; it was one of your earrings—the one he had given you as a present.

“She must have dropped it while running,” he muttered.

Oliver came running toward him from across the street, panting. “They saw Jack leaving, but I couldn’t find any trace of the girl. Did you manage to reach her?”

Harry continued to stare at the earring in his hand. “Ollie.”

“Yeah?”

“Call the pilot; we’re heading back to New York.”

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

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[tbaluver]

Hi! May I request headcanons with a reader who at first glance looks cold ,mean and introverted, but then when LaDs boys get closer to her, they realize that she is quite kind and sweet.

I also want to say that I adore your work, seriously, thanks to you, I open Tumbler every day and re-read your works. You're one of my fav authors ❣️

I hope everything goes well for you!

(´｡• ᵕ •｡) ♡

When You Look Mean and Introverted- The Love And DeepSpace Men

⤷ synopsis: when reader looks cold, mean, and introverted but actually she's kind and sweet! parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi my lovely anonnie ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ it is such an honor to be your favorite author! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) i love re-reading my favorite authors works and to hear you re-read my works makes my silly writings feel so seen and appreciated so thank you for supporting my works it means a lot to me truly -`♡´- i hope this was okay lmk ! i ended up writing a story build/ up to their relationship but enjoy reading luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two first crossed paths during a Hunter’s mission when you found him asleep. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but after several unexpected encounters, he started to notice your cold and mean expression. Worry started to wash over him every time you met. Were you upset with him? Did you not want to resonate with him the first time? Do you not want him to be there? Even though you two hardly spoke, he couldn’t help but feel like he did something wrong. He has been looking for you through galaxies and back and he did not want to mess this up.

It wasn’t until another unexpected mission that you two crossed paths again. The energy fluctuations from Wanderers were rising and you found yourself in need of help. Luckily, he was right there by your side, swiftly taking down each one left and right before they could inflict any more serious harm on you.

He rushed to your side to check for your injuries after all the Wanderers were gone. To his surprise, you complimented him, shattering his belief that you might dislike him. Your warm smile brought a surprising warmth that eased his worries and revealed a kindness he didn’t notice before.

You asked if he was any part of the Hunter’s association and when Xavier replied no, you encouraged him to join, expressing how much potential you saw in him. It was at that moment he realized you weren’t unapproachable at all- your kindness and support shined through your reserved exterior, showing a thoughtful and caring person beneath.

You two would be later assigned for missions together and your conversations became more frequent and he began to see glimpses of your thoughtful and kind personality behind your reserved exterior. He had no problem anymore that you were quiet and you two would enjoy your time together.

As you both continued to spend time together, whether strategizing for missions or simply just enjoying each other’s company, the walls between you began to crumble as if they were never there. He was more than happy to know that you were more comfortable with him and pondered on taking your relationship to another step.

Zayne:

It had been years since you two last saw each other, the last time when you were just kids. Now both of you were adults, your paths crossed again in an unexpected way. He was your doctor and you were his patient. At first glance, he quickly realized that your expression might come off as reserved, something he understood all too well as many people perceived him the same way.

It would take a few patient check-ups and casual conversations to confirm that you were just a reserved and introverted person who needed time to open up to others.

You started becoming more open with him. You shared stories about your life and your missions and asked about his life. You found yourself texting him outside of the hospital, checking in to see if he’d slept well or had eaten that day.

During your next patient check up, you brought over his favorite sweet treats- something you remembered him pointing out of his favorite bakery nearby the hospital. A small smile crept across his face and he couldn’t resist taking a quick bite of one two before diving into your examination.

You couldn’t tell from his stoic expression but he was melting inside. He felt grateful that each moment you spent together brought you two closer and he was eager to find ways to connect outside of your patient check-ups.

While he examines you, he pondered whether to invite you out after his shift or to suggest getting together the next time he was free to grab a meal. The thought of spending time with you after all this time, fills him with excitement.

Rafayel:

You were the first human he would ever find intimidating. Your first encounter took place in his studio during a mission. While he fought alongside you against the Wanderers, you barely exchanged any words with him. Your cold expression left him feeling intimidated and uncertain. Luckily, he manages to get a few words out of you and somehow convinces you to be his bodyguard.

He was definitely freaking out in his head when you were coming over to his studio. What could he say? What could you both do? He was worried the next encounter would end up in a disaster and he would have to wait another hundred years to meet you again. He was not willing to die in this lifetime just die in embarrassment.

He was internally a mess when you were over at his studio. Every time you went quiet during your chats, his nerves kicked in, but he kept talking, hoping to make you feel at ease. He hoped that by sharing more, he could help you feel comfortable. He would never force you to talk but he would always leave the conversation open for you to join whenever.

But then, it’s as if the sea gods have heard him. When you spoke up, you referenced a topic from his earlier conversations. It dawned on him that you had been listening intently all along. You responded thoughtfully, engaging with his stories in a way that made him feel valued and cared for. That realization made his anxiety inside of him transform into something much more warmer and more at ease.

He would later then ask you questions, if you were comfortable with it, about you and your life. The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, as if it had always been this way. You two could easily chat for hours and he was more than happy to listen or talk about your stories, enjoying every second of your growing bond.

You both grew closer during your visit to the hospital when he had a serious injury. As you both strolled through the hospital garden, he watched in awe as you spotted a fish struggling in the fountain. Without hesitation, you knelt down, entirely focused on rescuing the little creature.

Seeing your determination and kindness warmed his heart. It reminded him of the layers beneath your reserved exterior and stirs the past  memories from 800 years ago when you selflessly tried to save him. The echoes of the past resonated deeply within him.

As you finally freed the fish, he couldn’t help but let out a smile. His heart aches with a longing for you, each shared moment igniting a deeper desire. With every second spent together, he felt the distance between you shrink, drawing him closer to the warmth of your presence.

Sylus:

He wasn’t scared or worried-at first, he liked a challenge. You were mysterious and quiet and it genuinely captivated him, sparking a genuine curiosity to learn more about you. Even though your first encounter or him trying to force you to resonate with him wasn’t ideal, he was determined to bridge the gap between you two and show you in depth of who he truly was.

He discovered there was much more to your personality through Luke and Kieran while you doodle in your book back in your room that you stayed at in his estate. An unfamiliar feeling stirred within him- an ache of longing and a mix with a hint of jealousy. He couldn’t shake the desire to be the one to uncover the layers of your personality.

One time he passed by you in his estate, the silence between you felt heavy and he couldn’t help but assume you still held some resentment toward him, not that he could blame you. But he refused to give up.

He invites you to a fancy auction where you could find the protocore you needed for your mission. Yet, his true mission was to learn more about you, to connect on a deeper level.

On the night of the auction, you both dress to impress and he couldn’t help but spoil you in compliments before you both left the estate. He also can’t hide the amusement on his face as he manages to convince you to link arms as you enter together. To his delight, you didn’t protest, your smile warming up the building but more so, him. The playful banter and shared glances as you walked in together only fueled his hope that you just might be opening up to him after all.

This has been the most that you two have talked through the entire night and each second felt like a gift. Hearing your laughter was music to his ears and hearing your stories was something he would want to listen to for hours. It was then he realized that maybe you were just reserved after all and how he wished your encounters could’ve been more different and how he regretted handling them

Unfortunately what would’ve been a perfect night was ruined by an ambush of Wanderers unleashed at the auction. As instinct, he shielded you from harm, taking any several blows himself. He barely flinched as he focused on defending you. Together, you fought side by side, the adrenaline surging you both until the last Wanderer fell.

As the chaos died down, you rushed to his side, the concern written on your face as you saw fresh wounds on him. Some had already healed, but others were fresh and needed attention, completely oblivious to the fact he could just heal himself. He watches you intently as you carefully tended to him, your gentle touch igniting a warmth within him that he so had been longing for.

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips and a small smile crept onto his face as he took in the sight of you. Maybe it was a perfect night to him after all. It seemed your reserved walls were crumbling down. The way you tended to him spoke volumes and the connection that he has been wanting has sparked beyond attraction.

"Did the kitty finally put away her claws?"

"Shut up Sy..."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Malefic Attachment.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST)

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Platonic (At The Moment) Yandere Malleus, Manipulation, Deliberate Social Isolation, and Obsessive/Delusional Behavior.

The worst thing about you, Malleus had decided, was that you’d chosen to be his friend.

‘Chosen’, because you’d been the one to approach him, a dazzling smile painted across your lips and a dozen questions about his life as royalty in a faraway land on your tongue, and ‘worst’, because he couldn’t think of a single other thing about you that he despised so fervently, or for that matter, that he disliked at all. He couldn’t be sure when he came to such a grim conclusion, although it had most likely been some time between the fourth time you’d sought him out in the minutes between your classes and the seventh you apologized for having to cut your conversation so short, nor was he entirely certain why the thought of having any claim to you left him so unsettled, despite how innocent your relationship was.

Briefly, he’d considered keeping you at a distance, telling his retainers to make sure you stayed at arm’s length, but he hated the thought of inconveniencing Silver and Sebek, and he hated the thought of having no claim to you at all even more. He’d never hurt you, nor was he possessive by nature. Most days, the only thing he craved was to sit by your side and—

“Malleus?” He felt a shoulder nudge into his side, a glanced down to find you, of course – staring up at him, smiling as if you already knew he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to listen properly. Immediately, it was all he could do to settle into place and smile back.

Most days, the only thing he wanted was to sit by your side and be with you, and it would’ve been a shame to squander such a golden opportunity to do just that.

He moved to apologize, to explain himself, but there was no need. You were already rolling your eyes and returning to your previous posture; curled into yourself, your legs folded against your chest, chin resting on your knees. It was strange – what lengths such a small creature would take to make itself even smaller. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing, the way he might’ve found a plush toy endearing, or a particularly charming prey animal. “I just don’t understand what’s going on,” you sighed, slumping further into yourself. Instantly, Malleus knew that whatever the cause of your distress was, it would not survive much longer than that night.

Still, he listened intently, as you went on. “I mean, I have to be the problem, right? I’m the only common factor – well, me and NRC, but it’s not like people are avoiding school.” Another sigh. This time, when you buried your face in your knees, it remained there. “They’re just avoiding me. I must’ve done something wrong.”

“Never,” he said, because it was true. Because you were infallible, save for your poor taste in companionship. “I can’t imagine what would lead you to believe such a terrible thing. Did someone tell you that?”

There was no real point to asking. He would’ve known if someone had planted such a vile thought in your head; would’ve dealt with it on the spot. Despite his reservations, Malleus made a hobby out of your safekeeping. If something were to happen to you, a human brazen enough to share his company so often, it would’ve reflected poorly on him.

(It’d occurred to him that you were not the first human to ever approach him, nor would you be the last, but Malleus opted against lingering on such technicalities. You were the only human to enjoy the spoils of his protection, and that was enough to make you wholly unique.)

You didn’t answer, not at first. Instead, your attention drifted from him to the view you two so often enjoyed together. It’d been difficult to convince you to join him here – on the roof of Diasomnia’s tallest tower, where one could make out mile after mile of dark, inviting forest in every direction and the dark colors of your dorm uniform blended into those of the night sky – but it’d been even more difficult to convince Vil to let you slip out after curfew. While Malleus knew he had no right to question the nature of your soul, he did often wonder why you had to be placed into Pomefiore, of all possible dorms. Schoenheit was one of the stricter house wardens, outmatched only by Rosehearts. It was difficult to steal a student of his dorm away at the best of times, and Malleus rarely wanted to see you at the best of times. If you’d belonged to Savannahclaw or, should he be so lucky, Diasomnia, there would be no need to rely on Schoenheit’s sparse charity after he’d already gone to the lengths necessary to seek you out.

But you were precious to Malleus, and there were few things he wouldn’t do to ensure your happiness. He cared about you – irrationally so. “My lab partner,” you admitted, eventually. Malleus felt something deep within his chest lose its shape, and yet his smile could only seem to widen. “I don’t know him that well, so it’s not like I have any right to feel… betrayed, I guess, but—”

“You have every right to feel exactly how you feel,” he interjected. “What did he say?”

Malleus already knew. He wanted to hear from your lips, though.

“It’s a little hard to remember.” And yet, you didn’t hesitate to go on. “I think… I think he might’ve said it was too dangerous to be around me. That I was a hazard to have in class, or something.”

That was only half-true, although he doubted you were lying deliberately. Just ‘a hazard to be around’ would’ve been more accurate, on its own. “Is that all?” He moved closer, draping an arm over your shoulders. Automatically, you melted into his side – your body slotting perfectly against his. “You have to know how untrue that is. You’re an excellent mage, and a pleasure to—”

“He’s not the only one, though.” It was the first time he heard your voice so pitiful, so distorted. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing. It would’ve been better for both of you, if you allowed yourself to be more reliant on him. “My roommate – that’s someone you have to share a room with when your dorm doesn’t unanimously decide to worship the ground you walk on, I know you’re probably not familiar with the concept – requested to move last week, and—” Your voice caught in your throat, your gazing turning downward. Malleus felt his fangs sharpen behind his lips, but repressed the urge to act on his less wholesome instincts. “There’s this boy in my third hour – from Ignihyde, I think. I swear, I’ve never even talked to him, but last time we had class together, he just came up to me, and—” You paused, shrunk into yourself. You attempted to pull away from Malleus, but he only drew you in tighter, and your resolve gave away far faster than his patience. “He called me a freak.”

Ah.

Malleus had wondered what’d come of his brief conversation with your classmate. It was a tamer offense than what he’d expected, although you were having a much stronger reaction than he would’ve hoped.

You weren’t wrong, for what it was worth. You hadn’t spoken to that particular classmate, but you could have. He’d planned to confess to you during your shared period, although he hadn’t thought to phrase it quite so romantically. Sebek had overheard him building up his courage, and it’d only taken a few words from Malleus to dissuade him from doing anything so foolish. Not that it was foolish to want to be around you – if that was true, he would be the biggest fool of them all. It was only foolish to think that someone so insignificant, someone so unimportant had any more right to be around you than Malleus did.

He couldn’t help but notice, as time went on, that all of the people you may’ve once considered friends were rather weak-willed. It was a tragedy, really. Malleus was aware that he had a reputation among the mortal portion of NRC’s student body, but that was no excuse to act the way your ‘friends’ always seemed to – sniveling and shaking, brought to tears by even the implication of a threat. He worried, at first, that they’d go running to you, spout off something awful and exaggerated that painted his protective habits in an unflattering light, but as far as he could tell, it was unfounded fear – an easily dealt with one, at that. Should anyone ever try to put anything but distance between you and themselves, he’d—

Well, he couldn’t hurt them. You wouldn’t care for him as much as you did, if he tried to.

That was, if you ever found out.

Again, his mind drifted back to Schoenheit; all narrowed eyes and pursed lips and disapproving scowls every time Malleus mentioned your name. It didn’t make him angry – he’d never been quick to anger, and it would only be childish to change that now – but he didn’t care for the way he felt when he was apart from you, when he couldn’t find an excuse to do away with the flimsy barriers that separated you from him. He didn’t enjoy the tightness in his chest, the dryness in the back of his throat, the way every little inconvenience left him on the brink of violence. No, he didn’t care for the way he behaved when you weren’t with him.

Yet again, his mind turned to Vil.

Perhaps he was more prone to anger than believed himself to be.

“Mortals,” He was talking before he realized he’d wanted to. His gaze flickered from you, still despondent and curled against his side, to the landscape, all-but pitch black under the thick veil of night. “are fickle creatures. They tend not to trust what they don’t control. Humans, especially.”

Another jab to his side, albeit not as forceful as the first. “Keep in mind that you’re talking to a human right now, Mal.”

“How could I forget?” This time, it was Malleus who detached from you, pushing himself to his feet and offering you a hand to help you do the same. With a huff, you followed him, mimicking exasperation as you let him guide you. “I only meant to say that you might not be entirely understood by such short-lived creatures. I mean, you’ve seen how they act around me.” He squeezed your hand, and bashfully, you looked away. “You agree, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

It took a moment, but with a small sigh and slight smile, you nodded. “…yeah, I guess. It’s not like teenagers are supposed to be nice or anything.”

“You agree, then. They’ve been treating you cruelly.”

Your smile wavered. Malleus considered that it may have been your fragility that’d endeared you to him. Or your inability to hide it, at least. “Well, I wouldn’t call them cruel, but…”

“But?”

“They can be mean, sometimes, I guess. The people in my dorm, especially.” You forced an airy laugh, turning away from him entirely. “I… I think Vil might’ve told them to keep an eye on me. They’ve been acting like I’m under house arrest, lately.”

“You must know how unfair that is.” Almost as unfair as Schoenheit’s attempts to keep you away from him. “And I’m sure you must know that you’d be much happier in a dorm with more open-minded students.”

Immediately, your expression dropped. You tried to pull your hands out of his, but he only tightened his grip. It pained him to exert any amount of control over you, but some pains were necessary. Those that kept you within the scope of his protection, especially. “I… I don’t really like where this is going, Malleus.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to explain myself.” He didn’t realize his hold had tightened into something bruising until your lips quirked downward, eyes narrowing as you struggled to choke down a fractured whimper. Reluctantly, he released you, but his hands soon found their way to your shoulders. You couldn’t run, not on a rooftop, not very far, but there was no reason to give you the chance to. “I only think that you should consider how happy you could be if you—”

“Malleus,” you interjected. “I really don’t—”

“If you belonged to Diasomnia,” he finished, despite your protests. Impressively, you managed to bite your tongue long enough for him to explain himself properly. “Our students are much less territorial, and the majority are still human. If you’re afraid you’ll be an outcast, don’t be. You’ll still be among your own kind, just a less hostile breed.” When you failed to move, he gave himself the luxury of a less restricting form of affection – bring one hand up to cup your cheek. “I’m only trying to suggest that you seek out a more suitable place for yourself. It’s not as if staying where you are will make you any happier.”

“…I like Pomefiore, though. And it’s not like everyone’s avoiding me.” A lie, albeit one plausible enough to send a bolt of white, searing fear from the deepest hollow of Malleus’ chest to the back of his throat. He flinched, but caught himself before his pointed nails could harm your delicate skin. If you had any friends left (aside from himself, of course), he would tear them apart. He would carve their hearts from their bodies. He would—

He would change that.

There was no need to be so gruesome about it. Not yet, at least.

“You care for it more than you care for me?” He made sure to keep his tone light, teasing, only letting it dip into something more serious when you bit the inside of your cheek and looked away. “Please, don’t tell me that you still think they’re worth your time.”

“They’re not all bad.” You still weren’t looking at him. Malleus might’ve been more annoyed if he thought you had anything beyond him to pay attention to. “Vil’s a really good house warden, and—and, we have these skincare nights once a week, which might not sound very fun to you, but—Well, I haven’t been invited recently, but—”

To your credit, you didn’t need him to say anything. All it took was a sympathetic look, his palm slotted tenderly against your cheek, and you cracked before he had the chance to say a word.

“…but, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” You shook your head, shrugged, as if it wasn’t a matter of true concern. As if you wouldn’t give anything to be as near to him as possible. “It’s not like I can just decide to change the nature of my soul. That’s between the dark mirror and…” Another chirping laugh, like windchimes and birdsong and silver bells. Malleus could only hope he’d hear it again sometime soon, in a more celebratory context. “…itself, I think.”

“Normally,” he admitted, running his thumb over your cheek. “Save for when you have another extremely competent house warden to petition the headmaster on your behalf.”

Even in the dim light, he could make out your cheeks flush. Good. He wanted to have an effect on you – any effect at all. “Malleus, I—I really can’t ask you to do that. You’re already so busy, and I really don’t mind—”

“(Y/n).” Immediately, you went quiet. He rarely used your name, and you knew to pay attention, when he did. “If you can tell me, honestly, that you do not believe you’d be happier in Diasomnia than you currently are, I’ll drop the matter entirely.”

You pursed your lips, your eyes meeting his own for the first time since he’d broached the topic. “…and if I couldn’t say that?”

Biting back his grin would’ve been impossible. He could only hope you mistook his delight for relief. “Then consider it done.”

You really were a delicate creature. A few seconds of quiet anticipation, a gentle squeeze to your arm, and he all-but watched you fold into yourself, crumpling under the weight of your own isolation. A small, unsteady smile spread over your lips as you pulled away from him altogether, only to throw yourself into his chest; your arms winding around his neck as you pulled him into a lung flattening hug. After a startled beat, he returned the gesture, pulling you that much closer as you buried your face in the leather of his coat. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you stuttered, speaking quickly enough for each word to slur into the next. “I—I just haven’t had anyone to talk to, but you’ve been so patient, and so nice to me, and I… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You pulled back, looking up at him. Your smile was brighter than he’d ever seen it, and Malleus took a moment to savor that he’d been the one to draw it out of you. “You’re the best, Malleus.”

“Think nothing of it.” He was tempted to pull you back, to hold you for just a few seconds longer, but you were already tearing yourself away from him, clapping your hands together as you rambled excitedly about how much fun it would be to stay in the same dorm, how much more time you could get to spend with him and Lilia, how excited you were to get to know Silver and Sebek and all the other underclassmen who liked to, in your own words, ‘bite at his ankles’. It was only when you took an over-eager step towards the rooftop’s ledge that he took you by the arm, pulling you back with an airy chuckle. “It’s gotten late,” he explained, snapping his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the two of you were standing in his dorm room, the rooftop and the night sky’s expanse left behind entirely. “Why don’t you spend the night in one of our spare rooms? I’ll make more appropriate arrangements in the morning.”

You agreed without a second thought, and as he walked you through the shadowed halls of your soon-to-be home, he decided that he’d been wrong, initially. The worst thing about you wasn’t that you’d chosen to be with him. Really, your closeness wasn’t a bad thing at all.

The worst thing about you, undeniably, was that you could still choose to be close to people who weren’t Malleus.

Thankfully, he was already taking measures to fix that.

[myjjongie]

✶ PLAYING GIRLFRIEND ── l. heeseung

IN WHICH: your best friend heeseung, who also so happens to be a player. needs a girlfriend to ward off all the girls on valentine’s day. who better to help him? you of course!

PAIRING: bsf player!heeseung x bsf fem!reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, skinship, fake dating, best friends, pining, fluff, slight friends to lovers, slow burn (???) WORD COUNT: 1.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: another day another 10 am post cause i can't handle a decent sleep schedule... late vday one shot i never intended to make LOL. like the way i saw a love and deepspace fanart for caleb with this scenario and got inspired. my brain refuses to think on its own, but god forbid i see something good... my brain goes "yeah write that." man... but alas here's another heeseung one shot for the masterlist :3

it was valentine’s day. a holiday you didn’t dislike nor particularly cared for. it was just another day in february to you.

but for you, one person usually made the day eventful. the person in question? your best friend heeseung, well precisely your childhood best friend. he had always been known throughout your school years as a notorious player. which meant heeseung’s locker always happened to be filled to the brim with chocolates every valentine’s day.

by the end of the holiday there was no need to sulk over receiving nothing. after all, you’d always end up eating heeseung’s fair share of chocolates. even if he was a player of sorts. he showed true appreciation for what the girls gave him. due to that, a pile of chocolates would form on his desk at home every year.

even after becoming college students, the chocolate giving didn’t end. around this time last year, heeseung received almost 40 chocolates. along with 20 confessions... once heeseung and you arrived back at his place that year. the annoyance was evident on his face. it started to be too much for him. he realized denying every girl that confessed to him was more work than thanking them for a menial gift.

so here you both were, less than twenty four hours before valentine’s day. standing in front of heeseung’s bathroom mirror. matching shirts. matching rings. and quite possibly the stupidest plan conceived by him yet.

glancing up from your phone, you met heeseung’s gaze in the mirror. “hee there’s no way this is gonna work… i’m your best friend. almost everyone. no everyone on campus knows that.”

heeseung hummed out a response as he continued to style his hair nicely. a faint smirk on his lips as he enjoyed the moment. what you didn’t know was that heeseung developed the biggest crush on you after high school. heeseung was aware of the fact he would never be able to tell you his feelings. after all in your eyes he was your playboy best friend. nothing more than that.

but by some miracle he convinced you to be his girlfriend for valentine’s. even if the title was fake in it’s name. he still felt like it was a win win situation to him.

“come on, don’t say that yn. it’s believable! the player guy best friend, finally falls for his girl best friend. what’s there not to believe?” heeseung couldn’t help but let out a scoff while finishing up his hair.

“yeah okay. very believable…” your arms crossed at his horrible explanation. no one in their right mind would believe that the, lee heeseung had fallen for his best friend.

heeseung turned around from the mirror to face you. “alright come here.” his hand stretched out beckoning for you to come over.

you briefly rolled your eyes. still feeling the plan was idiotic. taking his hand, heeseung lightly tugged you forward in front of him. your frame now flushed against his wider body.

your body stiffened slightly. becoming hyper aware of how close heeseung was. he was your best friend. that’s how you viewed him your whole life. but that fact alone couldn’t change that, as frustrating it is to admit. heeseung is genuinely attractive.

“so the only way for this whole ordeal is to be as natural as possible. which is for me to wrap my arms around you.” once heeseung explained what needed to be done. his arm snaked around your waist. holding you firmly against himself.

your face softly heated up as the space between you both lessened. realizing now would be the time for the photo. you brought your phone up from your side. shaky fingers opening up the camera app. making sure to get a good angle before snapping a photo, heeseung stopped you.

“wait yn. you’re barely putting effort into this.” heeseung’s lips turned into a slight pout. you couldn’t help but eye him in the mirror. turning away the moment his eyes met with yours. his hold on your waist tightened at your reaction.

“well what else am i supposed to do? isn’t this fine?”

“not really. your arms look really awkward. here let me help. maybe if i do this it’ll look better.”

before you could protest, heeseung wrapped his arm across your chest. the pose with out a doubt looked possessive. as if he was silently declaring that you were his. no one else’s. your heart slightly fluttered at the feeling. yet you hated that it did. you knew heeseung wasn’t being serious in his actions. he just needed a cop out from all the girls that bothered him now.

heeseung continued on to explain taking the task seriously. “now like this you can put your hand on my forearm. i think my arm that’s across your chest would do.”

using your free hand, you placed it where heeseung instructed you too. taking another glance at the mirror. you both did look like a couple. the matching shirts to the matching rings, he managed to obtain. really sold the deal.

“oh yeah. we definitely look like a couple. told you we’d be pull it off.” a sly smirk was spread across his face. his smirk lingered. noticing the way you slightly jumped when his fingers grazed against your waist. he didn’t expect you to be so antsy in his grasp. not that he was complaining though.

heeseung then rested his chin on top of your head. putting on a cheeky smile, ready for the photo. “ok this is a good pose.”

“geez. i can’t believe this might actually work.” you hated to agree with him. but you and heeseung fit the picture of a couple. if this tricked everyone tomorrow you were bound to eat your own words. finally you snapped a couple photos. in between those few minutes heeseung suggested different poses as well.

there were ones where his back would face the mirror as he hugged your body. your frame being engulfed by his wide shoulders. another one he created with you, had him pose with his face in your neck. the illusion of it made it seem as if he was kissing your neck. once finished heeseung scrolled through all the photos. his face having satisfaction all over it.

“yeah. these are really good. we did a good job. if no girls bother me tomorrow, i have you to thank for the rest of my life yn.” heeseung lowered the phone, flashing you a bright smile.

“yeah yeah. i’m just surprised you put so much effort into this. even so far as to getting rings…”

“hey what can i say. i’m a stickler for perfection. also wear the ring tomorrow. just incase.”

“sure will do. well im going home now! hope your stupid post goes well!”

finally getting back home after heeseung’s did you really take a good look at the photos. you couldn’t help but continuously stare at the first photo you took. it was odd on how good you both fit with one another. even more odd how you somewhat missed his touch. missed the way his arm wrapped around your waist as if he was really your boyfriend.

realizing what you were thinking, you quickly dismissed it. heeseung is your best friend. nothing more nothing less. not to mention he’s a player. even if said player is genuinely nice to woman... but that didn’t matter. you had a set boundary and truly needed to stick to it.

soon valentine’s day came and went. during the day you checked heeseung’s post. the photos he chose were good, too good... not to mention the caption that was paired with the post. it read “spending the day with her”, accompanied with too many heart emojis to seem natural. were people really gonna buy this? finally finding heeseung on campus, you immediately noticed his empty arms.

“no way…” you stood infront of him utterly shocked. not believing what your eyes were seeing.

“told you they would believe it.” his arms opened out, showing off the movability of his empty arms. “this totally means you gotta act like my girlfriend for a bit.” heeseung teased as he rested his arm around your waist.

the post worked… for the first time in what felt like forever, heeseung was spending valentine’s alone. did this mean you’d have to keep up the act? are you really gonna have to play girlfriend for longer than one day? there was no way you agreed to something far more complicated right?

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