#biggest cockblock in the universe

[kalevalakryze]

i am a simple woman; I look at my docs, I unfocus my eyes, and i let my fingers go fuckin wild;

[wonryllis]

somewhere in northern italy | 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇.

synopsis. park sunghoon hates oranges, he always has. the tangy citrusy tingles he's so not fond of it. he also hates you, the living embodiment of an orange: cheery, full of life, and well, round. why should he be bothered by it though? all he has to do is work hard to get into his dream university. but the thing is, he really needs a specific recommendation letter for it. something which he can only get from your father. and hypothetically speaking, he can't just ask for it, so he does you 'a favor for a favor'; he fake dates you on your trip home for summer break and surprise surprise your family owns the biggest orange farm in the country.

or where, sunghoon falls for the one thing he has hated all his life.

word count. 1.6k (teaser) full fic: est 10k-15k? maybe more?

meet the cast. park sunghoon who has an obsession of taking photos with fem!reader who loves being photographed.

genre. fake dating AUUUU!!!! ANDDD enemies to lovers!!!(for hoon), frenemies to lovers(for you), fluff, crackkkk, nsfw, suggestive, sunghoon getting cockblocked all the damn time, set in lombardy, northern italy. popular x unpopular but it's mildly mentioned. sunghoon thinks you are a spoiled brat, a very very studious and upright sunghoon. oh and did you know? orange, orange and orange (sunghoons nightmare) rich girlie and old money reader, sunghoon is gobsmacked at reader's house, parents..(do i really need to add?) and the orange farm.

warnings. allusions as to reader being daddy's princess and being sheltered and hoon struggling every day with oranges and painting a good image of himself to get that letter. nsfw warnings will be added in the full fic. (also no it's not a chubby reader)

RELEASE DATE. TBD

written so far. 15%

author's note﹙ ⌕. ﹚ had this random ass idea while having orange juice yesterday ksjksj. taglist is open for this as well as the permanent one, just let me know and i'll add you asap! not sure if this' good enough kindly bear with me. PLS DONT LET THIS FLOP I REALLY LOVE THIS BABY ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

꒰⠀ N O W P L A Y I N G. ⠀꒱ cruel summer by taylor swift, one kiss by calvin harris & dua lipa, karma by taylor swift, me by taylor swift, call it what you want by taylor swift, blinding lights by the weekend, fireworks by katy perry

"you wanna go down to the lake?" sunghoon looks up to find you at the door, more like peeping in from outside. his hands stopping mid-air with his spongebob boxers in hand, in the middle of unpacking what was left of his luggage. he moves at the speed of light, shoving them back in before you can notice the print. but too late you already saw it well, "you wear spongebob?" your laugh tickles his insides and it feels weird how he seems to like it.

no, he did not want to go out right now. after that stressful breakfast in the garden he just wants to fall face first into your fluffy mattress and sleep it out under your silk comforter. but something about your laugh makes him intrigued, would going down to the lake with you show him more of this side of yours? now this would probably be the seventh time he has wondered of how prettily you laugh. the curve of your eyes and the faint dimples on your cheeks his favourite things. oh? he picked favourites already it's weird, he thinks.

"yeah, let's go. just lemme change my shirt real quick," disappearing into the bathroom before you have the chance to speak. though when he steps back into the room,"your taste is funny," his spongebob boxers hang at the tip of your index finger as you look closely at the design. "put that back!" he scolds, choking on his spit while he rushing over.

"why? don't tell me you haven't washed it? now that's really bad hoonie," the tone of your voice teases his nerves but honestly he's used to it, more precisely he doesn't hate it as much as he thought he did.

"y/n," he warns, albeit not seriously and you can see it.

"baby," in a sweet little smile, (one that has sunghoon's hate for you faltering in the slightest each time you put it on) you correct him,"remember?" my fake boyfriend, mouthing out through a sly grin.

it's like an immediate que for him to give it up, he's not gonna win against you. when he used to see you around the university, mingling amidst a crowd of people every single time, he always thought you'd hold nothing against him. in his eyes you were a hollow image, nothing worth it. perhaps he was wrong, for so far you have him tight in a grip, he can't seem to find something to properly hate. that is if he takes the oranges out the picture.

he sighs in resignation,"come on, let's go, baby." happy? his brows rising in a question, softening up at your smile getting wider with a swift nod.

he relaxed too soon.

"was this really necessary?" the palm of his hand slides around your wrist as you walk down the steps of your italian chateau. supporting your heel clad feet and gesturing at the big beige floppy beach hat sitting atop your head. "absolutely! it's my fa- dad!" sunghoon's head snaps at that, immediately turning to look at the pitch of your voice going higher. the real deal, your father still seated in the garden with a newspaper in his hands and dear lord, a glass of orange juice.

it's embarrassing to be seen with you like that, he was gonna say. but oh well, nevermind.

"i see you have your favorite hat on, going somewhere with sunghoon?" your dad asks smiling warmly at your pair. it makes sunghoon scared, aren't dads supposed to hate boyfriends? is he being bamboozled by your family? will he be preyed upon later when you are not there to see? as if it was possible, your entire family though really welcoming of him are a bunch of weirdos, who the fuck let's their precious daughter share her room with her boyfriend they've met for the first time?

when he agreed to fake date you he didn't know he'd have to put on such a detailed act. there's literally no restrictions for you in the house. you do whatever you want, when ever you want. and that includes taking him everywhere you go, because apparently your parents know him as the boyfriend who loves you so much that he can't let you be alone at any time. shouldn't that be a red flag though? he can't with this anymore, just over a day in and he's convinced he can't make it make sense anymore, it's a white towel, he can only go with the flow.

"yes he really wanted to go down to the lake," what me? when? sunghoon's eyes wander in a panic while you smile as if you weren't just lying through your teeth. smile sunghoon smile, just fucking smile, he reminds himself wondering if he should maybe say something, maybe not?,"didn't you, baby?" the little nudge of your elbow against him tells him that he should, oh god its difficult to learn when to do what.

"yeah the weather seems really good," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, internally facepalming himself. he has one job, and he's failing even that.

"hm, true," the acknowledgement from your father helps calm his nerves a bit but it runs on high again at his next words,"be back before lunch though, your brother and sister in law will be home soon. it's been so long since we last ate together," you have a brother? why wasn't he informed about this? is the universe playing a game with him? as if your parents weren't enough, now he has to impress more people. he can do this, for the sake of his recommendation letter he has to do it.

"yes dad! love you," sunghoon waits like a lone statue as you leave his side to press a kiss to your father's cheek. grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away the moment he opens his mouth to bid your father. at this rate you'll ruin it for him before he can ruin it himself. "slowdown, fluffy. i'll fall at this speed," he tries but it's to no avail, he should have known by now, no one can control you.

the walk down to the lake is quieter than he expected, no bickering or fighting. you show him around the small streets and shops on the way, telling him little stories back from your childhood. sometimes stopping at a spot,"so pretty, can you take a picture of me here?" and it's already the fourth time. he doesn't mind though, on the contrary he finds himself enjoying it. it's not everyday he gets to roam around the streets of italy with the perfect weather.

it doesn't take long for you both to reach the deck on the far left. following your lead, he sits down on the edge beside you, legs hanging low over the cold water and your shoes placed on one side. you sit close, arms brushing each other, little finger atop one another. your hair flowing with the wind swipes against his face when you turn the other way, a subtle hint of sweet (you guessed it) orange tingling his smell buds. instead of grimacing his life off, he leans closer for another whiff of it. "sunghoon!" retracting immediately when you turn back to him.

"hm?" a feeling so out of this world, a haze lost in his mind. your words sound blurry and your extravagant hat looks so pretty on you. he almost feels like he has to capture this. "i asked how you like it? weren't you listening? what're you thinking?" and he does, taking out his phone and clicking a candid. he can't believe he now has a photo of you in his gallery that he's taken on his own accord. he's been doing many weird things lately,"it's really pretty," so so many weird things.

"hey fluffy i've been wondering about something," he speaks again, looking away to try to ignore tiny little fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

"what is it?"

"haven't you ever dated before, why do your parents seem so excited to see you have a boyfriend?" there he asked it, the biggest mystery he can't stop thinking about from the moment he set foot in your palace of a house. if it's your first then maybe that would somewhat explain their behaviour, not that it would become normal altogether, just kind of justifiable that he won't be put on the rack. that he's truly welcomed and he's safe.

"not really, no one ever met my standards," your answer throws him off. what?

"does that mean i do?" he tests the water, cautious above all yet his tone still comes off as one of tease.

"yes, except one," he eyes turn to you at that, pupils dilated with curiosity for the one thing stopping him from the title of 'perfect for you' as your parents claimed. meeting his eyes in a lock of contact, you give him a small smile. hands moving over to his white button up, fingers tracing his collar and undone buttons watching his adam's apple bob in a hard gulp as his brown orbs follow your movements, sweat building up at the close proximity when you both lock eyes again,"you don't really like me," sunghoon immediately looks away, a stab of reality, he was actually anticipating something he could change. really park sunghoon? remember you don't like her?

"am i wrong?" you laugh leaning forward to have a look at his face.

"i never said that," sunghoon clears his throat, turning back, suddenly gaining a surge of confidence. park sunghoon what???

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu @luvyev @deobitifull @nottkwiwin @enhyven @crysieberry @eneiyri @sovlidago @fertiliezedtoesw @laylasmother @pockyyasii @ladyartemesia @kaispulshies @nctislifue @capri-cuntz @sweetjaemss @parksunghoonsgf @ariadores @asteria-wood @laurradoesloveu @en-dream @304files

[wonusite]

The Only Exception

❝ Your university’s star football player doesn’t understand why you don’t want anything to do with him. Several humiliating rejections later, Mingyu is more determined than ever to change your mind about him. Chaos and confusing feelings ensue. ❞

pairing: kim mingyu x female reader

genre: college au, jock au, fluff, smut

word count: 6.4k

warnings: jock!gyu, art major!reader, rich girl!reader, protective bestie!cheol (lowkey he’s kind of a cockblock but we luv him anyway), big dick!gyu, mingyu is an absolute SIMP, reader likes to play hot and cold, pining, nude portraits, drinking, praising, begging, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!gyu, cock drunk!reader

a/n: the biggest thanks to hoe nonny for coming up with this brilliant idea. minors dni!!!

There’s not a lot that can hurt Mingyu’s pride.

As a tall, handsome guy (who also happens to be an extremely likable star athlete), he doesn’t have much to be insecure about. But now, as he’s staring at perhaps the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, he feels like he’s been knocked down several pegs.

It all started when he heard your name in the locker room. If Mingyu thought about it clearly, that’s exactly when he became invested in you without knowing what you even looked like. It’s not like he could be entirely blamed since you had rejected the entire offensive line plus the running back and wide receiver—a.k.a two of his closest friends.

Maybe he should’ve just minded his own business when he heard Seokmin’s loud laughter, but he didn’t. He had to see what was funny enough for that infectious laughter to overpower most of the noise in the locker room.

Apparently, both Chan and Soonyoung had been rejected by some art major who didn’t care that they were easy on the eyes and beasts on the field. Normally, Mingyu wouldn’t care so much about some unknown girl, but his interest was piqued when he found out you had some sort of aversion not only to football players, but to all jocks. No one could figure out why you had such a disinterest in guys who played sports, and that mystery had been the topic of the team’s locker room talk for weeks.

To say it was odd for Mingyu to become fixated with someone he hadn’t even seen was an understatement, but again, it was impossible not to when so many of his friends kept talking about you like you were an untouchable being. Which he would come to find out was next to true.

Mingyu isn’t sure why he feels the need to prove that he can pull you. Maybe he likes the vindication of being perceived as this heartthrob with infinite charm, or maybe he liked the picture of you that Chan had showed him a little too much. Either way, he feels very confident about his ability to woo you.

This confidence doesn’t falter even when Seokmin points you out at the crowded party his frat is hosting. Mingyu has to take a second to compose himself because your photos do not do you justice. You’re decked out in a designer crop top and a tiny little skirt that barely covers your ass, and man, he’s never wanted to be sandwiched between two thighs more than he does now.

“Maybe you should save yourself the embarrassment and give your attention to a girl who actually wants it.” Seokmin says as they watch you take a shot with the captain of the cheer team.

Mingyu only scoffs at his friend and tells him to watch how it’s done before he walks to where you are.

“Hey.” His voice comes out smooth and suave, as usual. “I’m Mingyu.”

A foreign feeling consumes him when you turn around and set your pretty eyes on him. The usual heat and interest he gets from girls isn’t there, and it throws him off a bit. You only nod at him and offer a halfhearted nice to meet you before turning your back to him. To say Mingyu is absolutely flustered and at a loss for words is an understatement. Even the girl by your side can’t seem to believe that you don’t care for Mingyu’s attention.

“Um,” she nervously plays with her necklace when she notices Mingyu has no intention of leaving. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You roll your eyes and turn to the beefy jock with a sigh. It’s not like he isn’t one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen, but you know his type. After spending all of high school dating jocks, you were pretty much over them. This fine specimen of a man wasn’t going to change your mind about it, either.

Mingyu sees a pretty frown lining your lips and all he wants to do is kiss it off. He licks his lips and clears his throat before trying again. “I’m the quarterback of—”

“Our school’s football team. I know.” You finish for him. “I’ve seen you play. You’re really good.”

It’s a compliment, he knows it is, but the dismissal in your voice makes it seem like you couldn’t be any more unimpressed.

“Do you want to take a shot with me?” He asks after a beat of awkward silence.

You tilt your head in contemplation. With a smile that all but screams rejection, you gently shake your head. “I’m good—”

Before you could finish, a deep voice cuts you off.

“No, she doesn’t.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows when he sees one of the point guards of the basketball team come out of no where to step between you two with a mean glare on his face. Choi Seungcheol is looking at him like he’s two seconds away from throttling him. A million and one questions are running through his mind because from what he’d heard, you did not get with jocks, but clearly, there was something more between you and the guy who’s looking like he’s about to commit a crime.

“My bad, bro. She didn’t mention she had a boyfriend.”

“She doesn’t, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a creep.”

At this point Mingyu feels like he’s in some sort of alternate universe where he’s become the ugly duckling because what the fuck? He can’t even say anything as Seungcheol tugs you away, but not before giving him one last vaporizing glare.

“Bye, Mingyu!” You call over your shoulder with a wave.

He doesn’t know if your friendly farewell makes him feel better or worse.

Mingyu spends the rest of his night—the rest of his week, really—thinking about you. No wonder his teammates couldn’t stop talking about you after you rejected them. The way you made your casual disinterest seem like a biting rejection was jarring, and he’d never experienced anything like it before.

Honestly, it’s probably why he can’t seem to get rid of this need to win you over. He’s probably lost his damn mind, but it feels kind of nice that you didn’t immediately throw yourself at his feet. And so, Mingyu decides that he’ll be the exception for the no jock thing you have going on.

Because he feels so confident of his ability to change your mind, he underestimates how hard getting close to you will actually be.

Every time he sees you, that stupid point guard is by your side. Mingyu can’t come within two feet of you because Seungcheol is always there to drag you away or straight up tell him to go away. It’s so frustrating to him because all he wants is a chance to talk to you, and the more he’s prevented from doing so, the more he feels this unrelenting need to.

And he does finally get that chance, but it doesn’t exactly go the way he plans.

Mingyu usually hates going to grab coffee for his frat members because they’re all so picky for no reason. Soonyoung is the worst of them all, always whining when he unintentionally gets the orders wrong. Now, he’s made sure to ask the group chat to send in their exact orders just as he’s stepping in line.

It’s nothing short of amazing that Mingyu manages to balance nine coffees in his hands. It would’ve been even more amazing if he had actually managed to make it out of the door with them.

As soon as he starts to walk away, he missteps and is flung forward with enough force to spill the drinks on some unsuspecting person. Unfortunately for him, it’s not just any person, it’s the person, and he’s really at a loss.

“Oh my god.”

The stressed words don’t even come from you, rather from your horrified friend, Boo Seungkwan. And Mingyu can’t really blame him because you’re literally wearing a white bodysuit.

“Sorry—Sorry!” Mingyu splutters, feeling like his face is on fire.

What he hates is that you don’t actually react like any other person would. You only give him a look that’s a mixture of pity and amusement.

“It’s Céline!” His appalled voice squeaks. “Céline!”

Because his heart is beating so harshly in his ears, Mingyu misunderstands Seungkwan’s words. “I-I can explain to your friend what happened—I’ll even pay for the dry cleaning!”

Then something unexpected happens.

You laugh.

It’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he almost feels like his humiliation is worth it. Almost.

“What? What are you going on about? I’m talking about Céline—the brand. AKA the clothes she’s wearing right now. They’re worth like—”

“It’s fine.” You say as Seungkwan hands you a fistful of napkins. “It was an accident. Let’s just go.”

Mingyu looks at you in wonder while your friend only looks at you incredulously. It’s not like you were the materialistic type (despite being a trust fund baby), but you were acting too calm for Seungkwan’s taste. He eyes you suspiciously before scoffing. The look you have in your eyes is annoyingly familiar.

“Fine.” He says before he lowers his voice as he leans into your ear. “I know he’s cute, but come on! Look at your outfit!”

The flustered boy isn’t at quiet as he thinks, and Mingyu would’ve felt flattered, but again, you gave no reaction. Not one he wanted, anyway. You only rolled your eyes and frowned at your friend. “Shut up!” You hissed. “He’s not my type. I just feel bad for him.”

And you do, but you feel more sorry for yourself because you know you won’t have enough time to go back home and change before your next class. You finish blotting the the wet stain on your chest before you dig inside your purse. Mingyu notices the flashy bag is also from a designer brand, and for a moment he fears that you’re going to make him pay for your clothes. He wonders if you’ll take pity on him because he obviously can’t afford to pay for it.

Or maybe you’d agree to a payment plan.

When you hand him several large bills and tell him to buy more coffees before walking away, he thinks he’d rather pay for your clothes. At least that way he wouldn’t have to feel the biting feeling of your disregard.

After the embarrassing encounter, Mingyu is quick to find out everything there is to know about you (well as much as your reserved self has been willing to put out, anyway). After stalking all your social media accounts and asking around, he finds out you’re a rich girl from the other side of the country that is fairly new around the area. Also, it’s quite clear to everyone that you have a self-appointed body guard by the name of Choi Seungcheol—who apparently has known you since high school.

Aside from the fact that you’re an art major, Mingyu doesn’t know what kind of things you’re into. This wouldn’t normally faze him so much, but with you he obviously has to count on something other than his looks and status in order to get to know you in the way he wants.

By the grace of some higher power, Mingyu finally gets his chance when he drops his marketing class to transfer into a web design course.

The first thing he notices when he walks into the lecture hall is a pretty designer bag with it’s even prettier owner digging through it. Mingyu doesn’t notice the large smile that breaks out into his face, but the people around him certainly do.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You look up just as your hand wraps around your favorite lip gloss. It’s very ironic how your heart stutters at the sight of the six foot something jock standing over you despite being so adamant in denying your growing attraction to him. To be fair, Kim Mingyu is so insanely attractive that it’s only a natural human response to feel a little heat at the sight of him. You’re quick to school your expression as you offer him a greeting in return.

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter even as you ignore him to apply the sparkly lip gloss that makes your lips look much more irresistible than they already do. “Is this seat taken?”

You don’t look away from the small mirror in your hand. As much as you’d like to lie to him, you know it won’t get him to leave you alone. “No.”

It’s not a big win, but a win nonetheless. Mingyu is quick to slide into the chair beside yours, already exuding major golden retriever energy. You have to hide your smile because this large guy is too cute for his own good. You doubt he even knows it.

“Listen… I’m really sorry I spilled coffee on you the other day. Let me make it up to you—”

“It’s just clothes.” You tell him sincerely. “And you already said sorry, so we’re cool.”

Of course it’s not the response he’s looking for, but it is a way in. Mingyu grins at you. “So, friends?”

It would’ve been easy to tell him that you have all the friends you need, but something inside you refuses to be the one to wipe that stupidly endearing grin off his face. So you purse your lips and reluctantly nod, fighting a smile when the giant next to you visibly brightens at your response.

You ignore the jerk in your chest and pretend that you don’t feel like you’ve just signed a deal with the devil.

“Seungkwan says you’re this close to fucking Kim Mingyu.”

You look up from your phone to see less than a centimeter of space between Seungcheol’s thumb and index finger. He’s raising one of his prominent brows at you, silently demanding an explanation. The expression on his face would’ve been funny to you if you didn’t feel so called out. Which is insane because there’s literally nothing going on between you and the stupidly endearing jock who has taken to following you around.

“Seungkwan has the perception of a fucking ant.”

Your words sound like moronic nonsense even to you, but it’s your only line of defense right now. If you slipped up even the slightest bit, then your best friend would know that you kind of sort of felt attracted to Mingyu.

“Yeah? Then why is he lurking around here like he’s just waiting for me to leave?” Seungcheol nods toward the tall jock who’s trying very hard to be inconspicuous but is failing miserably.

It’s physically painful for you to be so endeared by Mingyu. Especially when you notice that he has two coffees in his hands. You’re sure Seungcheol notices this too, but luckily for you he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he’s only giving you that inquisitive stare that he gets when he’s about to force an answer out of you.

“I don’t know!” You lie like you’re not aware that Mingyu is waiting for you so you two can walk to class together. “Who cares about that, anyway? You still haven’t given me an answer about helping out in my figure sculpture class.”

This is enough to get Cheol to get off the Mingyu thing and turn bright red. “I’m not posing nude for a bunch of strangers! I don’t even know why you feel so comfortable with potentially drawing… all of me.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I think you forget that I’m the one who cleaned you up at Vernon’s graduation party.”

Seungcheol grimaces but doesn’t try to refute your words. Instead he tells you he’ll be by after your class and leaves quickly. Belatedly, you realize he still didn’t give you a straight answer.

“What’s wrong?”

You don’t realize you’re scowling until you see the frown on Mingyu’s own face. The genuine concern always has your stupid heart acting up like it’s about to jump out of your chest and into the jock’s grasp.

“Nothing. Seungcheol’s just the ultimate meanie.” You say as he silently hands you the coffee that’s meant for you. “But you know all about that.”

Mingyu offers you a laugh because it’s true. There’s a reason he kept a distance whenever he saw your best friend was around. He’s just happy that you don’t actually seem to mind his company despite not wanting him in that way.

Of course that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop trying. Especially after what he finds when you let him look at your sketchbook that you always have on you.

When Mingyu stumbles on not one, but several beautifully drawn portraits, he can’t stop himself from commenting on it. The burning feeling growing in his chest forces him to, much to his chagrin.

“You have a lot of drawings of Seungcheol.” He says as he continues to flip the pages only to find more sketches of the point guard. “Like a lot.”

Mingyu knows he sounds like he’s extremely jealous, which, to be fair, he is.

You spare the large football player a glance as he continuous to flip through the many sketches you have of your best friend. His pout is probably one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, and you can’t understand how someone so fatally attractive can resemble an adorable puppy.

“Yeah.” You answer mindlessly as you get back to your online shopping. “He’s pretty so I draw him a lot.”

Mingyu refuses to acknowledge the bile that rises up his throat when you call Seungcheol pretty. It’s not like you’re wrong, but he wishes you would say something to the same effect about him. He decides to sulk quietly until he stumbles on a particularly racy drawing of that stupid basketball player you call your best friend.

“Did you draw him naked!?”

You look up at the loud screech, feeling a wave of embarrassment come over you when you realize that almost everyone in the room had turned to stare at you. All you can do is shake your head and slap Mingyu’s beefy arm. You’re too irritated to think about how hard and big he is.

“What are you talking about?” You hiss at him.

He silently shows you the drawing of a shirtless Seungcheol you did a few months ago. You hadn’t even drawn the bottom half, but you had purposely sketched his v-line kind of low as if he had been naked. It almost makes you laugh, but instead you only roll your eyes.

“He was wearing pants. And even if he had been naked, it would’ve been purely artistic.”

You sound sincere, but jealousy always clouds reason. “Purely artistic? Are you sure?”

“I don’t fuck my friends.” You say as you snatch the book back from him. “That’s why I’ll never fuck you.”

Mingyu might’ve felt like you were being serious, but he catches the imperceptible waver in your voice. He smirks to himself as he leans back in his seat. You don’t notice the smugness radiating from him because soon your professor is starting the class.

It was only a matter of time before you gave into him, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it happened sooner rather than later.

You feel like the universe is laughing at you.

There’s a good possibility that this is just all a coincidence, but you know Kim Mingyu. He did this on purpose.

“Why haven’t you started?”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at Jeonghan. It’s not his fault the jock that has been the (secret) object of your fantasies is standing twelve feet away from you, posing completely naked.

“I mean, I can’t really blame you. This new model is fucking hot.”

“He’s okay.” You manage to mutter as you finally pick up your pencil to start sketching.

You almost feel like walking out, but you know that if you do, you’ll never hear the end of it from your friend or the stupidly attractive guy you’re about to draw. This would’ve been easier if Mingyu wasn’t so perfectly sculpted. Every ridge and muscle was so prominent and sexy that you had a vague urge to just go up there and lick him.

This included his cock. God, was it pretty. The long, veiny organ between his legs was also thick—the kind of thick that had you wondering if you would be able to fully wrap your hand around it.

You couldn’t even imagine what it would look like if he was hard.

This is perhaps the most distracted you’ve ever been while drawing, and you fucking hate it. As if hiding your blatant desire wasn’t hard enough, Mingyu just has to stare directly at you the entire time he’s posing. You angrily lick your lips, shifting in your seat to try and subtly relieve the throbbing you feel in your cunt. The universe is definitely laughing at you because the satin thong you chose to wear is already completely soiled.

You grit you teeth and start with the outline of his tall figure, trying your hardest not to hide behind your canvas while also trying not to stare too much. It’s a double edged sword that you don’t know how to handle, and you feel like you’re seconds away from getting cut.

Mingyu has never felt his confidence fall so low in his entire life.

Sure, he knows you’re in class and this assignment is for a grade, but how can you have no reaction at all? Your pretty eyes hold no traces of heat or desire whenever you look at him then back to your canvas. The muted expression on your cute face is also killing him because it seems almost unimpressed.

He feels like he’s back at that frat party all over again.

The most pathetic part is that he’s trying his hardest to not get an erection. Even if you don’t seem to be fazed by the sight of his naked body, there’s a large part of him that’s extremely turned on just knowing that you’re drawing every part of him.

“His dick is so pretty.” You hear the girl next to you sigh dreamily.

It makes you want to throttle her because she’s right. Mingyu has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen on a man, and you’re pretty sure that if you’re forced to look at it any longer, you’re going to ruin your jeans.

By the time your class ends, you feel like you’re two seconds away from crying because of how horny you feel. The ache between your legs has never been this bad, and you need to get home so you can take care of yourself with your shiny new toy that came in the mail a few days ago.

Unfortunately, Mingyu—who’s now wearing a fucking robe—decides to put a damper on your would be plans. You have to control your expression because the asshole just looks so good in a robe, and now that you know what’s beneath it, you know you won’t be able to keep up your facade for much longer.

“So what did you think?”

His grin is that same one that you became endeared with long ago, but now it just fuels the burning in your core. Fuck. You need to get away from him immediately.

“Your pose was very good for an amateur. I’m surprised maintained it the entire time.”

Mingyu is both delighted and disappointed by your answer. And before he can say anything else, he sees your eyes light up as you look behind him. “Cheol!”

You skip over to your best friend who’s waiting for you by the door with his signature scowl firm in place. Mingyu can’t hide his frown as you leave without even saying bye.

“It seems to me like you’ve made no progress.”

Mingyu isn’t a violent guy. He prefers to resolve things by talking, but man does he want to rip Seokmin’s tongue out right now. It’s not like he’s actually angry at his friend, but he can’t stand the fact that you’re in his frat house, completely ignoring him. When he invited you, he thought you’d at least come up and say hi, but you seemed more interested in talking to Joshua fucking Hong—a.k.a Mr. I Lost My Virginity To My Hot Cheerleader Girlfriend.

When he sees you laugh at something the nerd says, again, he just snaps and walks into the kitchen where you two are. Once again, Mingyu feels like he’s been dropped into an alternate universe because how the hell does the chemist have more game than him?

“Joshy.” His voice is deceptively cheerful. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

His friend’s boyfriend only rolls his eyes. “I was forced to come. We’re going to leave soon, though.”

Within seconds, Josh is able to pick up on the tension between you and Mingyu. He’s heard all about how the jock is practically in love with you from his lovely girlfriend. Usually, Josh has no interest in the affairs of others, but Mingyu is the one who basically made his relationship happen. And he’ll probably never be able to repay him in full, however, what he was about to do would be a good start.

“But Y/N wants to stay a little longer. You’re cool to take her home, right?”

Mingyu thinks you’ll protest, but to his surprise you’re looking at him expectantly. He mechanically nods, not taking his eyes off you even when Josh announces that he’s leaving.

“Why haven’t you said anything to me all night?” Is the first thing he says when Josh is out of earshot.

His cute pout is doing things to you, and you wish you could blame it on the alcohol coursing through your veins. “You saw me, but you didn’t say hi either. Guess you don’t like me as much as I thought you did.”

Mingyu frowns and backs you into the counter, effectively trapping you by putting both of his arms on either side of your body. He leans close until your faces are inches apart.

“Baby, I don’t think you actually realize how much I like you.”

Your heart pounds at the pet name, and you wonder if he can hear it over the loud music. It’s a miracle that your next words come out strong and with some conviction. “Yeah? Well, when I feel like having a pity fuck, I’ll let you know.”

Mingyu only smirks and leans back. He trails a hand down your arm and gently grips your pinky and ring finger. “Dance with me?”

Just as you’re about to say yes, Seungcheol and Seungkwan enter the kitchen. Unlike you’re expecting, Mingyu doesn’t let go of you. Instead he steps a bit closer to you as your friends approach. You feel hot all over, and you aren’t too sure if it has to do with the hunk beside you, Seungkwan’s Cheshire Cat grin, or Seungcheol’s piercing glare.

“Y/N.” Seungkwan breaks the silence. “We’re leaving soon. Are you coming?”

“No.” You say, leaning back into Mingyu. “I’ll text you guys when I get home, though.”

The tension thickens, but luckily for you, your friends accept your answer. You furrow your eyebrows when you Seungcheol whispers something in Mingyu’s ear before leaving the kitchen with your other friend in toe. You ask Mingyu what was said but he only gives you that pretty smile of his and pulls you away to the living room.

You don’t realize how the time flies until you get a text from Seungkwan asking if you’ve made it home safely. By now, the drinks you had are wearing off, and you’re ready to go home. You type out your response before telling Mingyu that you’re going to get and Uber so he doesn’t have to worry about taking you home since he had a few drinks as well.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” He says as he follows you outside.

“Okay. Just spend the night with me then.”

Mingyu waits for you to say you’re not being serious, but it never comes. His heart pounds as he follows you into the car. It gets worse when you wrap an arm around his own and place your hand over his. All he can feel is your warmth as you snuggle into him, seemingly not fazed by the intimacy of your actions.

It all feels like a dream to him when you guide him up to your luxury apartment. He’s awed with how spacious and lavish it is.

“Gyu.”

His heart stutters at the nickname, and immediately he snaps his attention to you like an obedient puppy. “Yeah?”

“I’m in the mood for a pity fuck.”

You two stare at each other, and for the first time, Mingyu sees a carnal heat in you shining eyes. He swallows thickly, feeling his cock twitch. “You’re drunk—”

“I had a couple of drinks hours ago. Are you going to fuck me or do I have to take care of myself?”

You’re not sure how you got to this point, but you hardly care. Mingyu’s large hands feel too good against your hot skin for you to focus on anything else. He’s taking his time to feel up the length of your legs, and you briefly wonder if this is his way of getting his pay back for all the times you told him you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Gyu...”

God, he’ll never get tired of hearing you call him that.

“What is it, baby?” He coos against your thigh, gently nipping at the skin.

You’re already trembling for him and he has yet to touch you where he's been dying to. Still, he wants to savor this moment for as long as he can.

“Fuck, please just do something. Anything!”

Vaguely, you have this thought that maybe you’re being a little too needy and desperate, but just the thought of having those pretty lips wrapped around your clit and bringing you to ecstasy has you literally dripping all over the sheets.

“If you tell me that,” he pauses and looks up at you with a grin, pretty canines on full display. “Then it kind of seems like this isn’t just a pity fuck.”

You whine out in frustration, and Mingyu is sure he’s never seen a hotter sight. Your reactions and arousal is all evidence of the desire you’ve been denying that you have for him. And once you admit it, he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

“You know it’s not.” You say through a frustrated groan. “So just eat me out already!”

Mingyu complies with a smug laugh, but his laughter is soon replaced by an animalistic groan when he gets a taste of your juices. He’s gentle with his movements at first, but as soon as he sees the starry-eyes look you’re giving him, he dives in like a starved man.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You moan out, grinding your cunt onto his tongue with a neediness that has his cock throbbing in desire.

The lower half of his face is covered in your juices, and the sight is enough to get you to clench on his tongue. His hands push your thighs farther apart as he shoves his tongue deeper into your aching cunt. He harshly pulls you toward him, encouraging your needy humps against his face.

“This all for me, princess?” He teases, his voice sending vibrations straight to your clit.

Your fingers trail down your naked body until they latch on to his dark hair as your dripping pussy clenches around his tongue. He pulls back a bit when you don’t immediately answer him.

“I asked you a question, baby. You already too fucked out to answer me? I haven’t even started yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he dives back in to where you need him the most. Desire ignites in his veins as his cock is twitching and leaking on your silk sheets. Mingyu groans against you as you chant his name like a mantra. He thinks he’ll go crazy when you meet every swipe of his tongue with an eager grind of your hips.

Lewd squelching noises fill the room as he fucks you with the muscle, lazily blinking up at you when your hips grind against his face. “Such a sweet pussy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Desire is thick in his voice as you arch into his mouth. “Mingyu!”

You feel like your head is swimming when his tongue splits through your folds, slurping at the slick that’s gathered between them before he’s dragging it up to roll over your clit. The sight of Mingyu so fucked out on your taste, eyes rolling back like it’s his first taste of heaven only makes you feel even better.

He closes his lips around your bud, suckling languidly until more pretty moans are spilling from your mouth. Your clit starts to feel firmer when he flattens his tongue against it, messy with his spit and your arousal. Mingyu thinks heaven does exist, and it’s between your thighs. When he looks up to see your head thrown back in pleasure, moaning for him, he knows that if he’s in heaven then you’re definitely an angel.

“Mingyu!”

His cock seeps with precum at the first taste of your cream on his tongue. The entire lower half of his face glistens with your juices as he laps up everything you give to him so eagerly. Mingyu doesn’t stop his movements until the aftershocks of pleasure feel like they burn you with each kitten lick he gives your cunt.

“Gyu.” You breathe out, gently pushing his head away. “I need your cock.”

When he rises up and sits back, you salivate at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock. You think you might be in love with the sight. “Fuck.” You groan as you trail your hands up his hard body while licking your lips. “You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you naked.”

Mingyu hides the smirk growing on his face with a pout. “That’s the only time?”

“No, but fuck. You’re so hot. Just wait until I finish my portrait of you, then you’ll know.”

That’s all it takes for him to smash his lips on to yours, messily running his tongue against your lower lip. You swallow each other’s moans, both needy and desperate with your movements. He slips an arm under your waist, tugging you closer to him as he slowly teasing your messy entrance with his weeping cock.

Mingyu keeps kissing you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth possessively. He’s overwhelmed with the smell and taste of you, and he just knows that after this he won’t ever be able to let you go.

“Oh fuck.”

Your moan when he slowly eases his cock inside you nearly have Mingyu coming right then and there. Your sweet pussy us sucking him in, clamping down on him and massaging his aching dick with your velvety walls. He feels like he’s drunk as he starts to roll his hips into you, giant balls gently hitting your ass.

The gentleness of his movements have your head swimming, and you can’t help it buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. Mingyu is obsessed with how well your tight cunt is taking his cock. His eyes are wide with unadulterated adoration as you moan out his name and use all your strength to pull him closer to you.

“Fuck, baby. You’re taking my cock so good.” He groans as he sets a rougher pace. “Best pussy I’ve ever had. Wanted you for so long.”

The way your cunt squeezes him only makes him fuck you harder, loving the sight of your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he gives you. His hips are rolling into you desperately, chasing the friction the warm walls of your dripping cunt offers him, squeezing him in until it’s almost hard to move.

Mingyu angles his hips to slam his cock into the spot that has you seeing stars. You let out a loud cry as you gush around him, coating his dick and balls with your juices. It almost feels like you’re suffocating his cock, but he doesn’t slow his pace.

“Fucking love your dick, Gyu!”

Your moans soon turn into incoherent cries when he slips a hand down to rub circles on your swollen pussy. The actions push you over the edge, and Mingyu can’t contain his loud moan when your orgasm coats his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

You don’t care that you’re starting to feel delirious from how Mingyu keeps fucking you. The feeling of his cock slamming into you feels too good. Mingyu’s loud moan when he finally releases his hot cum inside you.

Mingyu’s thrusts don’t stop. He fucks him cum back into you, aching cock still chasing another high. The sight of you gone dumb on his cock has him pushing up your legs up to your chest, both of you groaning at the new angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. The wet slapping sound from your mixed releases fills your room, and all you can focus on is how his cock is splitting you open.

“Look at how dumb you get for my cock.” Mingyu says through his groans. “I knew you wanted to fuck me this whole time.”

You manage to smirk at him. “Not as bad as you wanted to fuck me.”

His thrusts get harsher and sharper. You can only mewl at the feeling, knowing you’re on the brink of coming again. Mingyu’s throbbing cock drags against your hot cunt, twitching sporadically when you softly mewl his name. The sound shoots straight to his dick as he lets out another groan.

“That’s right, princess. And now I’m never letting you go.”

You let out a wanton moan at his words. “Gyu, I’m gonna—”

You’re cut off by your own cry of ecstasy. Just the sight of you coating his pelvic area with your orgasm is enough to trigger his own. Mingyu shoots ropes of sticky cum inside you, stuffing you full of his seed until it leaks out and drips on to your sheets. He half collapses on top of you, not putting his full wait on you.

“I’m being serious.” Mingyu says as he pulls out of you and rolls you over so you’re on top of him. “I don’t plan on letting you go.”

You smile sleepily against his broad chest. “I don’t plan to, either. You’re my only exception.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo @dokwiyomie

[itsbeeble]

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION

SUMMARY: The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst

PAIRING: Lee Sangyeon x afab!reader

WC: 7.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: the enemies to we fuckin genre makes a return, mentions of alcohol, eric is a cockblock FR, cops are called oops, making out ig, HEAVY marking but it's more biting each other than anything else, mentions of bets, insults (sexual and non sexual), degredation kinda, choking kinda, hairpulling, overstimulation, face fucking, hate sex, begging, Sangyeon is mean in this oops, idk there's like 3.5k words of smut in here, Sangyeon is really possessive, brat!reader x brattamer!sangyeon, unprotected sex, this is actually kinda nasty i'm so sorry yall

A/N: um...anywayyyyy....i didn't expect to write this much for Sangyeon's fic but uhhh yeah. I hope y'all enjoy whatever...this....is

“Killer party,” your painted red lips are curled into a sly smirk, your phone dangling in your hand. Sangyeon’s eyes narrow at you, his arms crossed over his chest while he towers over you. Flashing red and blue lights surround the TBZ house, and most partygoers have scattered and disappeared into the night. He vaguely remembers seeing Sunwoo and his girlfriend taking off in his Toyota Corolla, Haknyeon getting dragged off by some girl he can’t be bothered to remember the name of. 

Of course, it was you who called the cops on him. It’s always you, ever since the two of you started the stupid bet at the beginning of the semester.

“It was,” he agrees, not wanting you to know he’s agitated. “It’ll be good for your sorority, no?”

Juyeon stands across the road from him, near the door of the frat house, chatting with a few officers. The other boys are scattered across the lawn, some watching Sangyeon’s interaction and some talking with each other. 

“Mhm, thanks for bringing us some guests, Sangie.” you chirp, spinning on your heel and beginning to walk to the street to your sleek black car. Your hips sway as you walk, your skirt rising up just a little bit and Sangyeon forces himself to look at the back of your head. He knows you’re doing that on purpose. You always do, ever since you started this rivalry. 

Keyword: you.

You were the one who almost ran him over on his first day of freshman year at IST University, yelling at him to get out of your way, that you were going to be late because he was a stupid frat boy who could never do anything right. Being hot doesn’t get you everywhere in life. It's ironic, isn’t it, considering that was how you’d been getting everything since that day.

You were the one who blew up at him at the very first frat party he’d ever hosted as a sophomore, claiming that he purposefully picked that night to host his frat’s biggest party ever. The same night that you were supposed to host your own party. You claimed he did it on purpose, to get back at you for freshman year.

It was you who’d started the bet in the first place. You who got so fed up with his know-it-all attitude, looking down at you all the time with that damn smirk of his. He thought he was everything— the king of the world. 

“Too bad the cops got called on you,” he calls out. His voice echoes in the area, over the distant whooping of college boys and the sound of police chatter and doors shutting. You whip around, stomping back over to him. The cop cars are beginning to pull away upon seeing a list of guests— all of whom were over 21. Sangyeon had been prepared for this, knew you would try something like this. 

“What did you just say?” You hiss out. Sangyeon can practically see the steam rolling out of your ears and cracks a grin.

“You didn’t hear?” Your eyebrows are knit together, and Sangyeon watches the blue and red lights flicker in your eyes. 

“Hear what, Lee Sangyeon?” you get closer to him, and he can smell the cheap perfume you wear every day. 

“Someone at your party narced as well. I heard it’s being shut down as we speak.” 

“I don’t understand why you two hate each other so much,” Saebyeol picks at the corner of one of her textbook pages, watching you type an angry message to the frat president you claimed to hate so much. For the life of her, Saebyeol couldn’t figure out why you always seemed to be texting him. 

“It’s complicated,” you tell her and she rolls her eyes.

“Clearly.”

Your phone hits the mattress and you turn your scowl to her. She’s smart enough to not look at you, knowing better than to push your buttons too much. 

Everyone knew this. Everyone in your sorority, everyone in the TBZ frat, everyone who you shared classes with. You were the class pet, but you knew exactly how to get what you wanted from anyone and everyone you wanted. Some people called you a raging bitch, some called you a spitfire, and some admired you for not being afraid. 

Lee Sangyeon, though? He did none of those things and you hated him for it. You hated that he didn’t give you the time of day after nearly running him over, claiming that it was no big deal. Even from day one, you already held the firm belief that you were hot shit and you needed everyone to know that. Sangyeon gave you no response to…anything, really. You mocked him in classes, argued with him every chance you got, even called the fucking cops on his party but nothing got his attention. Nothing got you what you wanted. He hardly spared you a glance, always having an alternate solution to any problems you created for him. He would just send you that seductive smirk of his and—

Wait, no. 

Not seductive. 

Annoying. Yes. That annoyingly sexy stupid smirk of his. 

“Y/N.” Saebyeol snaps her fingers in front of your face and huffs at the dazed look in your eyes. “Thinking about your mortal enemy again?”

“Why would I be thinking of him?” You knit your eyebrows together and Saebyeol stares blankly for a moment.

“You’re— you’re kidding, right?” Saebyeol slides her textbook off her lap and scoots toward you on your bed. “Like, this is a joke?”

“Why would I be joking about this?” You fold your arms over your chest and your sorority sister huffs. 

“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N, you have done nothing but talk about Lee Sangyeon since day one of our college career,” Saebyeol says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s always Sangyeon this, Sangyeon that, Sangyeon did blah blah blah today and ugh I wanna slap that stupid smirk off his face.” She raises the pitch in her voice, openly mocking you and you can feel your cheeks beginning to heat up with embarrassment and frustration. 

“I do not sound like that. And I don’t always talk about him!”

“If you hadn’t told me so often that you hate his guts, I would think you want him to fuck you sideways into next Wednesday. In fact,” Saebyeol grins at you, “I think you really do want him to fuck you like that.” 

Now your cheeks are on fire, blazing red so bright that she can see it even behind the curtain of your hair. 

“I do not!” You practically shriek, but your sorority sister continues. 

“I’ve heard that he’s really good, just like all the other TBZ boys,” she sighs dramatically as if swooning over him. “Really big, too.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind is suddenly stuck on the image of him drilling into you for hours and hours. Until the sun comes up until you can’t feel your legs and you’re dripping a mix of his and your cum. 

“I don’t need to hear this right now,” you wave Saebyeol away. She purses her lips. “Get out, scram.”

“Alright,” she concedes, raising her hands in defense. “Don’t come crying to me when we have to attend his party and you guys end up fucking all night.” 

Your head snaps up.

“What do you mean we have to attend his party?” A wicked grin appears on Saebyeol’s face.

“Didn’t you hear? We lost the bet.”

Sangyeon doesn’t expect to hear your shriek of his name and to see you barreling down the hall at 8AM on a Monday, steam once again pouring out of your ears. He doesn’t expect you to grab him by the collar of his shirt and half-drag-half-walk him into the nearest empty classroom and slam the door shut, shoving him against the wall immediately after. He won’t deny that he finds this side of you attractive, especially when you press up against him. 

“How did you do it,” you practically spit out. He arches one of his perfect eyebrows, a playful grin on his lips. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, princess.” A lie. Of course, Sangyeon knows what you’re talking about. It’s all his brothers had been raving about since the party that got shut down. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Your eyes are narrowed, but Sangyeon swears he sees another emotion in them. No, he tells himself, it couldn’t be. You would never. 

“Why not? Isn’t that what you are?” He sees it. The most subtle weight shift, the tiniest press of your thighs together. The shaky breath that you try to keep steady, but he knows you. Four years of debates, competitions, and arguments and he had never once seen your breathing unsteady. Wavered from lack of air, sure. He’d seen that one plenty of times. 

Unsteady, however? That was a whole different ball game that he could use to his advantage. 

Had you asked any of the Tau Beta Zeta boys or any student at IST Uni, they would tell you that this competition, this rivalry that you so vehemently claimed existed was entirely one-sided. Anyone could tell you that Sangyeon was just entertaining you, using it as a way to stay close to you in hopes that one day you would cave for him. 

Not for him to win. No, he couldn’t care less about winning (you’d never guess it from his winning streak). He cares about you. He’d wanted you desperately since day one, but he knew you hated everything about him. 

Or, at least, so you told everyone around you.

“I’m not,” you try to sound angry, to keep your voice rough, but every word that spills out of your mouth comes out in a whine that takes Sangyeon’s breath away. “Don’t call me that!”

“Are you sure?” He takes a step forward, and you’re forced to back up until he has you pressed against one of the rows of tables. “You don’t really seem to be putting up too much of a fight about that do you, princess?”

Your breathing hitches and Sangyeon cages you in with an arm on either side of the table behind you. His eyes bore into yours, and you catch the brief swipe of his tongue across his lip. Your eyes flick down, and then back up, and then Sangyeon’s lips are on yours. 

They’re softer than you thought they’d be (not that you’d thought about it). They’re soft, but he presses them against you with such fervor that you feel like the shape of them would be scorched into your skin. You try to keep pace with him, but his hand is in your hair, yanking on the strands to tilt your head back and you find yourself lost in a daze of pleasure. Sangyeon pulls back for just a few moments when your body shudders against his, a whimper forcing its way out of you. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He yanks on the strands again, your jaw dropping open and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “You dirty bitch.” His lips attach to the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck. You lift yourself onto the table, your hands all over him. You put them under his shirt, scraping at his back as he sucks dark marks into your skin that you know will take too much product to cover up. Your nails scrape at his back, digging into the muscles that you know good and well he’d worked hard for. The image of him in the gym, sweat dripping from his shirtless body presses to the front of your mind and you find yourself pushing the fabric up his torso.

Sangyeon doesn’t let you get a good look at his body, however. His hands come down on you, forcing you to lay back on the table. He drags you toward him, your hips sliding against his while he hovers over you. 

“So quiet now,” he hums. “What happened to that mouthy little princess from earlier?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, and to your complete surprise, he listens.

In your lust-filled daze, you reach your body up, connecting your spit-slicked lips once more. Sangyeon groans quietly, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight to him. Your back is arched, your neck pressed into an awkward angle but you don’t seem to care. Not when he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth with so much desperation you would think this was his last day to live. 

He raises you back up into a sitting position but finds that that isn’t quite enough for him and slides his hands under your butt to haul you off the table, walking twenty feet to press you against the wall instead. 

Your lips detach from his, slipping down to his neck to lick and suck and bite at the skin there. You aren’t gentle with each other, not now. Four years of pent-up…anger? Frustration? Hate? Sangyeon isn’t quite sure what to call it, and frankly neither are you, but it fuels the kisses you’re giving each other. It fuels him every time he changes your position. It fuels to grinding of his hips into yours and forcing little whines out of you. Your core pulses every time his bulge slides against you, and you swear you would let him kiss you like this for hours—

The door slams shut, and Sangyeon practically drops you to the ground. A boy is standing there, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open as he stares at you and Sangyeon.

“Um,” the boy starts to speak but Sangyeon cuts him off, his eyes still boring into yours.

“Get the hell out, Eric.” The boy— Eric nods dumbly, starting for the door but you stop him. You’re suddenly all too aware of the position you were just in, of what exactly you just did and a numb feeling fills your stomach.

“It’s fine,” your voice is hoarse and Sangyeon turns his eyes back to you. They’re screaming at you, those eyes of his. Screaming at you to stay, to talk. “I’ve gotta go anyway.”

“Y/N—” Sangyeon starts but you cut him off. 

“Don’t.” Your voice shakes and so does your hand as you push him away from you. His face contorts for a moment, but you turn your back on him before anything else can be said. “Just…just stay away from me, Lee Sangyeon.”

You wish the bet had never happened. You wish that Lee Sangyeon didn’t make an appearance in your life. 

You wish that he would stop staring at you as you help decorate his frat house. Which, by the way, isn’t as gross as you had imagined it to be. That’s not the point, though.

The point is that you’ve felt his eyes on you the entire time you’ve been there. You felt his eyes on you whenever you stopped to talk with one of the boys in the house, ask where something should go or what alcohol they want. 

“Sangyeon can’t take his eyes off you,” Hyunjae comments as you pass by with one of the last boxes. You freeze where you stand, your cheeks immediately beginning to flush a deep shade of scarlet. “Any idea why, Miss President?”

“No idea.” You tell him, but the nerves seep into your every word and you can’t help but wonder if you’d covered the marks on your neck well enough. You wondered if the scratches you’d dug into Sangyeon’s skin had been revealed to his brothers or if Eric had snitched. You doubt that he had, though, based on the glares that Sangyeon shoots toward him and the way he ducks his head and scurries off to do something far away from the two of you.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Hyunjae sing-songs and you roll your eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“I think that you finally let loose a little bit and things got a little…frisky.” Hyunjae taps the side of his neck and your breathing hitches. So you didn’t cover them entirely. Shit.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you thought, then, right?” He grins at your statement and steps to the side so you can shove past him. 

“Hit it right on the nose, didn’t I?” He trails after you with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lee Hyunjae.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And stop following me around.”

“Why would I do that?” he counters. “It’s getting on Sangyeon’s nerves. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Isn’t it? Honestly, you weren’t so sure anymore. You could still feel his lips on yours, feel the way he burned the imprint of his lips into the column of your throat, feel the size of him as he ground his hips into you. 

“Usually, yes.” You smile, but it might be more of a grimace at this point. “I tend to get on his nerves.” 

Saebyeol eyes you from ten feet away, watching the way Hyunjae practically corners you in this conversation. You can see the curiosity burning in her gaze, but then your eyes turn to Sangyeon, and a swirl of heat pools in your gut. He looks pissed, but you can’t figure out why. What could he possibly be pissed about?

“I have a few ways we can piss him off,” Hyunjae leans toward you, and suddenly he’s being yanked back with a yelp. “What— dude what the fuck?” 

Sangyeon just scoffs. 

“Stay away from her, Hyunjae.” He says with a little sneer. The heat in your stomach is replaced with an uneasy churning. 

“I was just talking to her!” The younger man protests, but you can see the glint in his eyes. He’s enjoying every second of this confrontation. “Right, Y/N?”

“Didn’t particularly look like she was enjoying your conversation,” Sangyeon shrugs. 

“And you’d know that really well, wouldn’t you?”

You aren’t sure why you chose that moment to step in, but the way Sangyeon flinches at your statement makes you want to backtrack. For the first time in your life, you’re beginning to regret some of the things you’ve said to Sangyeon. 

For the first time in your life, when Sangyeon starts to walk away from you, you want to run after him. To apologize. To grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness. 

You don’t. Instead, like always, you watch him walk away from you with a distraught look on your face. 

“I can’t believe you’re willingly going to talk to him,” Saebyeol practically yells into your ear over the loud music. The party is loud. So loud, and packed with more people than you’d ever seen at KAT or TBZ parties. It very nearly deafens you, but tonight you’re on a mission. 

“What can I say,” you shrug. “It bothers me when he’s the one walking away ticked off. Plus, I need to have the last word without the emotional guilt” 

Sabyeol laughs loudly before tipping her cup back to empty the contents into her mouth. You’d wager that the contents are terrible considering that the “bartenders” of the night are Chanmi and Hayoung from your sorority. Those two are notorious for never being allowed on bartending duty at your parties after the Hennessy Incident of 2021. You’d been more than happy to let them bartend for this party, however, knowing that they’d make everyone so fucked up that it would be easy for you to convince them they never saw you and Sangyeon together. 

“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the way you came back to the house the other day looking like someone tried to eat you?” Saebyeol smirks and you scoff. 

“So everyone knows, then?”

“That you and Sangyeon made out in an empty classroom?” You nod. “Yeah. Eric told everybody.”

“Fantastic.” For a moment, you see sympathy on your sorority sister’s face. 

“Y/N, I promise you that wanting him is not as bad as you think. If it makes you feel better, one look at you and he’ll be crawling on the ground begging for just a taste.”

“It’s not even that, though!” You say and grimace at the last part of her statement, but she’s not listening. She’s focused on something behind you, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “What? What are you staring at?” 

“I— turn—” she cuts herself off, grabbing you and whipping you around. She uses her other hand to grab your chin and point you exactly where she wants you to look and your stomach drops. 

“Holy shit.” 

Lee Sangyeon, in all his glory, is walking toward you with a determined look. And you…you feel that arousal from a few days ago coming back when you see him. It’s not as if he’s dressed in an overwhelmingly attractive way. A white baseball cap that shields his eyes, a black tank top with an unzipped leopard-print jacket over it, and some dark jeans paired with those old Converse of his. A chain that you’d never seen before (not that you’d been paying attention, that is) glittered under the lights that you had set up earlier that day. 

When he finally stops in front of you, every word that you’d planned on saying to him is swept out of your brain. 

“Y/N.” He says, and you half expect him to whip out that stupid smirk. Saebyeol pats you on the shoulder and slips away from you, pushing her way through the party to find someone to talk to. 

“Sangyeon,” you keep your voice curt and do your damn best to keep your gaze anywhere except on his eyes. 

“I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“And what would we possibly have to talk about?” You ask, already knowing the answer he’s going to give you. He laughs airily, taking a brief glance around the room before he reaches for you. You do your best to not flinch or react in any way when he pushes a strand of hair back over your shoulder. 

Unfortunately, you can’t stop the whine that bubbles out of you when he tightens his hand in your hair and yanks your face toward his. You mentally curse yourself for being into something like this, knowing that he’ll never let you hear the end of it if this goes too far. 

Sangyeon lowers his lips to your ear, speaking at a level that only you can hear over the noise surrounding you. 

“You know exactly what we need to talk about, pretty girl.”

“Always got so much to say,” Sangyeon slams your body against the wall of what you assume is his bedroom as soon as the lock clicks into place. Your breathing is already wavered, your hands shaking as you clutch at his shirt, laving over the skin of his neck with your tongue and biting harshly to the point that you nearly draw blood. “Always have to get the last word until I get my hands on you, don’t you baby?” 

“Just shut the fuck up already,” You snap and Sangyeon scoffs. His hand slides around your body and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling your hips against his while he lets you leave your marks. While he lets you have your fun. He has you exactly where he wants you, and both of you know it. 

“What about a safe word?” You glare up at him when he continues to press you with questions and quickly spit one out so you can go back to biting marking him.

He doesn’t know if you notice that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that he’s just been standing above you, rolling his hips into yours, and letting you practically eat his neck. He does know that you’re fumbling. You’re losing yourself, suddenly all too desperate to have him that your body is shaking. Sangyeon loves it.

“What would your sorority sisters say if they saw you like this, hm?” Sangyeon drags a hand up your spine and grabs your hair again, this time just tight enough to get your attention. You pull away from him, your lipstick smeared across your lips and cheek, and your eyes narrow into a dangerous glare. 

“It’s a good thing they aren’t here, then, isn’t it?” You shoot right back, pulling him down by the neck to crush your lips against his. The way you two are kissing is entirely different. He kisses you with an agitating slowness, smiling against your lips. You are kissing him like you’d been in the desert for a week and he was the first glass of water you’d seen since your escape. Your force your tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking at his own. It pisses you off how disinterested he seems to be when he was the one who wanted you to come up here with him. Was Sangyeon mocking you?

Anger swirls in your stomach and you shove Sangyeon back to the edge of his bed. He stares up at you with nothing but pure amusement while you strip him. He does absolutely nothing to help you. Not yet. He’s biding his time and you don’t even know it yet. 

Or, maybe, you do. Maybe you know exactly what’s going on in his mind as you begin to strip yourself of your own clothes, trying to gauge his reactions but he does nothing but stare at you with belittling amusement.

Sangyeon lets you push him down on his bed, leaning back on his elbows, and watches as you crawl over him with your cunt hovering barely a centimeter over his hardened member. That is the only acknowledgment you get that tells you he wants this just as much as you do. He feels the heat radiate off of it, and can feel your arousal beginning to slip down and create a puddle between the two of you. 

Not yet, he tells himself. But it’s getting harder and harder with every one of your movements.

You kiss your way down his body. Well, more like bite. 

“You really like biting me,” he comments, his voice mildly unsteady. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” You retort, letting your lips kiss the trail of hair leading to his pelvis. Sangyeon watches you lower your body to the floor, your small hands wrapping around his member and giving it a sharp tug. His throat closes as he fights back a groan. 

“You— fuck me,” His eyes roll into the back of his head and he trails off with a load groan when you suddenly wrap your lips around him. “Fuck, couldn’t you warn me?” 

You hum, the vibrations sending sparks down his cock and he sucks in a sharp breath. He can only watch as you begin to take him deeper and deeper, and he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat, can hear you starting to gag on him, but you don’t stop until you physically cannot breathe anymore. Until your nose is almost pressed against his pelvis. You stay there for a moment, your hand on his bare hip and digging your nails in to focus on something other than the fact that you are quite literally about to choke on his cock.

Then you swallow around him and Sangyeon’s body twitches. You pull your mouth off him and lick gently at his tip before you take him all the way down, as far as you can, and do it again. Sangyeon caves.

Now.

You practically fall backward at the rate Sangyeon moves. He slips out of your mouth, a string of spit loosely connecting you to his tip. He kicks you backward, his foot connecting with the back of your thigh and shoving you as far he can until he’s able to comfortably stand over you and you’re the one leaning on your elbows for support. 

“What the fuck was that?” You snap, trying to push yourself up but Sangyeon just kneels over you, shoving you down with one hand only to grab the back of your head with the other and hold you in place. “Lee Sangyeon, let me fucking go—”

“Too late for that, princess.” He coos, and he brushes his thumb of the hand in your hair across your cheekbone. “Open that pretty little mouth for me, will you?” You almost don’t listen to him, but a part of you knows that if you don’t, he won’t hesitate to tie you up and leave you here for anyone to find. 

Your mouth slowly drops open and for a moment, you think he’ll be gentle with you. For a brief, naive moment you believe that he won’t be rough. 

Those thoughts are gone when he suddenly thrusts into your waiting mouth, forcing you to take all of him. You immediately start gagging at the force of his thrusts, your hands clawing at his waist and scrambling for something to hold. He seems to have no problem, however, holding you in place with one hand. It’s so messy, an overwhelming amount of spit that forms in your mouth being the only lubricant he needs to punch into your throat. 

“Look at you,” He hisses out with half-lidded eyes. “Slobbering all over my big dick like the good little bitch that you are.” You try to whine, try to make some sort of noise but you’re having a hard enough time breathing with his erratic thrusting. Your jaw aches, straining against his girth and tears are gushing down your cheeks. Your lungs are burning, but you have no way of telling him to stop. “Fuck, feels so good around me baby.” 

Your thighs are rubbing together, and you manage to find it in you to slip a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the little nub. Sangyeon sees this, and he lets out a breathless laugh. 

“Fucking slut,” he sneers, fucking your face harsher than he was before. He can feel himself getting closer every time you gag around him, every time you try to take a breath and choke on it. “Can’t even sit still while I’m fucking your face, huh? Have to be a little slut and touch yourself too?” 

You’re able to whine out this time, and the vibration makes him slow down enough for you to start sucking at him like a lollypop. You can’t move your head at all, not with the grip he has on your hair, but you’re able to give long, hard sucks and you’re able to swallow around him enough to draw loud moans out. Your body quivers under all of the sensations you’re feeling. The tears running down your cheeks, the massive dick that’s bruising the back of your throat, the spit running down your chin and dripping down to your chest, the feeling of your slender fingers pushing into your sopping wet cunt over and over again. 

It’s getting to be all too much for you, and thankfully it seems to be too much for Sangyeon too. 

Like he knew you were about to reach your peak (and he probably did with the way you were moaning like a mad woman around him), he rips his cock out of your mouth and lunges for your hand to pull it away. 

“Not a fucking chance,” he grinds out, his heavy eyes trained on the way you practically sob and beg for your release. 

“Was s’close,” you reach a hand up, brushing the back of his neck. He scoffs at your words. “Please, Sangie, please. Jus’ wanna cum! Jus’ wanna be ready for you!” His dick twitches, still hard and leaking precum from the release he’d forced himself to hold back from. 

“Such a thoughtful little bitch,” he coos and lets your hair slip from his fingertips. You whine, pawing at his leg as some sort of way to get him to be kind to you, just this once. “I’ll make you feel good, baby. Don’t worry, I promise.” Another sob from your mouth as Sangyeon slips three thick fingers into you without any warning, without prepping you at all for any of them. 

You moan in protest as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, but your back arches into him when he curls them and brushes ever so slightly against a spot inside of you that you didn’t even know was there. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, more drool spilling out the side of your mouth. 

Your orgasm catches back up to you quickly and your body shakes against Sangyeon, a wild moan escaping your bruised throat. He watches you with careful eyes and his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips. He works you through that first orgasm quickly, and you expect him to pull his fingers out and replace them with his dick.

He doesn’t. 

In fact, as the overstimulation starts to hit you and you try to push him away from you, he just smiles coyly. 

“Thought you wanted to cum, princess?” He pouts mockingly and you whine in protest. The sounds coming from your pussy are disgustingly wet, your arousal and cum spilling out of you in neverending waves. “Why are you asking me to stop? Don’t you wanna cum?”

“‘M sensitive,” you whine into his shoulder and he clicks his tongue. 

“Poor baby,” he runs his hand down your spine, pulling you up to sit in his lap while he pulls his fingers out of you. Your body sags in relief, but that doesn’t last long before he’s flipping you over to lay face down on the floor. 

“Need me to slow down?” His hand is on the back of your neck, forcing the upper half of your body to lay on the hardwood floor. It’s uncomfortable, but you don’t complain. Not to him. “Need me to stop for a minute? Give you time to rest?”

“Yes— I mean— Fuck, I meant no,” you gasp out and Sangyeon scoffs.

“It sounds to me like you’re confused, baby. So which is it? Do you need to stop or do you want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow? Until you’re lying on the floor dripping with my cum and just waiting for me to fuck one more load into this little pussy?” 

When you just whine and push your hips back into him, he knows he’s won. Knows he’s fucked the brat out of you and he hasn’t even stuck his dick in you yet. 

“Can’t believe you made me wait four years for this, princess,” Sangyeon presses his hand down on the center of your spine, forcing you to arch your back even more as he slides into you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out with your words slightly slurred from being pressed into the ground, curling your fingers into your palm and digging your nails in. Your walls are fluttering around Sangyeon, contracting and expanding in weak attempts to open up and take all of him. “Why the fuck are you so big?” 

Sangyeon spits out a laugh, falling still with just over three-quarters of him inside of you. He has to take that breath, has to let himself slow down. If he doesn’t, he might cum without even being able to fuck you properly, and he can’t have that. 

“That might be the first compliment you’ve ever given me, princess.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” your voice breaks at the end when he shoves the rest of his length into you. “I fucking hate you, Lee Sangyeon.” 

“No you don’t,” he grins maliciously down at you, knowing that you won’t be able to see it. “You love me.”

At the moment, you can’t argue that. Not when he draws his hips back and slams them back in. You yelp when your body slides forward on his hardwood floor, trying to find purchase on something, anything around you, but Sangyeon doesn’t give you the chance. He sets the pace fast and hard, his grip on your waist being the only thing to keep you from falling completely to the ground. 

You don’t realize how warm your body has gotten until his grip starts slipping due to your combined sweat. Until his body is suddenly hunched over yours, his sweaty chest sliding against your back every time he ruts into you like a dog. He’s panting into your ear, letting out little grunts and groans every time you squeeze around him. You’re no better. In fact, you may be worse with the way you practically scream his name, little wails forced out of you every time he sheathes his length into you. 

“What a sight,” Sangyeon grunts out, pulling himself off you just enough to see your body in full again. His hair is damp, hanging over his face in sweaty strands. “The IST University Spitfire crumbling into pieces for the one person she swore never to touch. Isn’t that something?”

“Sh— shut—” you grind your teeth together, struggling to barely get a word out between every moan and whine and sob you emit. “Your— your fu—fucking mouth.”

“See, I would,” Sangyeon says and you feel him twitch inside of you. “But it’s just so much fun to see you like this.” 

Part of you wants to curse him. Part of you wants to shove him off you and give him a piece of your mind before leaving him to jack off like a high schooler. Unfortunately, the larger part of you that just wants him harder, faster deeper, more more more wins. 

He goes quiet after that, though, and the two of you are left in silence. The “silence”, in this case, being the sound of the party raging downstairs, the sensation of your knees scraping the ground and likely forming bruises, the gasping breaths that you take, the wet sound of his hips against yours, and the scandalous noises that you couldn’t be bothered to restrain. You couldn’t care less if you’re fueling his ego right now. Couldn’t care less that he’ll likely never let you live this down. You only care about the orgasm that’s slowly climbing and climbing and climbing. You know Sangyeon is close too. The build from him fucking your throat for god knows how long and then abruptly tearing his orgasm away from himself, the tightness of your walls around him. He has to be close to cumming. You know he is. 

Sangyeon nearly falters when you grab his free hand, your fingers shaking as they wrap around it and drag him toward your clit. He laughs in mocking disbelief.

“You want me to help you?” He asks and, in your naivety, you expect him to bend at your every whim just like everyone else. As if you’d forgotten the past four years in your fucked out state. 

“Please,” you drag out the e sounds, and Sangyeon clicks his tongue. 

“If you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to put in more effort than that, princess.” He snaps his hips into you, enjoying the way you cry out and scramble to stabilize your body again. “I’ve already made you cum once, and I’m about to do it again. If you want me to help you more than I am, you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

You gnaw on your lower lip, fighting back more tears. As if that would do anything, anyway. Your makeup was already ruined— dark streaks of mascara dried into your cheeks, smeared lipstick on your chin, smudged eyeliner. Anyone who took one look at you would know exactly what happened. Didn’t matter if they were drunk or not. They’d know who did this to you.

“Please, Sangyeon,” you moan pitifully but you know that won’t be enough. “I’ll be so good, I promise. Please please please lemme cum, Sangyeon please.”

“You’ll be good?” He echoes you and laughs. “Little princess, you’ve been nothing but a little brat since the day we met. What makes you think I’m gonna believe you?” 

A hiccuped sob escapes you. “‘M sorry Sangie, I’m sorry! I pro—promise I’ll be good from now o—on. I’ll b—be good for you!”

“You will?” He asks, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see him smirking down at you. “You’ll be good for me?”

“Just for you! Just for you, Sangie! Please, please, please lemme cum! I promise I’ll be good!” 

“Okay, princess,” he says and swats your hand away from his. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The wail you let out when he picks up his pace again is desperate and carnal. His thumb rubs harshly at your clit, and the stimulation is just enough for you to be thrown over the edge again, your walls squeezing around his member so tightly he’s forced to slow down with a long, drawn-out groan. His body shudders above yours as you continue to pulse around him, forcing him closer and closer to his orgasm.

“D-don’t cum inside,” you manage to hiss out through the overwhelming pleasure. Sangyeon scoffs. 

“As if I’d wanna risk anything with you.” 

Sangyeon squeezes his eyes shut as he forces himself to pull away from you, already missing the warmth of your pussy when the air (cold in comparison) hits him. He wastes no time in wrapping his hand around his length, furiously pumping up and down as he draws closer and closer. You try to sit up, to turn around and watch, but Sangyeon forces you back down with a hand on the back of your neck (which you’re starting to think he has a thing for). 

You don’t put up a fight against him, knowing you don’t stand a damn chance with how exhausted you are. Instead, you opt to crane your neck as best you can, watching in awe (which you would never admit, amongst a handful of other things) as he tilts his head back and lets his jaw hang open, tongue prodding at the side of his mouth. You can only watch as warm ropes of white cum spurt from his tip, coating your ass and lower back. Part of you wants to reach back and swipe some of it, just for a little taste. 

When Sangyeon finally lets you up, you turn toward him with heavy eyes. For a moment, the two of you kneel there in front of each other, sweaty, covered in each other’s cum, and in some sort of daze. You watch his abs tense with every exhale, watch him brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Then you stand up, taking a few steps toward him on shaky legs, and tilt his head up to look at you in the eye. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop talking?” Your hoarse voice comes out in a purr that’s steadier than either of you thought it would, and Sangyeon grins wildly at you.

“You really think you’re gonna have any control over me?” He slaps your hand away from his face, getting to his feet faster than you’d expected him to, and grabs you, his hands squeezing your cheeks. “You’re my bitch now, princess. No changing that. You said it yourself, didn’t you?”

“I said a lot of things, Lee Sangyeon.” You sneer, but it comes out muffled and Sangyeon rolls his eyes.

“Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough if you’re still talking back, hm?” Your stomach drops, heat rolling in your stomach again. Sangyeon pushes you back toward the bed and that malicious grin returns. You’re starting to miss that smirk he always had on. 

“It’s fine. We have all night, anyway.”

By the time Sangyeon’s had enough of you, by the time both of you are entirely worn out and satiated for the time being, the party downstairs has died down and you’re covered in bruises, aching all over. You didn’t bother to move when he brought a washcloth over and began to wipe you clean, removing any traces of his or your release. 

“Never thought you’d actually cave in.” He tells you when he finally lays down. You don’t look at him, choosing to lie face down with your face stuffed into the pillows. 

“I didn’t cave in,” you say, but even you know that’s a lie. “Maybe I just needed a good fuck before finals.”

“So you admit that I was a good fuck?” Sangyeon teases, sliding closer to you and ignoring the way you groan and try to kick him back. 

“Shut up already. I need to rest.” 

A fist hits the wall behind your head and you gasp loudly, sitting straight up when you hear Eric yelling from the room next door. 

“Is this some sort of revenge? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME? WHY NOT HYUNJAE? WHY NOT SUNWOO? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?”

Your eyes narrow at Sangyeon who just lays there laughing, one hand thrown over his eyes.

“You knew he went to sleep while we were fucking?”

“Of course I did,” he says through his laughter. Your lips try to twitch up but you force them back down. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You lay back down and let him drag you over to rest on his chest. 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Keep thinking that, pretty girl. I’ll convince you one of these days.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[griefabyss69]

gotta go with '07 nailbat for realsies'

Oooh this is an older one!!! From like the summer I think?

It's Stonathan, rated PG for now, and I'm posting the whole thing (it's not very long) because it was supposed to be for an event that I didn't have enough time to join! I'd like to finish it ~one day~ but it's also... a part of a bunch of WIPs that are going to be finished purely based on vibes mostly, like if I get the actual inspiration to finish it! It's not abandoned though because I do actually like the idea!!! I haven't gotten to the proper reason why I started writing it (something about Jonathan being the original maker of the nailbat and giving it to Steve when his life took a nosedive and Steve using it to protect them both and all of the symbolism etc), though it does start a little bit at the end Thanks for asking!!! <3 <3 <3

Honestly, living with Jonathan Byers should be like, fucking weird.

But it's not.

It's like, the guy wasn't necessary a thorn in his side but certainly was half of the center of some of the biggest hurt he's ever felt, but also, that was ages ago.

Years.

Steve hands him the joint, watching his lazy smile as their fingers brush. He's getting pretty high, the stuff that Argyle brings with him when he comes down from California is intense, but tonight he doesn't mind.

The thing is, he'd wanted to move in with Robin when she went off to university, but that didn't work out because she had gotten a girlfriend six months before she left and well. He wasn't about to third wheel or anything.

He wasn't gonna cockblock a couple of a lesbians after they'd spent their whole lives living in the heterosexual world of Hawkins.

So he and Robin had cried about it and then made different plans, something that would get Steve out from under his parent's thumb once and for all, but not leave him burdened with either the cost of living alone in a big new city or figuring out how to live with a complete stranger.

And here he is, smoking weed on his little balcony with Jonathan, who was attending the same school as Robin but apparently fucking hated living in the dorms.

He was of course worried about it all, about how fucking quickly he could tank this tentative friendship and blow up another home life, but so far it's been alright.

They even made it through their first fight about both of them being forgetful dickheads, and like, came to a solution and everything. Turns out you don't forget if it's your week for dishes or laundry if one guy does laundry and one guy does dishes. Groceries and garbage are less scheduled, but they're also easier to remember, and even if Steve forgets that Jonathan asked him to take out the garbage, he can do it in like two minutes tops.

They get along sober of course, had to have been through the whole getting an apartment and moving and driving around and going to school or work thing, but when they both have downtime in the evening and Jonathan's brain power isn't chained to any coursework, they smoke each other under the table.

Do they smoke too much weed?

Probably most definitely.

But it helps, with like everything they don't talk about. The shit that Jonathan tells him is because of trauma and the shit that the doctors tell him is because of brain injury. It's better than painkillers, and a world better than when he used alcohol to keep his head above water, so he's not worried for now.

Sometimes, though.

It's not enough.

--

There's a sound, he can't even remember what. A thud, or a crash, or a yell, maybe just a whisper, and he's up, on his feet, nailbat in hand before he even thinks to grab it.

He's silent, all of those years of sneaking past his parents and past other people's parents training him into memorizing the creaky places in the floor, how to open his door without disturbing the air too much.

The entrance to the kitchen is just out of reach, and he's ready to grab the archway there and pull himself in, swinging, when someone hisses out a curse.

"Shit."

It's Jonathan, his voice disembodied and in the dark.

Steve lurches forward before he gets scared, wanting to make sure he's not mistaken, and slaps his hand on the light switch, illuminating the kitchen.

Jonathan yells, flinching back into a fighting stance, eyes wide and round as he looks up where Steve is standing a few feet away.

"What're you doing?" Steve asks, squinting at the bright light. His eyes take too long to adjust these days.

"Uh, milk?" Jonathan asks, gesturing at the carton that lays on the floor, the milk spilled all over the tile. "Or, trying to?"

Steve sighs, forcing himself to put the bat down, leaning it against the wall.

"I'll get a towel."

--

They're at the kitchen table, Jonathan eating a bowl of cereal while Steve eats some cookies, even though it's like 4am, fuck it, because Steve's feeling restless and knows he won't sleep again tonight.

He assumes Jonathan is here for the same reason, since they've both cleaned up and he apologized for waking Steve even though like, he didn't have to be sorry.

It was kind of tense, Steve starting to feel less like he needed to square up with an invisible enemy but still on edge. He just watches Jonathan out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to fully look away because he wants to know he's safe.

[bi4bihankking]

Tag you're it! Your turn to tell me about Hank 😁

:( I forgot about this ask

Hank is the kid of one of the JSA's worst/most commonly appearing villains and a minor superheroine that people don't really care that much about in universe. I guess he's like... what if the Joker had a kid with Stephanie Brown, except with powers.

On the same day that the other Infinitors show up to try to force the JSA members to let them into the JSA, Hank also shows up, although he doesn't really ever indicate that his goal IS to join despite what the fandom says. He mostly wants their help with stopping the Ultra-Humanite, who finds him to be the most annoying person alive according to their interactions.

He starts off having a kind of bad relationship with his dad because his mom died when he was a kid (his mom did not die when he was a kid) of a broken heart, and he blames his dad for it, but the relationship gets a lot better when his Dad decides to side with him against the Ultra-Humanite, but then immediately dies trying to protect him, and ends up giving Hank all of his powers as he dies. To leave him something of a legacy, and so he can do good with them.

While with Infinity Inc. he dates Jade, and the relationship is cute, but Todd attempts to cockblock at every opportunity, and he generally is a sweetheart, but with occasional appearances of an illusion of his dad that pops up and talks to him, which is kind of an indication that his mental health isn't necessarily great, and after his Uncle gets murdered, he quits the team, and he ends up going into a downward spiral that ends with him fighting Captain Atom's Justice League during a breakdown.

Alan Scott, who is the world's biggest bitch, swoops in at this point to fund???? an asylum????? where he is experimented on because of his powers????? and is implied to be essentially trapped there on drugs until he dies?????? No one in the fandom likes this. Also Todd tries to kill him. I think more people in the fandom might like that.

He either breaks out or gets broken out, and Black Adam puts Mister Mind in his head, and Mister Mind then puppets his body while also eating his brain, and apparently after the JSA beat the Black Reign team Mister Mind ate away at the growth in his head and this "cures" him. The JSA is like "yeah we'll send him to live with his mom" who it turns out is alive, and we don't actually ever get to see Hank's revelation to the fact that the parent he thought died when he was a kid was actually alive.

Also at some point he left the country when no one was paying attention and started living with a drug cartel. Hank has... no normal plots.

Basically he is a very tragic boy who has been hurt by the people he loves and I am invested in him getting to be happy, but he is currently being kidnapped and tortured again so I don't think that's likely.

[crazy56u]

Happy Valentines Day, time for newspapers and jackass raisin-looking fuckers.

“Last time on Quantum Leap: Oh, I bet you thought we forgot about that chip subplot… Get fucked.”

And now the wolf is in the hen house, and odds are he ain’t fucking leaving.

Also, Ben wrote a letter; in unrelated news, Tom is pissed.

Hard cut to the 80s!

Cinematic parallels: Ian got an ominous phone call last week, Ben gets one today.

“Look, I could tell you more about the people who are gonna die, but because I hate you now- (CLICK!) (beeeeeeeeeeeeep)”

“God, where do I find you people?!” …the want ads?

Why does the guy Ben leapt into look like Jack Quaid?

Ben, you are doing swimmingly at acting normal today.

And the reporter is dismissing the fact Ben got an ominous phone call, and I vividly remember a car blowing up in the trailer for this episode, so, 5… 4… 3…

“Look, I’m Connie Davis, fuck your phone call.”

“This is the biggest story I’ve had in months.” And hard cut to Halloweentown.

“Steve, exactly how big is your pumpkin?” Big enough to topple the government?

I love how you can tell Connie wanted to die the second “Good gourd” was spoken.

“Now Steve, I know your viewers are dying to know- just like how your wife is probably literally dying, based on that cough-”

Meanwhile, the real 3 Ws: Waffles, wine, and Wednesday afternoon napping

“Okay, Steve said words, I wanna leave now.”

“There, I punched the camera, that’s how you know the battery died.”

“Look, Ben, you stopped a stroke, but car crashes are a little more unpredictable. Also, there’s this guy, Gideon-“

And I’m hoping to God the produces bought that number before someone tried to call it…

“Can we please focus on the leap, and not the subplots?”

My guess, Connie got fired for talking shit about Barbara Walters.

“And now she does-“ “Pumpkins.” Phrasing.

The more pumpkin puns she is forced to hear and say, the more Connie wants to die.

And cut to Newton’s shit ass cradle.

[Full disclosure: I am actively muting the parts of the episode involving Gideon. I have captions in, but still.]

“All I’m suing is blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.”

Just saying, Ben had three shots to indirectly erase Gideon from the plot, and I doubt this one’s gonna be the one.

“Look, sir, I’ve been kept in the dark, maybe let me in on this subplot?”

[And now I am actively glad I am muting Gideon; I can just tell he’s saying this bit of expo with a smug tone.]

Oh fuck you, I wrote “blah blah” because I didn’t have time for your bullshit, you don’t get to use “blah blah”.

…calling it now, whatever “needs” to happen, Magic is gonna take one for the team.

[Sound goes on.]

Meanwhile in the parking garage of doom.

Bean, you suck at the news.

…okay, I was joking, but is the parking garage haunted?

Fellas, you ever get cockblocked by an answering machine?

“Look, man, I know I have a gun and a ski mask, but you are freaking me the fuck out; why were you talking to a ghost?”

Dude, Ben doesn’t even know what the story is. Neither do we!

Game Theory: The guy actually forgot to check if his gun was loaded, and had to pivot at the last second.

“That’s right, I punched you in the face, I hope you learned something today.”

[“Okay, Ben blacked out, cue the title.”]

Stop telling Ben to drop a thing he knows shit all about.

…is it bad that I thought she was gonna dump whiskey on his wound?

“I think we have a story-” “A concussion.” A story-driven concussion.

BREAKING NEWS: Pumpkins are attacking people!

“Look, I had to make you look like a dumbass to save your ass.”

“What if this is the next Watergate? You know, I heard the real reason that got tipped off to the press was because a college professor snuck into the building so that this one student could say goodbye to her dad before he went to Vietnam! He even did a dance on the steps and talked to a ghost!”

“Rule one of doing work: See rule one.”

“Why are you always covered in blood, and do I keep thinking that’s low key hot?”

Ben, the universe can suck an egg.

“You’re the best leaper I know.” Meanwhile Elsewhere, Sam Beckett is seething.

“It was either being a journalist or being in the military, Ben.”

Ben 100% stole that whiteboard.

And now Ben and Addison have to figure out what the plot is.

“What do we know?” “Not much.” For example, throwing this out there, the date?

“A suit works at a company.” Mic drop.

It took mentioning a lawyer for us to get within the ballpark of the date this leap is happening on.

“There, I wrote ‘Lawyer’ big. Are closer to solving this leap?”

That fucking beast of a computer…

“Look, it’s an all-nighter, and I want a distraction from the Gideon subplot.”

Ben, no, you were doing so good, don’t get distracted by relationship shit!

I have a sinking suspicion that wasn’t all the coffee Ben drank…

Okay, so, technically Tom was the puppet.

“Look, I can do my job and be pissy about relationship bullshit.”

“I got a call at 3 in the morning telling me to burn Quantum Leap to the ground.” I swear to fucking God if that was an indirect way of saying NBC’s cancelling the show…

[No sooner did I type that, Tumblr tried eating this post, I ain’t taking any chances, part 2.]

[thevindicativevordan]

So, Marvel brough back Ultimate line. What's you opinion?

Anonymous asked: Thoughts on the official announcement for the relaunch of the Ultimate Universe?

Forget HoX/PoX, this is the biggest possible "Daddy's home!" Hickman-related announcement Marvel could make.

After his attempt to revamp the X-Men ended in failure thanks to editorial cockblocking and fellow creator dissent, I can only assume Hickman taking over a revamp of the Ultimate Universe comes with the precondition that he gets free reign. Seems like it's a reboot rather than a continuation of what came before. Seeing others describe it as "Post-Crisis Ultimate Universe" on social media was funny, but probably very on point. Hickman is after all a DC fanboy, and the Ultimate Universe needs to adjust to a post MCU world. Previously the Ultimate Universe had total freedom to revamp the Avengers because the brand was worthless and nobody cared about Cap, Thor, or Iron Man. Today those three starred in the biggest film franchise on the planet, and are incredibly popular with billions knowing who they are. Does that mean these new versions will be closer in personality to their 616 or MCU counterparts? Ultimate Thor carrying a more traditional Mjolnir is an intriguing tease, perhaps this UU won't be as militarized as it's Bendis/Millar predecessor? Hickman doesn't do standard superhero fare, but I can't begin to imagine what this new incarnation of the Ultimates will be like.

And of course there is the matter of the silhouettes. One is clearly Spider-Man, but will it be Peter or Miles? A new Ultimate Peter + the popularity of the Spider-Verse movies might finally be what gets Marvel to fold on the matter of One More Day. They'd have a new Peter in the status quo they prefer, and they could let the nerds have their "boring" married Spider-Man. Alternatively it could be Miles, either moving him back to Earth-1610 or creating a new Ultimate Miles counterpart. Problem Miles has is that he's created to be Peter's replacement. Even in the Spider-Verse movies he is stepping in to take over for the Peter of his world. Since moving Miles over to 616, they clearly have struggled with what his relationship with a living Peter could be. Is Peter his mentor? Should the two interact? Should he fight Peter's villains or have his own? Moving Miles back means he doesn't have to fight with Peter for attention, he gets to be the Spider-Man of his own universe with all the classic Spidey Rogues available to him.

One of those other two silhouettes is clearly Black Panther and that is something I'm excited for. Previous incarnation of Ultimate Black Panther sucked, now they can course correct. What does an Ultimate Black Panther look like post Chadwick? Obviously he's going to be on the Ultimates and will possibly be headlining a book of his own. Would be a godsend for me if there was an Ultimate Black Panther book, given how lousy the handling of 616 T'Challa has been, a fresh version of the character without all the baggage and Hickman involved sounds like a dream come true. As for the other one, two theories come to mind. The first is that it's the Maker. Reed botches his attempt to rebuild the Ultimate Universe and he's the only one who doesn't get rebooted. Instead he ends up like the Psycho-Pirate, the only one who remembers the previous timeline, but with the upside being that no one remembers his crimes. In other words he gets a second chance to be "Mr. Fantastic" again, which he would probably only take as a way to acclimate to this new universe until he's ready to show his true colors. Alternatively it's Ultimate Doom. In a universe where Reed is the villain, Doom is the hero, and Doom is the leader of the Fantastic Four this time.

Very excited to see where this goes.

[khaleesiofalicante]

I'm back!!! God, I need vacations already!!! How many more semesters for this to be over???

*actually looks it up*

A lot. A whole fucking lot. I am slowly dying :))

Anyway, Harry Styles' concert was fucking amazing!! I am not one for this kind of things but I loooved it!!! And I bought a little pin with a pride flag so yeeey🥰

And I also got around reading DML!!

I can't get over the fact that Alec is just shit at figuring out who is queer 😂😂

Listen David, you better stop this suicidal thoughts right the fuck now, love, or I'm going to go there, kill Albert and kidnap you myself if I must!!

OH GOD ALBERT IS THE BIGGEST PIECE OF SHIT IN THE WORLD AND I HATE HIM SO MUCH ITS ON SIGHT 🔪🔪

“I want to convert all the institutes around the world into gay nightclubs,” David replies nonchalantly. Do it!!! Don't let your dreams be dreams!!!

Max would 100% be into this idea😏

Me taking notes on everyone I need to kill for David to be free: uh-huh. Noted and on my way 🥰

“I hope you find your reason,” Alec manages to say. “A reason that is worth taking on that risk.” 🕯️manifesting this🕯️

The whole train wants David dead and apparently, David wants David dead too?

What the fuck?

It be like that sometimes 😔😔

Alec I'm-going-to-traumatize-my-kids Lightwood-Bane

Alec, stop cockblocking them pleaseeee😭

Max is unhinged and David is about to pass out from all this blushing jdhdkdkdk

“It’s okay to be scared for your family,” David says softly. “I wish I had a family I could worry about.”🥺🥺😭

Alec’s family can’t get hurt.

He will do whatever it takes to protect them.

Alec protecting his family gotta be one of my favorites genres 😍😍

“Hey! Someone is dead!” Alec growls.

“They’re still going to be dead in the morning,” David yawns.

“Wake up,” Alec drags him by his foot and out of the bed. “We need to go look for clues.”

David getting the sleep he deserves: 0

Alec dragging him out of bed: 2

Can we take a moment to appreciate the sass this two have?? Bc I think we should 🥰

YESSS!!! MALLORY IS DEAD IN 1 UNIVERSE!!! ONE MORE TO GO!!😎

“Nothing,” Alec laughs at his inside joke. Jesus. He has inside jokes with the French asshole. “Goodnight.” don't pretend you don't like him!!!

Magnus is up to something dangerous? 👀

Alec cockblocking his son's strikes again!!!

I will see this as a perfect opportunity to kill Albert thank you very much :)

I’m so glad you enjoyed the concert!!!! You deserve it 💙💙

Here is actual footage of David from DML

[lonelyvomit]

sees mention of blorbo dreams remembers one i had few weeks ago where i was about to start making out with mine then my stupid alarm went off. i never did get too the good part

alarm clocks are the biggest cockblockers in the universe I swear 😩

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

Last Prayers of a Sumerian Herder, Or Who Let the Frat Boys Out of Heaven?

Written at 18

The Watchers are coming!

The Watchers are coming!

Hide your women-

The Watchers are coming!

Oh Yahweh, please spare my cows

From those bloody Nephelim brats-

Hot damn.  It's Azazel

There go my daughters...

-Last Prayers of a Sumerian Herder

*

Samyaza is stalking me again

Oh Ishtar, make him stop!

He's strange and uncouth and crass

I would not have him as my man

But a one-night stand never hurt anything...

-Istehar's Evening Prayers

*

Dear Lord

I'm sick and tired of living in this bloody cave

What kind of idiot shuts himself up in the desert for decades,

Praying for the world's salvation?

All I want is a god-damn beer

and some busty temple prostitute at my side.

Send the Flood already, use Roach Spray on the Watchers-

I don't care! 

Just let me out

of this dumbass

pit.

Humbly, yours always

-Enoch

*

Dear God,

Thanks for the biggest cockblock of the universe, dude.

You turned my chick into a frigging constellation

Not cool- not cool, bro.

And you wonder why I left You?

- A text from Samyaza

*

Dear God

Who let the frat boys outta Hell?

- From Me, a modern day reader

[hellcheerficdatabase]

"girls don't play dungeons & dragons"

Author: julietonacross

Rating/Warning: Mature, Referenced ED

Chapter count: 1/1

Description: an established eddie munson and chrissy cunningham fanfiction, in which mike wheeler cannot stand the popular cheerleader becoming apart of the gang, will mike learn to love chrissy like the rest of the party do? or will he continue being the biggest cockblocker and thorn in eddies side?

Tags: Alternative Universe- No Vecna, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Domestic Fluff, Comfort, Mike Wheeler is a little shit, Eddie POV, One-shot, Status: Completed

[chanluster]

non ducor duco | {m}

oneshot | historical! au | gang! au | 15.2k words 

“The most notorious gang leader in Victorian London can gouge out the eyes of men, steal from the corrupted rich, and terrify an entire city, but cannot figure out a few complicated feelings with you.”

s u m m a r y >> the leader of the sons of seoul, the wanted criminal mastermind, christopher bang, has the courage to commit any deed save for confronting you, his most trusted accomplice, about his feelings. however, when opportunity arises, in the shape of an invitation to a grand seasonal ball, to take down his fated enemy, he takes you to the heart of a lavish estate, both of you unaware of actions that occur inside, and after the mission.

w a r n i n g s >> gonna be using chris instead of chan cause it’s set in 1860s london, chan is a dom of course, jisung and changbin are dumb and dumber, are also massive cockblockers, some cliché scenes cause i’m a sucker for them, sexual! tension!, gore, foul language, making out, dirty talk, aggressiveness, semi-public fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!), oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, chan has a thing for being called his korean name, whack spelling for ‘cum’ as ‘come’ cause technically that word didn’t exist in 1860s, there is a plot so there will be build up

a / n > > so i went way over the 10k originally planned lmfaoooo but i hope y’all enjoy this oneshot! i worked my ass off on it and hopefully y’all can appreciate gang leader chan in 1860s london cause honestly i’m a 100% whore for that concept

back to masterlist

IT WAS A UNIVERSAL LAW THAT ONE MUST NEVER FUCK WITH CHRISTOPHER BANG. EVER.

Whatever charge you may have against him, it must be withdrawn. Whatever he had done to you — robbed you, murdered your son, destroyed your entire existence — it did not matter. There were always limits, and trying to challenge this specific criminal would only result in your undoing.

It seemed the target, cornered before you and the very man himself, did not fully understand this order.

Chris Bang, in all his midnight suited glory, took a step towards the cowering man, the ends of his longcoat trailing him in the air. His gloved hands locked behind his back, a grave curve of his lips as he addressed his next victim. “Mr. Shaw, we know you have the documents.”

This said Mr Shaw hastily shook his head, raising his hands in immediate surrender. “Please, Mr. Bang,” he whimpered. “I have no inkling of what you speak of!”

“Don’t you dare lie!” You interjected, sliding out your knife, pointing it towards him. “We received reports of you. Don’t you dare forget the monthly checks we’ve sent for its safekeeping!”

“I was taking care of it, Miss!” He backed further, until the wall of his office stopped his escape. “They came to the office though.”

“Who did?!” You demanded, but the way Chris’s hand fisted in irritancy answered your question.

The Mayor had taken their shares. Once again, the tyrant had robbed them off their fortune. 

“Mr. Shaw,” the man beside you started. The raw, dark matter in his voice had the owner’s eyes widening in pure fear. “Who was it specifically?”

“A really large man, about seven foot for sure…God, he had cuts all over his face, slight stubble,” he answered, knees slightly shaking. “Please, Mr. Bang, I have a family, children who have not grown—”

“Why is it that whenever man is at his weakest he mentions his loved ones?” A few stray locks escaped from Chris’ raked hair, caressing the ragged scar from his brow down to his cheek. “Why do you think that I’ll suddenly take pity because you have others who will mourn your existence?”

These questions had the man collapsing, leaning completely against the wall for support. You stole a glance at Chris, wondering if he was now capable of extracting the very souls from men. “Do not keep toying with me, Shaw,” he warned, leaning in slightly. “I know you have information.”

A soft, helpless whine escaped from the owner of the building. “Then-they'll kill me,” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal with desperation. It was a shame that never worked on a man with no sympathy.

“I can kill you too,” Chris countered, and in a flash a sleek, pocket knife appeared in his gloved hand, and hovered it right under Shaw’s chin. “So how about you tell me what you know, and I can prolong your imminent end, hmm? Does that seem fair enough?”

You almost felt sorry for the man. “H-his men…” tears formed in his eyes. “His men kept calling him Carter.”

“Brilliant,” you muttered. ‘Scar’ Carter, the Mayor’s link to the crime world, the dirty dealings of London. Carter, the lapdog of the socialites. The most irritating, disgusting son of a bitch you had ever encountered.

“I see.” The knife stayed, caressing the manager’s skin. “Now I know they’re to sell the documents. The bastard is greedy.

“Question is, Shaw, where is the transaction going to take place?”

Dear God, the man looked as if he was about to piss his trousers. “The ball.” He tried to gulp, but felt the curve of the blade. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a masquerade ball in a few days, and Carter already had a client. They’re going to do the dealing there, I swear on my children!”

A harsh scoff emitted from the criminal. “You better hope for the sake of your sons that you aren’t lying.” 

“Did you get the invitations?” You asked, eyes darting around the dirtied room, the messy desks and chairs lopsided from your searching. 

“Yes, yes!” He pointed to a set of drawers. “There are two in there!”

You walked towards the destination, opening the drawers and sure enough, finding the gold-edged enveloped, addressed to Shaw and his wife. “Are your names inside too?”

“No, just the envelope, but that is not important! I promise!”

You pocketed the invitations inside your coat pocket, joining your leader’s side again. Chris, after a minute of heart-wrenching silence, stood up, freeing Shaw’s neck from the knife, sliding it within his belt.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His eyes were still upon the man when he said, “Let us return.”

The both of you were ready to leave when you heard Shaw’s sudden protests.

“The Sons of Seoul, everybody!” He declared, almost hysterically. “Coming in, fucking everything up, and leaving as if nothing had ever happened!”

Chris paused in his tracks, a quiet stillness passing over his whole figure. 

“What are you going to do now, Mr. Bang?” He hissed, slowly sliding up. “Are you going to infiltrate the biggest ball of the season? Create a bloodbath on the dance floor? It’s what you love to do so ardently, no?”

You heard the harsh spit smack on the office floor. “Stop meddling with the business of the British socialites. Go back to the gutter you crawled out of.” The next words overflowed with hatred. “Go back to where you really came from, you slit-eyed prick.”

Your eyes flashed in shock, swerving around to see the raging expression on Shaw’s beady little face. Fisting your hands, you were ready to knock him out when you felt the man beside you move.

Chris whirled around, eyes promising a horrifying future as he pounced upon the manager.

A yelp was heard as Chris’ fingers dug at the corner of Shaw's eyes, and relished the cries of terror as with a roar of his own, he squeezed with his thumb and forefinger, swelling the balls of vision from their sockets. With a loud pop! the two eyes tore from their origins, gooey residue trailing down his face as Christopher Bang palmed the two organs in his hands.

He observed his victim bellowing in pain as he fell to his knees, hands covering his bloodied sockets. A ghostly smirk accompanied his lips. "Better slit-eyes than none at all."

You had to suppress the severe shivers that threatened to break your stance. 

Shaw broke the universal law. His undoing was inevitable.

He flung the eyes upon the owner, and turned on his heel, eerily cool as he walked out of the office, blood and goo still on his black gloves. Not a hair ruffled upon his pretty head. 

You spared a look at the victim, crying out in infinite pain, hands on his sockets still. “Do not fuck with Christopher Bang,” was all you said, before following the devil out of the building.

The afternoon London heat hit you as you exited the offices, Chris waiting as he examined the filthy streets surrounding you. People of all classes strolled by, beggars on the street asking for two-pence, children selling newspapers down the corners, and carriages riding away on the wide roads. The man still did not clean his gloves from the mess, and you pointed this out as you arrived at his side.

“It does not bother me,” he waved you off, but you brought out your leather skin.

“Bring your hands out,” you ordered. 

Chris scowled. “I said I’m alright,___.” He began walking forwards, towards your humble abode, not far away from your starting point. “Besides, whoever strolls past us, they’ll second guess their evil intentions against us.” You glanced over the strange looking fellows, scattered across the roads. “Shows I am not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Dirty pig.”

You felt daggers glaring into you. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” you said, turning a corner, already catching sight of the docks. “I expect this behaviour from Jisung. Perhaps even Changbin, but not from you.”

“Enough with this,” the man ordered, irritancy clear in his voice. Grumbling, you walked beside him in silence, the Thames entering your vision. You wished it would have radiated a rich, clear blue body of water, but from the stench which even reached your nose, it would be impossible. The river, a dump for the sewers, the rubbish disposed daily, was a toxic mass of water, and the cause of thousands dying from drinking its contents. When you first joined the Sons you nearly drank from the river, being saved only by Chris’ rough hand slapping the cup away. You remembered you received a harsh scolding from him that day, immediately providing you with clean water after to quench your thirst. 

A small smile curved onto your lips at the memory.

“Hand it over.”

You perked your head up to see his filthy, gloved hands out. “What is it?” You asked. 

“The water.”An irritated sigh escaped him. “I’ll clean the bloody gloves.” 

Your smile grew as you handed him the leather skin. “But only because I don’t ever want to be associated with Jisung and Changbin,” he added, and you only laughed, watching the man rub the mess off his attire as you both arrived at the docks.

The first sounds heard were not of the boats bellowing at port, nor the waves lapping in underneath the stilts. 

No, all you were welcomed with was a string of curses, spat by Seo Changbin.

“You fucking bastard, how dare you—”

“Here we go again,” you caught Chris muttering, who quickened his pace, thundering to where the two of his sidemen fought, caught in a scrap.

Han Jisung’s whines were carried through the river air, burning into your eardrums. “Bin, no, I said I’m sorry—!”

When you caught up to Chris, he opened his mouth, exasperation clear in his voice. “Boys!” He exclaimed.

Immediately the fighting ceased. The boys addressed, Changbin atop Jisung, ready to throw the final punch, turned back to see his leader scowling. Jisung let out a yelp, throwing the former from him and scrambling to his feet. Changbin followed suit, a little more slowly after rubbing his side in agony.

“Why the fuck,” Chris started, pointer finger darting between his two men, “Are you both fighting again?”

Changbin, fixing his ruined locks with his hand, shot his best friend a glare. “He took my fucking scones again.” He groaned, much too loud. “God, I specifically stored them in a place where no one would find them, but this greedy pig still managed to snuff them out!”

Jisung, a slender and more comical figure, crossed his arms, raising his chin in stubbornness. “I did not see a bloody name on them! Tell me Bin,” he matched his opponent’s stare. “Did you write down your name with blood-red ink across the scones? Because I certainly did not see the words Seo Changbin scrawled on the surface!”

“Argh!” The elder of the two turned his raging gaze towards the leader, who was watching his subordinates with slight distaste. “Chris, permission to cut off his tongue for being the bane of my existence?!”

Chris only stepped past them, heading for the big wooden table situated near the gang’s warehouse. The sounds of ships sailing in the dirty waters thrummed to the port, shouting heard all around over new, imported goods. “Another time, Changbin,” he only said, bringing out a chair and sitting down, propping an ankle over a knee. “I have encountered enough organ slicing for the day.”

Jisung’s face twisted in awed curiosity, settling himself down beside Chris. “Without me?” he let out a disappointed whine, turning to you. “I trusted you, at least!”

“I was surprised myself, Ji,” you argued, raising a hand towards the aloof man as you sat opposite your friend. “I didn’t know Chris gouged out Shaw’s eyes until they were in his hand!”

“You truly are a selfish man,” Changbin complained, plopping himself on the last seat. “Alway keeping the fun for yourself and ____.”

You did not really know why your face flushed a little at his charge, but you made sure to whack Changbin in the gut, earning a pained groan from the boy.

Chris locked his hands upon the table. “Well, gentlemen, then it is time for you to join in on the entertainment.”

The two boys exchanged confused glances. On cue, you brought out the pair of invitations within your coat pocket, tossing them to the table. “The Mayor’s brother is holding a ball,” you explained, rolling your eyes at the boys tearing open the envelopes, yanking out the oblong, cartridge paper, details inked with a precise hand. “Since it does not have names, anyone can enter the estate.”

Jisung let out an excited yell, grabbing onto Changbin’s arm. “Binnie, we can actually have some fun!”

“Not so fast, boys,” Chris said, tightening his gloves. “The invitations are not yours.”

Changbin’s face immediately fell. “Are you fucking kidding me—”

The elder held out a finger, silencing the complaints, but not the quiet grumbling of his members. “As I was saying,” he continued, hands interlocking once more, “____ and I will use the invitations to get inside, with the two of you as our bodyguards.”

“Marvellous!” Jisung exclaimed, sarcasm practically dripping on his words. “Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!”

“Jisung,” Chris warned, “How about you clean the shit off the docks instead?”

“Chan,” you murmured, causing him to glance at you. His sour expression almost softened at the word, the name which only few have ever said to him. You pondered at the time the two boys, sat to your right, tried teasing him with this name, and nearly earned an ass-beating. You, on the other hand, rather liked the way the name sounded on your tongue. 

Perhaps, you wished dearly, he liked the way it sounded on your tongue too.

The man, after a pause, averted his eyes from you, focusing them on his comrades. “You both can still enjoy the festivities, but you have to keep a low profile, because while ____ and I are socialising and distracting the guests, you both need to find Carter.”

“Is he at the party too?” Changbin propped his elbows on the table. “Lord above, I’ve been wanting to kick his arse for a while.”

“So you both just frivol away, then?” Jisung whined. “I want to drink and dance!”

“And you both will,” Chris persisted. “We all will keep a lookout for Carter and his dealings, and if any of us find him first, you report to me. At my signal, you and Changbin will break through their trade. I will be behind you as long as I slip away without anyone discovering our motives.”

You look to your leader. “There’s another problem.”

The three all turned to you. “If we are to go to the most lavish ball of the season, we certainly need to dress for it.” Suddenly, you sounded like a little girl when you pointed out, “I do not have a gown to wear for the evening.”

An eyebrow raised upon Chan’s face, while Changbin and Jisung snickered, puckering their lips. “Aww, poor little ____ has no lace to woo the rich men!”

You made to slap the pair’s arms and narrowly missed, glaring. “As if you animals have any decent attire to wear for the ball! When was the last time you wore a proper tailcoat?”

That was enough for their teasing to cease, but Changbin was adamant. “Don’t throw me in with Jisung! He doesn't even bother to shower!”

“Oi, you bastard!”

The pair were ready to fight once more when Chris cleared his throat.

“You’re right,____.”

A glance at the man who said it. “I have only seen you in stealth gear and rags, the first time I met you.” He leaned back in his creaking chair. “Perhaps it is time to flower you up a little.”

Jisung and Changbin were about to chuckle once again when you shot them a dirty look.

“I will order evening attire tomorrow,” Chris decided. “They will arrive on the day of the ball, which is adequate enough timing. 

“Now,” he declared, standing. “Are we all aware of what we have to do?”

The two boys turned sheepishly to you, who sighed and addressed the leader. “You and I attend the ball with these two fools as our bodyguards—”

“Hey!”

“____!”

“We maintain a believable facade and enjoy ourselves while also looking out for Carter and the documents. Once we find out where he is, Changbin and Jisung take him away, and we slip out of the party unnoticed.”

Chris, after a pause, nodded, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Good girl.”

And just like that, he left the table, your eyes a little wide and heart a little raced. 

When Chris retreated into the warehouse, the two boys turned their malicious gazes towards you, smirking much too wide for your liking.

“Do not,” you snapped, cheeks burning deeper, earning a smattering of laughter from the bastards.

“Whatever you say, good girl,” Changbin simpered, Jisung repeating the damned endearment until you hastily stood from your chair.

You rewarded them both with your middle finger before storming back into another warehouse, Chris’ words still engraved in your mind.

Just as Christopher Bang had predicted, the new attire arrived on the day of the ball. 

More planning had been explained, more additions to the grand scheme of the evening which was mere hours away. The gang was ready, but you can never be perfectly anticipated for any ideas gone amiss.

You even taught Jisung and Changbin to dance, ranging from the Polka to the Viennese Waltz, which was popular amongst high society in the growing years of Queen Victoria’s reign. They were terrible at the start, both of them always falling on each other, but with hard effort they learned quickly, almost perfecting the art of leading your partner on the ballroom floor.

You had not bothered asking the other if he wished to learn. There was something about him which made you think that he could do anything. Not once had he ever doubted your theory.

It was as if there was nothing in the world he could not know like the back of his gloved hand.

Thoughts like these were what filled you with such awe for him. Such deep-rooted pride that you worked under this man. Those thoughts did, however, curve into darker corners — when his midnight-lined eyes and raven figure haunted you in restless nights. 

You aggressively shook your head, swinging your legs over the dock. Sitting upon the wood, you watched the sun descend slowly, the stark yellows and whites of the sky beginning to darken. Ships docked and stayed, men with their filthy language and filthier intentions flocked outside, and strange women with too-tight corsets and lips too rosey, smirking at the newcomers, carrying out their own ways of living.

Sometimes, you’d watch this run-down life move on in this exact same spot, thanking the lucky stars for not being one of the boys with the weights on their backs, nor the girls with the untied top corsets. You thanked the same man, who brought you out of that hell, giving you the chance to fight all this wrong embedded in London. 

You also thanked him, especially that day, for calling you that endearment. 

God. The man was a criminal, yet you were the one being imprisoned. 

“____!”

You turned, heaving to your feet when you see Jisung running to you, packages in his hands. “Your gown’s inside!” He exclaimed, gummy smile lighting up his entire face. 

Throwing you the box, you caught it just before it flew into the Thames, shooting the boy a wary glare. “Careful,” you said, looking over the silk ribbon tied into a perfect bow upon the middle. Although there were greater happinesses in life, small ones such as new dresses had you in near giggles.

“I’ve got my very own tailcoat now,” Jisung yelled, ripping open the packaging, about to whip out his new clothing when you waved him to stop.

“Do it inside, Ji, or you’ll ruin your outfit!”

“Trust him to fuck up a perfectly new suit before trying it on,” Changbin’s voice drawled through the dock, who held a box of his own. “Also, the boss is saying to quit dallying and start dressing!”

You obliged, holding onto your box tenderly as you entered a little building beside the main warehouse, consisting of everyone’s rooms and privies. Your eyes glanced to Chris’ bedroom door before pushing open the door to yours, stepping inside to the small, yet decorated space, filled with a board of knives and bows displayed upon one wall and an erratic strokes of paint brushed along the textured surfaces, courtesy of Jisung and Changbin’s lack of motivation to finish your room. An undone bed was tucked into the corner, and a large mirror stood on its curled railing in the other corner, revealing yourself, hands underneath the package.

The sun fell further, sky being painted with dark oranges and purple and pinks, staining your bedroom the colours of soft autumn as you put your package on the bed, untying the ribbon and unboxing the whole treat. 

The first glance of the dress had you smiling in pure incitement.

You brought the dress out of its box, letting it trail free right down to your toes, holding it to arm’s length to examine the details : it was a mysterious, dark red, a colour which instantly attracted attention within the golds of the ballroom. The neck line was low, dipping just enough to tempt until it swelled over for the openings for the arms, black ruffles on the fabric to accentuate off shoulders. The intricate, midnight detail was stitched to perfection, creating a network of swirls upon the bodice before flaring out into the wider skirts. Dear God, you had never seen such an exquisite dress on any noble lady in this damned city.

Your smile grew a little wider. Christopher Bang, once again, has not disappointed. 

You turned it on it’s back, mouth parting in surprise at the silk lacing, undone and trailing down the dress, waiting to be tied and admired. Realising that we’re you to wear this, the entire ball would see your back half-exposed. Even the man you’re to be escorted with.

The thought alone made your insides sing. 

Chris had ordered this dress. He knew what he was acquiring for you, what he asked you to dare. 

Well, you were happy to oblige. Something within you wished to see his eyes blaze at you in the gown.

Closing the curtains of your room, you quickly lit up a metallic lamp, orange light leaking onto your dresser and walls.  Setting the source upon a stool, you began shedding your coat, tossing it on the bed before going to the dresser.

You spent about ten minutes on your hair, lifting locks upward and curling them into a messy bun. You brought out clips of pearls, attaching them at the back of your hair, letting the few stray curls bounce along your ears and neck.

After finishing your hair you began shedding your clothing, excitement rushing in your gut at the thought of wearing the ballgown. When you were adorned in nothing but your underthings, you grabbed onto the arms of the new dress, entering one leg into the opening before sliding the other. You raised the gown, fitting the bodice upon yourself and the short sleeves cuffing just under your shoulders. 

Looking over your shoulder at the back, it was bare before the mirror, saving your rear only with a small dip which was edged with more black lace. The laces for tightening the back still hung uselessly, begging to be entangled with their partners.

And you tried to oblige. You truly did, straining your hands behind your back and trying your hardest to tie the laces with the opposites, of creating a pattern adequate enough for the ball and announce your preparation. Unfortunately for you, your fingers refused to assist you that moment in the evening. 

Letting out an irritated sigh, you called for your friends.

“Jisung!” you shouted, hands endeavouring still. “Changbin!”

Your back still to the door, you waited for the two fools to arrive, but no one came. Again, you called their names, but to no avail, only silence answering you.

“I swear to the Lord,” you muttered, arms now starting to hurt from the stretching. You were about to bring the warehouse down with your roar when you heard the door quietly creak open, the sound of boots emitting against the floor. 

“Ah, finally,” you began as you turned around, hands clutching the bodice of the dress, ready to be irritated by your comrades when all words abandoned your tongue.

There, standing by the door, in all his midnight-tainted glory, was Chris Bang.

You hated how your eyes widened at the sight of him. 

The man always took care of his appearance, but that evening he had truly outdone himself - His infamous woollen longcoat was hung over his arm, exposing his black tailcoat, shining slightly in the flickering lamp light. His waistcoat underneath fit snug, and his white cravat tie peaked just above the lapels, caressing his Adam’s apple. His raven locks were slicked back, a few stray flyaways drooping over his forehead. The gloves were worn still, skin never exposed.

You caught his eyes flicker, something within stirring at seeing you, holding onto your dress in case it fell to the floor. The prolonging silence was shattered when you forced yourself to speak.

“Chris,” you said, because his name was the first thing, the only thing you could comprehend.

He, too, inhaled, slowly. “Jisung and Changbin...they’re outside, so they could not hear.”

“Oh.” 

Another round of silence. God, you wished you could just say something to him, anything which wasn’t a single syllable—

“____.”

You snapped into focus. “Yes?”

“Why did you call them?”

Blinking, you stumbled, “I, I just needed help with…” your hand gestured to your back. “...with the laces.”

There was an indecipherable undertone in his next words. “You could have called me.”

“You’re here now.”

Again. The world-heavy pause upon the both of you. 

A few more seconds ticked by when Chris set his coat upon the dresser chair. His eyes never left yours.

“Turn around.”

You dragged your gaze away from his as you complied, baring your back before him, laces dangling. His footsteps sounded from behind you, and his presence was felt, large and magnetic.

Leather sliding from skin, you sensed his eyes on you, taking in your illuminated skin. You had the greatest urge to shiver, but suppressed it, waiting for his next move.

A small breath hitched in your throat when Chris grabbed onto the first pair of laces and tugged them back, pulling you to him. 

Almost too conveniently, your rear backed against his crotch, and a minute noise escaped you before putting some distance between you two again. You instantly regretted the action, already missing the mere caress of what lay underneath his trousers.

“Stop fidgeting,____,” he ordered, and you immediately stilled, the tug still adamant at your back. Almost disgraceful how quickly you listened to him.

Slowly, he tied the first bow, right to the small of your back. When he started on the second, though, the first touch of his fingers against your back threw you off guard.

You should have expected this. You should have known from the start of his task that his fingers would graze your skin but each caress was like a lick of fire, threatening to singe the skin. Your breath caught in your throat, each time Chris touched you.

Those damned fingers skirted upwards, tying up the laces with such delicacy it nearly softened your stance, if only you didn’t notice his growing warmth. You realised with no small amount of pleasure that he, too, was possibly flustered.

Christopher Bang. Flustered over a girl.

You almost gasped when his hands brought a few stray curls over your shoulder, the dip of your neck exposed as he began the final bow of your gown. The process was excruciatingly slow, each little caress enough for you to turn around and—

And what?

How you desperately wanted to find out. 

Sensing the ribbon curling upon your neck, you understood. 

“It is done,” he whispered, and you shifted at the sigh which kissed your skin. God, he was so close, you were scared that if you turned around his lips—

You did not need to worry when you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, whirling you around in a sudden fashion. Your eyes widened at the close proximity of his face, his beautiful fucking face, and the warm, slender hands on your naked shoulders.

“Chan,” you let yourself say, and you swore the criminal’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened.

Perhaps he would have closed the distance, saved you from desperation when someone knocked on the goddamn door.

“___?!”

“Hurry up, the carriage is waiting!”

“Women, honestly—!”

You yelped at the sound of your friends bellowing behind the door. Even Chris looked a little surprised, a slight tick in his jaw as the noise grew louder.

Grabbing onto your skirts, you thundered towards the door, furrowing your brows as you twisted the knob, opening to see the same two idiots, shooting you irritated glares. 

“Is Miss Fancy-Shmancy finally ready?” Changbin drawled, propping a hand upon his hip, tails of his coat dangling behind him.

“Madame certainly took her time,” Jisung went on, sauntering into your bedroom without a care. “Might as well not attend the ball at all—”

His incessant rambling was instantly ceased when he saw Chris standing before you, putting on his gloves. His face was impassive as ever, save for the jaw still tightened.

“Oh, Chris,” he said, and started backing away to the door. “The carriage is outside.”

“Let us go, then,” he only replied as he grabbed his longcoat, strolling out of your bedroom, leaving your skin tingling and heart confused.

Changbin watched Chris exit the building, turning to you with a raised brow. “What was the Mr. Thorns-up-his-arse doing in your room?”

You scoffed at the nickname, picking up the invitations from the dresser. “He was just helping me.”

Jisung’s lips curved into a smirk. “Helping you…?”

“Stop it!” You demanded, but both of the boys could see the blush on your cheeks, even from the dim lamp light. 

“Come on, now,____,” Changbin said, holding out an arm, and hitting Jisung’s arm to do the same. “Let us follow Chris before he shouts at us for keeping you here.”

“Don’t say such things,” you cooed, looping your arms with the two boys. “He will kill you outright instead.”

Laughter emitted from the two, leading you out of the room, down the halls and soon the building.

The carriage was waiting at the entrance of the dock, horses neighing softly at your arrival. Jisung opened the carriage door, letting you climb inside. Chris, inside already, held out a hand, you taking it as he had you sit beside him. His hard figure brushed against your shoulders, reminding you of his fingers on your back not too long ago.

Just like that, you slumped against the seating. That man was truly going to be the death of you.

When the two boys scrambled inside, Chris’ hand thudded against the roof, indicating it to start riding. The carriage obliged to his command. 

The small, interwoven streets widened as the carriage rode upon the main roads, going faster with each signal of Chris’ hand. The inside was alive with Jisung gloating shamelessly over his checkered waistcoat, with Changbin giving reassurances for his “ugly face ruining the clothing.” You laughed at every jab the two threw at each other, but would tense at the erratic touches Chris’ knee would send with every shake of the vehicle. Although the many layers of skirts cushioned these brushes, the blood rushing to your cheeks was evidence enough - everything he did made you so unhinged.

Soon, the big roads led from filthy, back-to-back housing to larger homes, the further the dirty central city strayed from you. A few touches of countryside teased your view when you saw mansions, estates the size of neighbourhoods gracing the surroundings. The carriage began to slow down, as more people adorned in fine attire entered your window view, no doubt going to the same destination as the gang.

The most illuminated estate welcomed you as the carriage stopped right before its vast, colourful gardens, smattering of couples taking intimate walks along the hedges. Chris, noticing the destination, opened the door, Changbin following suit. As the former got out he held out his hand to you. Surprised by his sudden manners, you took his hand, stepping down from the carriage, careful of your skirts as they brushed against the pavement. Jisung and Changbin were right beside you, uttering the driver to come back within a couple of hours.

“Now,” Chris began, bringing your hand to his arm. “You both stay behind me and ____. You wouldn’t need invitations if you both act like our bodyguards.”

“Right behind you, boss,” Jisung chanted, counting his knives inside his coat pockets. Changbin took one of the weapons from him, sliding it up his trouser sleeve, securing it with a leather ankle strap. 

“Right.” the gang all looked at each other, silent understanding passing between all of you.

“Let’s ruffle some rich feathers.”

With your hand still on his arm, the leader of the Sons of Seoul led his gang inside of the massive estate. 

Guards at the entrance shot you grave looks as they stopped you. “Invitations,” they said. You obliged, bringing out the golden paper. They looked over, convinced, and gave them back to you.

You and Chris were about to enter when Jisung and Changbin were stopped behind you. “Protection,” Chris said, but the guards were unconvinced. 

“They need invitations too,” was their answer.

Dread, slight yet present, began to fill your stomach. Has the mission failed before it could even begin?

“I suggest you let them in, too,” Chris only said, black eyes piercing the two men with a glare. “Or my friend hosting this party will hear of this inconvenience.”

That seemed to stir the guards, for they said nothing more, letting your friends enter the estate. Jisung and Changbin made sure to smirk at the men before sauntering inside behind you.

Your eyes, upon stepping inside the main hall, were welcomed with paradise. 

Gold. gold upon gold was painted, lined, moulded everywhere, upon the walls, on the floor, on the painted ceiling, hypnotising you with its kaleidoscopic pattern. Swirls of white and silver journeyed along the walls, and the floor bore solid treasures, sculpted into the ground and shining exquisitely from the chandelier lighting. Hundreds of lords and ladies, businessmen and escorts populated the manor, either being moved by the orchestral band, dancing, helping themselves to food from the lines of dishes or simply mingling among others.

It was the chaos of the rich. A place you didn’t quite fit in.

You stole a glance at the man beside you. Even though he looked contained as ever, you felt his arm tightening all over. Perhaps he knew he did not belong in this world either.

The grim understanding was cut off when Changbin’s shrill gulp sounded from behind you.

“Scones!”

The man immediately dashed towards the food section, earning blatant laughter from his friends as Jisung stepped beside Chris. “Once he’s done stuffing himself, we’ll get into positions.” He skirted his eyes over the buzzing crowd. “I have already spotted some of Carter’s men in different corners of the hall, so we can see where they’re going to go.”

“Any signs of Carter?” you asked, already feeling suggestive eyes on your body, the dark red curves of your figure. 

“He’ll show himself soon,” Chris promised, beginning to take a step forward. “The bastard thrives in attention.” He turned to Jisung. “Make yourself scarce.”

He then saw Changbin making himself much too comfortable with the jam scones rapidly declining in his wake. “And for God’s sake, control Changbin.”

Jisung shook his head, mocking a salute before strolling to his friend. You and him were left to your own activities, and soon you felt the tug of his body, leading you further into the hall.

You looked up to see him scouring the room. His brows furrowed slightly, that stiffness felt underneath your fingertips. “Chris,” you called to him, and were answered with an uncertain stare.

“I’m alright,” he said, walking along the lines of the dance floor, looking away when he gave you the false assurance. 

You did not know what was going on. In other missions his composure would never falter — this was what he was so notorious for, being calm despite the anarchy around him. Never before had you seen him so tense.

“Stop it.”

You blinked back into reality. “What?”

“You’re doing it again,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair. “Looking at me that way. Like I’m about to snap.”

A pout formed on your lips, looking up at him underneath your lashes. “I can sense you’re distressed.” You squeezed his arm in comfort. “I cannot help if I worry for you, Chris.” 

With small surprise, you found him soften, only slightly. “I just…” he sighed in exasperation. “I hate parties.”

You understood the connotations. Wealthy parties. The men and women who throw them. 

“And I, too,” you agreed, earning a soft snort from the man. Your heart warmed a little at the sound, and thankfully the tension faded between the two of you, not necessarily from each other but from the socialites around you.

Your heart, however, received no such rest, beating much too loud for your liking. 

The two of you took another turn of the room before a low, arrogant drawl paused you both in your tracks.

“Mr Christopher Bang.”

You and your leader both sighed simultaneously. 

Turning, you tilted your head upwards to none other than ‘Scar’ Carter, smirking ridiculously down at the the two of you. He was something out of a children’s book, the grotesque villains with wanned skin and beady looks, ready to pounce and make you disappear without you ever realising. Although young, he looked to be in his mid-forties, unkept locks and curled moustache, being played by his fingers. 

He held out his other hand, extending the smile to the man beside you. “Always a goddamned blessing to see you.”

Chris assessed his hand for a moment before he let go of your grip on his arm, slipping off his gloves. His own olive coloured hands were roughened, no doubt from years of manual labour. He took Carter’s hand, shaking the greeting in place, and the latter turned his enemy’s hold, looking over at the new image inked upon the hand.

“What is this, Chrissy?” He mused, the nickname causing the said-man’s lips to twitch. “Some flowery poetry?”

Your eyes strayed to what he meant; just under his thumb, where the joint began, was a tattoo, inked deeply in a cursive hand. It was a phrase you had never knew the meaning of, nor had you asked, but the Latin was beautiful on his textured skin.

NON DUCOR DUCO.

“Not poetry, Carter,” he only said, tracing his sole tattoo with a finger. “But something I live by.”

Despite Carter towering over the man, Chris Bang pinned him with a piercing glare. His signature phantom smile appeared on his lips. 

“I am not led. I lead.”

The giant’s shit-eating grin faltered. You could not help but let a small chuckle escape at his reaction. 

And maybe you shouldn’t have shown amusement, because when he focused his animalistic gaze upon you, you had the sudden urge to hold onto the man beside you again.

“Ah, Miss ____,” he jeered, mocking a deep bow which you did not return. “Chris’ little...protégée.”

He then held out his hand to you, and you knew it was not to shake the gnarled fingers. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?”

You scoffed, anger bubbling within your veins. How dare he even ask you, after all the trouble he had caused for the gang? Smirking as if it was all a little game.

Your mouth parted, ready to reject him outright when a warm hand settled on your back. 

Chris’ fingers stroked the exposed skin, skirting over the lacing, and despite the heavenly feeling, you knew what this signal really meant. 

Distraction. This would be the perfect opportunity to divert Carter’s attention while Chris joined in the other’s search. Listening to the instrumental, you realised that would spare them another five minutes.

Reigning in your fury, you offered the bastard a thin-lipped smile before taking his hand, already missing the mere touch of another seconds before.

Carter led you to the dance floor among the other dancers, you hardly radiating the same enthusiasm as the others accompanying you. The man’s other hand, one still holding yours, snaked around your waist, and you hated how it felt against your back, pure distaste staining your features as he tried to impersonate the idle lace curling that Chris did.

As if it physically hurt, you propped a hand upon his shoulder, and when the music began, the game started.

The giant kept ogling at you as the sly grin appeared on his lips. “I must say, I am very envious of Chris.”

You matched his stare. “Of course you would,” you only said, trying your best to sound like your leader, who was an embodiment of calmness. “You can never be the man Chris is.”

“Oh, I did not mean by what he is, my lady,” he corrected. “I meant by what he has.”

He pulled you to him, much to close, and you hissed as the fingers behind you played on your back. “He is much too lucky to possess a creature like you, Miss ____.”

Good God. If he endeavoured to make you as uncomfortable as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You regretted ever listening to Chris, but for the plan, you will do what is necessary.

As if on cue, you felt dark, piercing eyes on you. By the little hairs which stood at the back of your neck, there was no doubt who watched over you, murmuring progress with Jisung as he sipped wine on a tightly held flute. 

“Tell me, sweet,” he began once more, making you lose your thoughts, turning about the room as the music went on. “Why do you work for a man like him?”

You sighed at the question. Truly this man did not know how to initiate small talk. “Why is that any of your concern?”

“Because I’ve seen you in action,” he answered, and you could not mistake the awe that threatened to expose in his voice. “You have incredible potential, my lady, and it pains me that Chris does not use you properly. You waste your efforts in a silly gang.”

His condescending speech made you dig his nails in his hand. “Careful, Carter,” you seethed, watching his face crumple in pain from your action. “The silly gang you speak of will not hesitate to obliterate your entire organisation. And neither will I.”

Rage flashed in his eyes as he grinned at your claim. “I doubt the esteemed Christopher Bang would even let you participate,” he drawled, grazing his fingers against your back. “You being his whore is enough for him.”

You parted your mouth in slight shock. The reaction quickly evaporated with pure, unadulterated fury. A lot of people speculate your true relationship with Chris, but your own demeaning always struck deep. How dare people think that you only have the power you have because you slept with the greatest criminal in the city? 

With your head raging, you sent your low heel down upon Carter’s boot, a yelp escaping the man as his dancing faltered, grip on you loosening. Fortunately for you, the orchestra smoothed their music to a close, and small applause rang around the room, you joining as you smiled at Carter’s slight groaning.

When the giant looked at you again, all his arrogance was gone, instead a face of wrath. “You bitch-”

You were sure he was going to strike, despite hundreds in the ballroom. Even your smug demeanour dampened when you saw his bear-like hand raise when its journey was paused.

Ceased completely as Chris’ hand wrapped around Carter’s wrists.

Your leader’s smile was sharp, like a decorated dagger. “Are you already creating a scene, just when you finished the first dance?”

Carter, dumbfounded by his enemy’s sudden presence, waved off the foreign grip on his hand. “You are never going to find the documents,” he crowed, glaring at the two of you.

Chris, the magnificent bastard, only kept his magnetic smirk as he took your hand, enveloping his fingers with yours. “We shall see about that,” he promised, and dipped his head in adieu, turning on his heel and taking you with him. 

You felt your heart flutter when his grip on you stayed, even when Carter stomped off into the crowd. “Bastard,” you hissed. A hum of agreement followed. 

Soon, music began to play a sensual tune, and you looked to the couples joining in the main circle of the floor. You made to leave that area when you felt the man refused to be led. 

You looked back, noticing an uncertain emotion swirling in his eyes. “The dance is about to begin.”

“So?” he merely said, hands still clasping yours. The people around you began to take positions. 

“Chris,” you got out. “You do not dance.”

A small smile enveloped his mouth at the claim. He answered in wrapping a hand around you, making you suck in a breath. You caught sight of the tattoo inked on his skin as he raised his hold on. NON DUCOR DUCO.

I am not led. I lead.

“You’re right,” he admitted. As the first tune of the violin settled in the ballroom, the man took a step. “But I let it slide on special occasions.”

You did not reply, only staring at him as you happily let him turn you about the dance floor.

Your assumptions were correct - Chris Bang was a wonderful dancer. The man already possessed a natural smoothness in his usual movement, but the way he led you across the room gave fluidity another meaning entirely. His hand on your back was an anchor to reality, keeping you from dreaming away in the skies above, and his fingers, interlocked with yours, were a silent promise that he was never letting you go. 

You were so caught up in your fantasies that you did not hear what Chris said until he called your name. 

“____.”

You perked up, raising your brows. “Yes?

“Did Carter say anything to you?” His fingers on your exposed skin began to caress you, and it took a lot within you to stay calm. “You were seething while you both danced.”

Oh, so he was watching you. The information didn’t help your nerves. “He was being his usual, charming self,” you drawled, careful of your feet. 

He paused a bit at your unhelpful answer. “I see,” he got out, index curling with the ribbon of your back. You let out a shuddered breath, not going unnoticed by the man. 

You changed the subject, focusing on the mission. “Are Jisung and Changbin still searching for the documents?”

Chris, on the note, twirled you delicately, and brought you back into his arms. “They have discovered the hideout, and have taken down half the men,” he informed, and you sighed in relief. “They’ll find what we’re looking for soon.”

“I hope so, too,” you murmured, listening to the music ascend in its pitch. 

So much finery radiated in this room. As your eyes drifted to the surroundings once more, you became slightly envious of the family fortunate enough to reside in this estate, and drink in the liquid gold splattered everywhere in the vast hall. Complaints were heard from a rather nasty woman, who screamed at a young servant for spilling wine on her oh so expensive dress, and the jewellery which glittered upon necks and ears. 

This. you hated this. Despised the wealth which accumulated in this ball, this entire neighbourhood. Not months ago you were about to die from the lack of food in your stomach. No doubt these people simply relished another one of these many balls, occurring every season.

It was the only reason the Sons of Seoul existed in the first place. To battle the ranks of the rich, and establish a sense of justice which had long faded from London.

Perhaps Chris sensed your growing disgust at the environment, for he sighed. “I hate these people.”

You nearly smiled at how similar you both think.

His touches still had you nearing closer to him as he continued, “I hate how everyone here can simply enjoy themselves without a care in the world. I hate the Mayor for letting this chaos happen as he sits back on his arse, corruption spiking under his office.”

His anger grew. “I hate that pig-headed prick Carter and all the trouble he’s brought me. I hate that he stole those documents and constantly fucks with me as if we two had not crawled out of the same hellhole.

“And God,” he snapped, pure venom now lacing his tongue, “I hate how he was touching you as if you were no one but his.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

He groaned out in frustration, fingers tightening on your hand. “I hate how Jisung and Changbin walked in on us this evening. Despise that the moment I was about to close the distance they burst through the door, leaving me helpless. And I hate feeling helpless.”

You did not know what to say, what words to comfort him with. Not when you were thinking the exact same thing, and felt the exact same agitation, particularly at your core.

The man leaned in, eyes heavy lidded. “You know what I hate the most, ____?”

Gulping, you let out a little, “What?” afraid of what he was going to reveal.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip, fingers continuing their teasing.

“I-” he seethed, gripping your back tightly. “Fuck, I hate how ravishing you look in that dress.”

You parted your mouth in shock, blushing the colour of roses. “Why do you hate that?” you only asked, breath almost lost in your lungs as your blood began to thrum beneath your skin.

His eyes lost all dreamy light when a small curve enveloped his lips. “Because, my dear ____,” he muttered hoarsely, each breath ragged, “It makes me think of all the things I want to do to you.”

The strong hand on his back was felt much more, fingers playing with the laces of your dress. You nearly cried out in front of a hundred people over their idle play, and his bold, bold statement.

Chris relished in your whimpering reaction. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he whispered, leaning in till his mouth hovered near your ear. “Do you not want to know what I wish to do to you?”

“What,” you rasped out, grip tightening over his neck. “What are you going to do?”

His husky chuckling nearly sent you over the edge. “I’ll find a nice little space, away from Carter and all these people,” he began, breath caressing your skin. “Then I’ll kiss you slowly, like so.” he pressed a chaste kiss underneath your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “These hands of mine will roam all over, but they will gladly trail up your legs, ____.

“And God, when my hands stop at your sopping cunt, I’ll make it cry with my fingers.” He drummed his fingers on your back. “One.” Tap. “Two.” Tap. “Three of them.” Tap. “Perhaps you’d like more.”

You whined into his shoulder, feet stumbling as you clung onto him tighter. “M-more,” you pleaded quietly, so careful to keep dancing, move along to the music. 

“Of course you would,” he only cooed in your ear, and you were scared you would collapse over his words. “Luckily for you, I wouldn’t be finished with you either.”

Your hand, clasped in his his, squeezed at his words. “Chris, please—”

“Yes, just like that,” the man mused, whirling you on the dance floor. “Just like that, you’ll beg me to send you over the edge, but I won’t let you be satisfied so easily.” 

On God and all his subjects, if he did not cease his filth you were going to come onto the floor by his mere words. You could tell Chris noticed, almost reading your mind as the ghost of a smirk widened. “Already afraid, love?”

Love. 

Dear, fucking God.

“You see, ____,” he muttered, leading you to the final round of the song, the steps of the dance going faster. “I won’t let you be satiated with just my fingers.”

And as he broke his hold on you, twirling you with his tattooed hand, he pulled you to him, one last time, crushing you against his granite chest. 

His eyes bore into yours when the last string of the violin wailed around the hall. All you could see was pure, unadulterated desire.

“I will have you writhing with my cock.”

Your eyes never left Chris’ as the music finally came to a close, gaze blurring at the dark promise. Applause scattered around the ballroom, yet your hands stayed upon his arm, the other enveloped in his.

You caught the words once more under his thumb. NON DUCOR DUCO.

Indeed you do.

“Chris,” you breathed out, waiting for him to let you go. He did no such thing.

Feeling a few suspicious eyes on you, your feet backed away from the man, hands escaping the feeling he emitted underneath your touch. 

A whine threatened to escape you when you saw his desire had not dampened. His hands shook, only slightly, and your stomach erupted into a million butterflies, journeying lower and lower. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly you feared you would faint on the dance floor. 

Excusing yourself, you hastened your footsteps, sending a few smiles to passerbys as you picked up a flute of champagne, hurrying down long hallways, catching a few couples leaning towards each other. When you found a grand wooden cabinet beside another door, no doubt a guest room, you slumped next to it, breathing loud and ragged, too affected by a certain man’s eyes and the hidden intentions underneath. You drank the entire champagne in one gulp, propping the flute on a servant’s tray as he rushed by.

“____!”

Gasping, you turned to the source of the voice. The voice which filled you with such unexplainable hunger you had to clench your thighs as it drew nearer.

Footsteps thudded against the carpet, and you squirmed at the sight of Chris Bang, storming towards you with a ferocity which had your knees near buckling.

“Where,” he began, voice an octave lower as he stood not a foot from you, smacking his hands against the wall, caging you with his presence. “Were you trying to lead me?”

“Somewhere where they cannot see us,” you responded, excitement clear in your voice. The ballroom chatter was still within your range, so technically, anyone could wonder down these halls, look over the cabinet and catch you both. 

The throbbing inside you didn’t particularly care. 

“And what do you want me to do,____,” he murmured, and his voice was glazed with pure lust,  “Which the world cannot see?”

“I…” slight shame tried to course through your body but the overflowing desire was too strong. Not when your tongue was not afraid to voice what was in your heart the moment you first saw him. “I want you to do all those things you said. I want you to ruin me.”

And perhaps that was all he needed, when Christopher Bang pressed his lips against yours and answered your prayers.

He was instantly rewarded with your surprised whine, drowned out by the movement of his mouth as his hands left the wall, holding onto your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks as he led the fiery kiss, opening your mouth to let the little noises escape.

“Chris,” you tried to rasp out, but his lips refused once more as he tilted your head, gaining full access and truly discovering the sheer pleasure oozing from the swell of your lips. God, he had gone through every experience which gave him a sense of thrill, but the kiss he shared with you brought him a new, foreign high — as if he tried the drugs he had seen on the streets for the first time, and becoming addicted on the first dose. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air as the two of you shared a carnal gaze, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm. Chris was ruthless, only sparing you for a few seconds before pouncing back in on your mouth, this time tongue playing along, asking to be let inside and slide along the inner workings. You would have been a fool to refuse him.

The moment you opened your lips for him his tongue slithered inside, sliding it along the roof of your mouth, while his hands left your face and instead gripped onto your waist, driving you further against the wall, snuffing out any distance which dared come between you and him.

A slightly moan bubbled within your throat when he began to roughen your lips, capturing your tongue before closing the seam of your mouth within his own, repeating the action until you didn’t know whether you were sane or absolutely fucking crazy.

You were sure straight after when one of his hands began sliding down. Down. He hurriedly broke the kiss, letting out an angry groan at the never ending skirts which met with his fingers. “Fuck this dress,” he cursed as he descended a little, peppering kisses upon the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck, trailing until he found the hem of your skirts.

Bunching them up with his one hand, he lifted the fabric, baring your legs to the dimmed chandelier light from the main hall. His hand trailed right up to your core, a single layer hiding it from Chris’ fingers. The poor, soaked fabric could not ever compete, when the criminal, with a single finger as he scattered kisses upon your face, hooked under the lacey underwear, sliding it down your thighs. So much desperation lurked he did not even bother to slide it down to your ankles,  a chuckle rasping out of him as his fingers skimmed your upper thighs to find them dripping with the suppressed arousal.

“My poor, poor, darling,” he whispered in a menacing tone, the other hand caressing your face, “Couldn’t contain yourself for me?”

“Ch-chan,” you heard yourself say, because at this point your soul was not present, probably lurking in seventh heaven where this man was taking you. 

Hearing his name on your slurred mouth only had him plunging the first finger inside you. 

You let out an obscenely loud moan, which was immediately followed by hushing. “Don’t make a sound,” he demanded, smiling slyly at your whimpering, “Or else I stop. Understand?”

You could not nod fast enough, and he huffed out a laugh before sliding the second finger in, rubbing against your slit, drawing circles upon your throbbing skin, testing the rather sticky waters of you and your fucked out state. 

Satisfied, he delved the two fingers in deeper, pulsating against your walls until they hit a certain spot which had you crying out in pleasure. Chris’ heavy lidded warning flashed in his eyes.

You nearly cried when he began to slide his fingers out over your moaning, your hand immediately stopping him from pulling out further. “Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, pleaded like the whores you heard on the docks, but you didn’t care, did not give a single fuck when those fingers needed to be inside you again. “Chan, please, I’m sorry—”

“One more fuck up, ____, and these—” his fingers plunged back into you once more, hitching you upwards with the sheer force, “—will be back out.”

Nodding hastily, you left your hand on his wrist. Chris continued to work so deliciously inside you that it took every ounce of strength left in you not to bring the manor down with your moaning. The whimpering could not be contained, but the criminal let that slide, finding great contentment every time you begged for more.

He curled his slender fingers, acquainting himself with that same bloody spot which had you seeing stars. Your hands gripped onto his neck for stability, nails digging into his shirt. How you wanted it off, along with all the damned layers he adorned.

The way he played with your sweet spot had you feeling heavy, a pleasured ball of pain forming at your lower back. You knew you were being led to an edge, an edge you could not, did not want to escape, and when you pulled away from Chris, looking into his eyes, he instantly understood.

“Oh my, love,” he simpered, his free hand thumbing your cheek. “Does someone want to get fucked against the wall? When I’m not even finished with them yet?”

Tears lined your eyes, cunt throbbing almost painfully around his fingers. “Chan, I’m going to—ah!” you cut off, closing your eyes as you barely held on to your last grips of sanity. “Chan.”

Your weakened, fucked out demeanour had the most dangerous man in London fearing for his own senses. He wished nothing more than you screaming his name for the whole city to hear, and with you, looking at him like that…

Oh, he was definitely going to drive you over the edge.

Christopher Bang nearly carried out his promise when a shrill call interrupted you two. 

“CHRIS! ____!”

“WHERE ARE YOU—?”

Your lust-glazed stare cracked as you blinked. “Chan,” you said his name, but the man let out an enraged roar. You felt the hollow emptiness when those golden fingers were pulled out of you, sticky residue coating his skin. The footsteps grew closer, the volume of the shouting increasing. 

Chris brought out a white handkerchief, cleaning your mess on his fingers rather aggressively. “I’m going to fucking kill them,” he guttered out, making your legs tremble. To your utmost misery you felt the orgasm, so close before, fading from existence, and you made a silent vow to break Jisung and Changbin’s legs the moment all of this was over.

Speaking of the Devil, the two hastened, opening all doors and closing them till the two stumbled upon the both of you, infuriated and worryingly turned on.

Changbin looked at the deflated expression on both of yours faces. “Chris? ____?” His eyes narrowed, trying to work out the reasons for the slight electric atmosphere he suddenly entered in. “Are you both...alright?”

“Perfectly,” the man answered in a ragged hiss, sliding on his gloves again, smoothing over his raven locks. “Now why the fuck are you both here?”

The two boys did not understand their leader’s anger. Choosing to let the snipe slide, Jisung said, “We’ve caught Carter.”

That seemed to send you and Chris back in reality. Well, not really, when your core still throbbed, the pleasure fading with each passing second.

“Where is he?” Chris flattened out his coat. “Where are the documents?”

Changbin brought out a small file from inside his waistcoat, holding it out for the former. “Right here.”

Chris took the file, skimming through the contents. His previously angered expression relaxed, just a fraction, and he held onto it as he set his powerful gaze on you all. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The four of you managed to slip away easily, you trying your hardest to fix yourself after the whole fiasco in the hallway. Your heart was still running a mile per minute, refusing to calm as your mind relived the events. The original carriage which you all arrived in was now accompanied with another one, with a dark figure hunched over from the window’s view.

“We threw the giant fucker in another carriage,” Changbin said, laughing as he recalled the takedown with Jisung. “Man could not believe he was failing!”

Chris ignored his story, turning to you all as he stood before Carter’s carriage. “You three, take the free one,” he ordered, his eyes rooted on you. “I will journey home with him.”

“But Chris,” you began, taking a step towards him, “Let me come with you.”

You caught a glimpse of the desire which swirled in his eyes, not long ago, and perhaps that was why he held your arm in his now gloved hand. 

“Go,” he only said. “I have a few things to say to him alone.”

After letting you go, nodding at the boys behind you, Chris Bang stepped inside the first carriage, slamming the door shut. The metal wheels screeched as the whole thing began to move, accelerating away.

You watched the carriage fade from view, Jisung and Changbin stepping beside you.

“What happened, ____?” the former asked, the other trying to comfort you with his gaze. 

Silence was their only answer, as you turned on your heel, climbing inside your designated ride and watched the stars twinkle from the window.

The two members of the gang really tried their best.

As you all journeyed home without your leader, the pair told their tale of how they took down Carter and his men, Jisung adding exaggerated gasps as Changbin demonstrated each kill he thrust upon his victims. You offered them a few laughs, giving them your attention, but really your mind was somewhere else, specifically a midnight-tainted criminal who nearly brought you your undoing.

You were insane. Insane as you thought of him, insane as you remembered how wonderfully he had you writhing over him, just by his fingers. The mindless pondering alone had your cunt pulsating, and you deserved an award for how unaffected you acted with your friends. 

Soon, the carriage slowed to a stop, and you perked up, not realising you had already arrived home. 

You waited for the boys to exit before you stepped out of the carriage, the only light on the docks emitting from lamps and the night sky, reflected on the surface of the river. The first carriage was already there when your feet met the concrete floor, and when you turned to the man who reigned in your mind he had his signature expression, an aloof distaste as he walked over to his gang. 

“Jisung, Changbin,” he called, and the boys responded. “Lock the carriage door,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards his transport. “We will bring him out in the morning.”

“Chris, should we not throw him in the cellar?” Changbin glared at Carter’s direction. “Bastard might escape.”

He only slid his hands in his pockets, you catching the dried blood on his gloves. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” he said, striking a step towards the building. “He’s not going to disturb us tonight. I can promise you that.”

Jisung cursed low along with you, only watching the man walk back to the bedrooms. Bidding goodnight to your friends, you followed Chris’ trail, opening the door and stepping inside the hallway.

You saw him before his bedroom door, bringing out a rusted key. His eyes slid to you as your feet brought you to your entrance. You looked back, waiting as Chris unlocked his room and began to enter.

He turned back, something dark and twisted still lurking in his eyes.

You waited, so patiently at the words you wished to hear, of him finally ruining you.

Instead, you received something else entirely.

“Goodnight, ____.”

And closed the door behind him.

Your heart dropped. 

Fell to the floor, and shattered under the criminal’s bloodied boots. 

The light of the hallway flickered as you stood rooted to the doorway, eyes staring at Chris’ door as if looking at it hard enough would get him to change his mind.

What did you know. The man is not led by exterior forces. Only by his own will.

When you gathered up the strength to the slam the door shut, you slumped against the wood, hating yourself for the tears which threatened to break the lines of your eyes. This was pathetic — utterly disgusting that you were about to cry over his decision.

But you could not help it. You were so enraptured by him. Hell, you were ready to throw yourself in the fires of damnation for him, as he whispered filth all the while rutting against you. Why had that suddenly changed?

“Argh!” You screamed, stomping over to the lamp, light now long extinguished. You relit it’s spark, illuminating the room once more, and set it on the stool before recklessly plucking out the pearls in your hair, a few tears daring to trail down your cheeks. 

Fuck him. Fuck him for making you so rattled. Fuck him for having that effect on you.

You looked into your mirror and cursing yourself for the disheveled appearance. Again, the consequences for letting yourself fall for him.

“To hell with you Bang Chan,” you cursed. 

You were about to untie your dress when your bedroom door was nearly ripped off its hinges. 

Flinching, you grabbed the dagger on your dresser, raised to cut down whoever stupid enough to barge in on an assassin at midnight.

You were met with Christopher Bang. 

And the disorder he brought with him.

Chaos reigned in his figure; his tousled locks, his star-struck expression, his rolled-up sleeves and his pandemonic eyes, all working together and against each other to create the man you had never seen in your life. 

Good God. What had happened to him?

“Chan?” You got out, dagger now brought down. He said not a single word in response as he slammed the door shut, hard enough for the entirety of London to hear. 

Instead, he imprisoned you with his stare, almost giving you his chaos. The chaos you had always shared with him since the moment he picked you off the streets.

No, he said not one word — only took the steps needed to march towards you. You could only watch with widening eyes when he grabbed your face in his rugged hands and collided his lips against yours. 

You did not even hesitate to comply, hands grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him as close as you possibly could, so afraid that he would disappear from your grip if you dared let go. With the way he moved his mouth along yours, however, already opening up the familiar workings, you had a feeling he was not going to abandon you now.

When he broke away, breathing already erratic, his hands slid down to your neck, thumbs caressing the length of your throat. “I couldn’t,” he started, and he was sprinkling kisses all over your face. “I couldn’t leave.”

“I was scared, Chan,” you confessed, fisting the material harder. “I thought you truly did.”

His eyes focused on you. Within the turmoil, there was a promise. “Never,” he whispered, leaning in. “Never again.”

And suddenly his lips were on you, and the desperation was so rooted he nearly stole the very breath from your lungs. The sheer intensity, the longing implied broke your heart to the point you attached yourself to him, wrapping your arms around him and refusing to ever let him go.

The rather soft kiss began to heat up, as Chris broke the seam of your lips, swirling your tongue in his, already receiving incoherent praise from deep down your throat, making the man smile against his lips as he continued. 

His hands slid further down, right to the small of your back, where he began to untie all the little bows he created for you at the dawn of the evening, the little touches of fire singeing you still. It was fascinating how effortlessly he loosened all the laces, fingers sliding through the patterns until one by one they fluttered down, until the dark red dress slackened around your chest. 

A small gasp escaped you as Chris, while creating a trail of kisses down your jaw, right down to your neck, grabs the dress from your sides, hitching it down until it falls to the floor. Leaving you practically naked save for the scraps covering your dangerously soiled underwear. 

Chris paused from his ravishing, taking a much too long look at your skin, glowing from the lamp light, and before he could stare any longer you brought your arms to your chest, suddenly becoming a little too embarassed to let him see you at your most vulnerable. 

The supposedly unfeeling criminal, however, nearly broke into a smile at your flustered nature, and grabbed onto your wrists, opening the lock to your breasts, peaked by his actions, and the thought of what was to come.

The soiled underwear was about to drip at this point.

“You’re exquisite,” was all he said, making you almost burst into tears at the praise. You pressed a long, heart shattering kiss upon his mouth, and he responded perfectly, hands sliding to your naked waist, each drum of his fingers like a tug towards a dangerous edge. 

Things began to take a turn, open mouthed kisses being plastered on the skin of your throat as the man pushed you back, further and further until the back of your knees hit the bed, stopping you in his tracks. His grip on your waist directed downwards, planting you on the mattress as his mouth descended to your collarbone, down and down until he licked your peaked nipple in a way that had you moaning obscenely loud. His husky chuckle resonated along your skin, still not pausing his trail until he hit the end of the dip of your cunt, barricaded by the fabric. 

The moment he looked up at you, that alone made you nearly undo yourself. By the increasing volume of your breathing, Chris seemed to realise so too.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he got out, watching you whimper at each touch caressing your hips. “Already about to come when I haven’t even done anything?”

“Ch-Chan,” you pleaded, wishing for those damned fingers of his to plunge inside of you. The son of a bitch was taking his time, making you wait knowing it pained you to stay like this. “Chan—”

His name on your tongue had him gritting his teeth, hands on each of your side grabbing onto your lace, and sliding your underwear down, all the way till it fell free from your legs and threw it across the room, forgotten when Chris parted his mouth at the moistened treasure between your legs. 

Those roughened hands steeled their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer till you sat right on the edge of the bed, cunt mere inches from his face. You could not even comprehend the insanity of this situation, that the hidden fantasies you dreamed of shamelessly were morphing into reality right before your eyes.

“So, so pretty,” he murmured, blowing a little air on your slick folds, earning himself a sucked in breath from his truly. “So pretty and wet, and all because of me.”

You let out a ragged breath, words of filth sounding so foreign on his tongue. It was not like he didn’t talk like the sailors living near you on the docks, but these dirty words and dirtier intentions, now all directed at you, made you feel so flustered, in a wondrous way you could not possibly describe. All you wanted was for him to keep singing this filth till you blacked out.

Chris, with the force of his hands, spread your thighs a little wider, and without warning broke his tongue from the seam of his lips, planting it upon your slit and moving it slowly over the surface.

That alone made you cry out in ecstasy.

But that was only a test, a taking on of foreign surroundings before truly welcoming himself, and by God, did he welcome himself in as more than a guest, when that tongue slid deeper and performed strokes which had you seeing all the stars in the universe. 

What was first slow teasing then became a starved hunt, tongue relishing in the sweet arousal you emitted, lapping it up brazenly as if he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time. Your blubbering grew louder with every lick, fisting the sheets behind you with such ferocity you were sure they’d tear. 

And if that wasn’t painstakingly enough, the man spread your legs a little wider, his tattooed hand, two fingers out, sliding straight inside you, making you mewl at the way they tightened they walls they journeyed in. Curling, just like they did earlier in the evening, they took their time finding the certain little spot which had you bringing the house down with your cries. 

“Ch-Chan, please, please, I’m going to—AH!” You rasped out, when the said-criminal found the sweet little undoing of yours and stroked your fingers along the sensitive spot, making that bundle of pleasure resonating in your back appear once more, like a low throbbing begging to be released.

His tongue had not given you any breaks, still working ruthlessly along your clit and you cried for him to give you that sweet release, to just let you come but he had not let you be satisfied this easily. No, he wanted you writhing underneath him, wanted the final ruination to be from underneath his trousers, angered as it outlined against his leather.

You craned your head back, screaming out his name because you knew all else had abandoned you. “Chan!” Looking down, his mouth very much occupied with your cunt. Your orgasm was reaching, was on the very edge, and if he kept working on you like this he was on his way to taste the consequences of his actions.

Something about that image made you want it as a reality with a worryingly strong intensity. 

“Chan, I’m going to—” you were about to warn but were interrupted by a squeeze of your thigh, done by yours truly as if he knew. And as if he knew, the two fingers began pumping much faster, harmonising along with his tongue, and the two actions at once, fucking you with that rapidity was so pleasurable that, with the first earth-shattering cry of the night, you were driven over the edge, releasing your orgasm straight into the criminal’s face.

You felt the work of his fingers slow down, along with his tongue, that with one, final lick, he retreated from your cunt, fingers still inside you as they comforted your aching core with slow, soothing strokes. 

When he looked up at you, though, with your residue mostly upon his mouth, scattered on his cheeks, and basically a bit of everywhere, that sight alone nearly caused you to come all over again. 

Perhaps that was his intentions. 

Because when he licked his lips clean of your mess, ever so slowly, as if enjoying your orgasm like a man starved, you instantly saw in his eyes that this night was not over yet. 

“Already so good, so wonderful,” he mused, slipping his fingers out, both hands now resting on your thighs. “Coming so quick even though I had been saving for the last.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but still had the nerve to ask, “The last?”

He raised a groomed brow, and that gesture was so breathtaking, more so when he raised himself slightly, so he knelt eye-level to you. “Don’t act oblivious, love,” he mused, leaving your thighs to your disappointment, but quickly diminishing when his fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping upon, each patch of skin being revealed like a show of your own. “We both know this isn’t how it’s going to end.”

Shivers crawled down your spine, but you only watched as the man finished undoing his shirt, peeling it off of him and throwing it amongst the other clothing. You nearly let spit trail down your chin at the sheer finery of his muscle alone, sharpened at his arms, his chest all the way down to his v-line, which dipped dangerously low. With no small amount of pride, you also noticed the large, angry outline of Chris’ cock, begging to be set free. 

The man caught you blatantly staring, and a shit-eating grin twisted his glistening lips. “You may do the honours if you’re so keen.”

Blushing, you mumbled a shut up, but was captured by Chris’ lips, tasting your own arousal on his tongue, as his grip on you led you further into the bed, while you fumbled on the buttons of his trousers, popping them open one by one when you broke from the kiss, your turn to shower him with more along the veiny expanse of his neck as you pulled his trousers down, tossing them among the pile.

When you saw the slight-stained underwear of his, you felt the familiar throbbing again, so affected by how you affected him. Noticing your apparent pride, he pressed his lips upon you in a searing kiss, peeling off any last scrap of clothing and forgetting that too among the other clothing.

And by God, when Chris Bang’s cock escaped from his underthings your mouth actually watered at the sheer size it bore. Husky laughter resonated in your ears, and you flushed the colour of blood when he caught you staring much too audaciously than he would have imagined. 

“Already fantasising about my cock?” He slurred, the tattooed hand curling stray hairs from your sweat-slick, flushed face. The way you scrunched your nose, clearly flustered by his comment, melted his stone cold heart, as he caressed your cheeks with his fingers. 

You did not answer him, only whispering his name along his skin, waiting and waiting for the man to drive that force home inside you. “Chan,” you murmured, and the name you kept saying like a religious chant, like it was the only word that mattered, was what brought him to grip his cock, directing it against your entrance, the still slick folds which grew more wet every time the tip caressed the sensitive skin. “Chan, please—”

“Please what?” He demanded, demanded because he needed to hear you precisely want you wanted. The words he practically prayed would be on your tongue the moment he kissed you for the first time this evening.

Obliging him was like second nature. “Please fuck me, Chan,” you breathed out, holding onto his shoulders, knowing you were going to need a hell of a good grip for what was about to arrive. “Please, just ruin me with your cock.”

A malicious smile curled upon his lips. “Good, good girl,” he purred, and began the descend which you dreamed of the very first night you realised you were ridiculously attracted to him.

His cock slid inside you, and with a soul-wrenching whine, was perfectly snug as the journey went on, and on, and on, until you were certain you could not take anymore, despite the man retaining a few inches. He was slow at first, making sure you were not going to be pained by this action. Although your nails dug into the granite muscle of his shoulders, you only egged him on. “M-more,” you only said, and he readily obliged, until you felt him all around you in your body, as if he had filled you up to the brim. 

“Ready?” He asked, and when you nodded, he rested his forehead against yours as gently, he began to pull out. 

You nearly whined at the lack of inches filling you up, but then he brought his cock back in, creating this hypnotic rhythm which was so unimaginably ethereal you felt yourself float amongst the clouds. Each thrust out and thrust in was a drive in and out of reality, with Chris Bang holding the tether of your survival, pulling you in and out of his mercy. 

Gradually, he began to fasten, panting as his drove into you with more force, and when the momentum hardened, you felt your soul leave your body. His cock created wonders for you, having you scream in unimaginable pleasure, and driving your nails into his back was not enough, your lewd moaning not enough given to his sheer skill, his pure simplicity in bringing his cock back and front which had you seeing stars. Hell, Christopher Bang showed you undiscovered universes, leading you across galaxies and unfamiliar cosmos, each thrust in a different vision, and when he lifted your leg a little higher for more access, you feared that you would wake the whole docks with your groaning, for this criminal, this heartless criminal provided you with the whole universe with the simple strokes of his cock inside you, and all you could offer him were screams. 

Even your reactions were pure Beethoven to his ears, relishing in your fucked out state as he gave you all he asked, driving you to the edge of the world. You, finally, clashed your lips against his, offering him sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his face and neck, and that alone had him greeting his teeth, knowing his own release was near. You were going to die if he was not given the same pleasure as you, so you reacted with each of his touches, each of his thrusts, him practically pistoning you upon this bed which very much would break. 

“Ch...Chan…” you grated out, eyes blurring, vision completely fucked, “I’m...I-I—”

“I—fuck,” he too got out, for your last love mark painted onto to the curve of his neck nearly had him ruined. “I’m going to come, too, love—”

“Chan!” You whined, because the throbbing was there, and was so close that if the man did not send that last thrust home then it was all for nothing, everything that had ever happened will all be for nothing.

But he listened. The man who did not listen to anyone or anything listened, and pounded his cock so hard in approval that it had you crying out to the cosmos as you finally let go, orgasm spilling out from whatever space the residue could find between his cock. Your own release had Chris groaning louder than he had even done this entire time, praising you unconditionally, until the filth was cut off by a low curse, with his own release barrelling into you, some joining your spilled mess upon the sheets.

Chris let out a shuddering breath, slowly crossing his movement inside you. Carefully, when you stopped digging your nails into his shoulders, he pulled out, reaching for the blanket untouched and bringing it over you and him before collapsing beside you. Both of you breathed as if you had held your oxygen for a thousand years, chests rising unevenly. 

A silence hung over you two, heavy yet not uncomfortable, lingering in your bedroom. Chris sat up a little, using your pillows behind him as comfort as he raked his hair back, sweat-slick all over, much like you. You held the blanket right up to your chest, hair in disarray, much like your heart. The poor organ threatened to collapse at the events.

Sneakily, you caught a glance at the greatest criminal in London, staring off at the distance, mouth set in a concentrated line. He looked dashing even in his post-sex state, the lines of his chest still stark against his sweat. You truly had never seen a man this beautiful in your life. 

He turned his head to you, catching your staring, and when you tried to look away he captured his chin with his fingers, making you meet his fierce stare. Although dark, the lust had satiated, and instead held passive affection. Well, you hoped it did.

“Why do you still look away?” He demanded in a low, tired voice.

You tried to slide your gaze to the lamp, but was too bewitched by his midnight eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Chan,” you answered, feeling the blood rush to your face. 

He cocked his head, damp curls sticking to his face. “You say that as if you are not,” he countered. 

You did not say anything then. Even so, he received your answer. 

“____,” he said in a low tone. The grip on your chin loosened, and the hand went to your cheeks, cupping your face. “You are truly flawless. Don’t make me have to make you believe that.”

A small smile hinted at your lips. “And what if I still don’t?”

His answering smirk sent butterflies tumbling once again. After a moment, as if hesitating, he then snaked his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You were surprised when his one hand fully encircled you, while the other hand, the tattooed hand, rested upon your head, stroking your hair with his slender fingers. You did not pull away, was never going to, only wrapping your arm across his chest. 

It was the first time you had ever seen Christopher Bang hug someone in his life.

“Chan?” You asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you get that tattoo?”

He paused for a minute, never ceasing his fingers intertwined in your locks. After a small sigh, which you felt beneath your own fingertips, he said, “It is simply something I live by. 

“Non ducor duco. No one will lead me, love. Only myself.”

You pondered over the roots of this phrase, of the significance for the man you lay with. 

“Good,” you said after a while. “I wouldn’t want anyone leading you either.”

With that, you gave into the soothing movement of Chris’ fingers, working lazily in your hair. And while you dozed off to sleep, the criminal mastermind of the biggest city in the world pondered some more, specifically over his motto.

NON DUCOR DUCO. A phrase which had stayed true for so long no one could ever change it.

But after tonight, as you slowly dozed off under Chris’ caresses, he wondered whether there isn’t one person he wouldn’t mind being led by. 

And as he stole a soft glance at the specific person beside him, he knew. 

He knew that although he will be led by no man, there is one woman who he would, to his own shock, happily be led for. 

So, with that new, and slightly terrifying revelation, Christopher Bang went to sleep, knowing that someone had fucked with him and gotten away. 

And he was willingly going to let it happen. 

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

octopus hearts || tom holland x reader

a/n: how do my intended blurbs turn out so long! god dammit. this idea popped into my head, so I hope you all like it. as always thank you so much for supporting; liking, reblogging, commenting or messaging me about any of my work. I love interacting with you guys and I plan to try and be more of a presence in general, not just with writing. come chat! hope you’re all well x  word count: 1638 warning: none...I think everything I write is pretty tame summary: it’s about time you and tom extended your little family 

“You do know she’s only young...” “And? What’s your point?” “The point is, you’ve managed to find the biggest toy in this whole place!” Tom turns to you, cradling two sacks of dry food to his chest, muscles straining slightly against his t-shirt. In his free hand was a large fluffy purple octopus - all 8 legs dangling centimetres off the ground. You’re both stood in front of the full aisle of toys, picking out your favourites for your new arrival. “She’ll grow! Plus look at it...she’ll love it.” He holds up the toy until it’s eye level with you, its stitched mouth looking at you almost mockingly. You roll your eyes, smiling at Tom’s pleading face, his bottom lip curling upwards into a pout. “Okay, it is cute. But that’s the last one Tom, we don’t even know if she’ll like them yet.” Tom grinned cheekily, slipping the toy into the growing basket you were holding, planting a sloppy thank you kiss onto your cheek as he did so. You laughed as he fist pumped the air before continuing your way through the aisles. The excitement was building, the whole situation becoming more and more real, as you searched for the necessary items.

//// “No peeking!”

If you could’ve rolled your eyes, you would have. You had been sat in the car for around 15 minutes, with your eyes closed and your hands covering your face.

Tom had finally wrapped his latest film in the US, and you had spent the past three days in-between your classes ‘reuniting’ – neither of you surfacing from your shared bedroom unless you were forced to do so. You had assumed Tom had met up with the boys, gone down to his local or played golf during your class time and were therefore extremely confused as to why he suddenly woke up one morning, bribed you to get dressed and dragged you out of the house, only to beg you to keep your eyes closed as soon as you got into the car.

“I’m not sure I like this surprise Tom, where the hell are we going?”

“We’re almost there, you’re going to love it! I promise.”

You felt the car come to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the tyres.

“Stay here one sec.” You heard Tom’s car door slam shut, and soon enough you felt the cold air as yours opened.

He guided you out of the car, allowing you to use him for balance as you struggled to get your bearings, eyes remaining closed the entire time.

“Okay. You can open them.”

You slowly opened them, blinking confused as you looked at a grey building. you eyed tom from the side, seeing his cheeky grin lighting up his entire face before you turned back to the building. It was then that you noticed the sign.

You were at your local dog rescue shelter.

“Tom…what are we doing here?” You fully turn to face him, eyes widening in both excitement and shock.

“Well we’ve lived together for over a year now and I know we said it wasn’t possible. But with this new film, they’re looking at a franchise and it’s an entirely UK based production, so I’ll be here, and I don’t know – you’re graduating soon, I’ve looked into dog sitters and walkers for during the day. My family can help ou-”

You interrupt him mid-sentence, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders as you pull him towards you, eyes fluttering closed as you kissed him. Your entire stomach erupted into fluttering butterflies at all the thought behind the surprise, at the idea that Tom was genuinely just as excited about adding to your little family as you were.

You push back suddenly, “This is actually happening right now? You’re not messing me around? Because that would be a mean prank…”

“No,” he grins, laughing. You felt his breath tickle your cheek, “it’s all real. Now c’mon, we’re going to be late for our doggy date.”

He tucks you into his side, arm wrapped around you as you head into the building, your stomach doing somersaults the entire time.

////

Your phone buzzed, lighting up next to your laptop. You were in your university library, researching titles of books you needed for your dissertation when a text from Tom popped up:

eta 10 minutes x

You immediately took note of the last couple books on your list, before closing your laptop and stuffing it into your bag. You grabbed the pile of books you’d already collected into your arms before checking them out at the front desk, heading immediately for the nearest train station.

You made it home in record time.

As you unlocked the front door you could hear the pitter patter of tiny feet on the wooden floor. Placing your bag and books on the entry table, you let your keys fall into the bowl alongside Tom��s.

“Hey baby. In here.”

You peeked around the corner into the living room where Tom was lying stretched out on his side in the centre of the room. Holding his head up with his palm, he held up a soft crinkly toy as your new little ball of golden fluff jumped on her hind legs in her attempts to reach it.

“We’re bonding,” he murmured, lifting his head to look up at you, “come join us.”

The little puppy was all legs and floppy ears as she caught her toy and bounced across the room, tripping over it as she tried to hold it up. She paused as you entered, her head tilting dramatically from left to right, her toy immediately laying discarded as she tumbled towards you.

“Hey puppy! Hi Nala.” You kneel down, letting her sniff you to remind herself of who you were, before she wiggled onto her back, paws in the air as you gave her belly rubs. Her white and golden tail thumping on the wooden floorboards.

“Oh my god Tom, I can’t believe she’s here!” He sits up, grinning from ear to ear. He rolls one of the balls next to him and you both watch as Nala bounces after it, attention immediately grabbed. You shuffle towards him, placing yourself in his lap, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Did she cope with the journey okay?”

Tom winds his arms around your stomach, “She was a star. She’s great in the car, didn’t even cry.”

You nod as he begins peppering kisses on your collarbone, as you watch your new puppy continue to explore her new home.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to one of the discarded toys, the giant octopus that was taking up a scary amount of room on the floor. You roll your head towards your boyfriend smirking slightly, “I take it she didn’t like it?”

He whines quietly, huffing, “So she might have run away from it, I think it freaked her out…” you laugh, tangling a hand into his hair as you pull him towards you, before you hear a noise that causes you both to dart your heads up in search of the destructive sound.

“Oh, fantastic so she’s hates my choice in toys, and she’s a cockblock,” Tom mutters as you stifle a giggle, immediately hurrying after your little pup.

////

You were laying on the couch, Tom’s chest pressed to your back. Nala had completely passed out, lying half in her crate, and half out of it and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her.

“Well, I think that was relatively successful,” you murmur.

“You would think that, it wasn’t your shoe laces that she chewed up,” Tom murmured from behind you.

You’d both had a tiring day with Nala. Once she got bored of playing with her toys, she immediately decided that running outside with Tom’s shoe and hiding under one of the bushes just out of reach would be far more exciting.

“You can’t get mad at her, look at her little face.” You sigh, officially completely head over heels in love, “I can’t believe someone would just dump her, she’s gorgeous.”

You felt Tom brushing a hand up you side absentmindedly as he nodded, “I know. They think she was bought as a christmas present, and then abandoned a couple weeks later.”

“We’re going to give her so much love. And I can’t wait to introduce her to Tess. You think they’ll be friends?” You grasp the fingers trailing up your arm and bring them closer round you, interlocking yours with his.

“For sure...best of friends.” He says as you snuggle further down against Tom, his arms tightening around you as you both relax against each other.

The pair of you let Nala recharge her batteries, diving into an episode of the latest show you had been watching together when you jump with a small gasp at the startling movement beneath you, as Tom sat himself up.

“Oh my god, look!”

You take a glance at Nala. she’d shifted herself in her sleep so instead of laying on the cushioned dog bed and blankets that were in her crate, she’d shimmied out and lay flat out against the giant octopus. Paws tangled with the soft legs of the toy as her head rested on its fluffy body, her pink tongue lolling to one side.

“Yes!” Tom cheered, Nala’s eyes immediately opening from the noise, “I knew she’d love it! Watch this space, Oscar the octopus is going to be her favourite.” He jumped off the couch and hunkered down next to her.

“Wait…do not tell me you named it?”

You took in the man in front of you, lying on his front playing with the pads of Nala’s paws and felt your cheeks begin to ache slightly from the smile on your face.

“Who’s clever! Yes Nala, clever girl.”

You took in your dorky little family, sliding off the couch to join them. The perfect little family of three. 

[ao3feed-merlinarthur]

by OnceFutureEmrys

Which was why when Gwaine had suggested the idea of a party, Arthur took it, hoping it would be like a get out of a jail free card, whisking him away from all of his responsibilities. 

Except it hadn’t been.

If anything, it had only dragged him back into another cell, one that he had never seen coming.

Which was how he managed to get himself in this situation. With him sitting in the backseat of a car on the way back home, squeezed inside with a drunken Gwaine in the middle seat currently vomiting into a bag, and Merlin on the other end, his best friend that he had accidentally confessed his feelings for at the party.

Oh, and had he mentioned that Gwaine had thrown up on him right after he confessed his feelings?

Gods, he was so fucked.

  Or

  After accidentally confessing his feelings for his best friend and then promptly been thrown up on, it's been a pretty rough day. And feeling as though said best friend was going to reject him, he didn't think things were going to get much better.

But perhaps, not all hope is lost... and maybe Gwaine isn't so bad at giving advice after all.

Words: 1950, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Merlin (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Percival (Merlin)

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, idiots to lovers, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Love Confessions, lots of throw up, actually concerning how many times gwaine throws up in this, gwaine is the biggest cockblock, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Pining, Misunderstandings

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Finale Review: The Last Adventure! or So Long and Thanks for All The Ducks

Hello all you happy people. The day we’ve all simultaneously waited for and dreaded is here. The grand finale to a five year journey.. and for me an almost one year journey of covering season 3 as it came out. It was thanks to this show i’ve been able to make money doing what I love. Without it I never would’ve found my patreon Kev, and I never woul’dve had the solid focus to keep going as long as I have. And I never would’ve had all you lovely people reading my work. Thank you for that. I hope you’ll stick around even though the series is gone, I love you all. But as the sun sets on this series I have one last episode of the season, and the series to cover. I won’t be doing it in my usual recap style due to it’s sheer length and scope, but I promise you if you join me under the cut I will break down eveyrthing I can about this final adventure, it’s huge, awe inspiring twists.. and it’s heartwarming conclusion. It’s everything you could want from a finale short of a Grandma Duck Cameo, and i’ts under the cut with full spoilers. Seriously if you do not want any spoilers TURN BACK NOW. I’m opening with probably the biggest spoiler of the finale. 

I Think She’s A Clone Now You were warned. So.. Webby is Scrooge’s Clone, made by FOWL as part of a decades long scheme to find the papyrus of binding, and raised by Beakly to keep this precious child out of their sinister clutches. I have hundreds of reaction images, several for what the fuck.. none of them seem sufficient.. ALL OF THEM together like some megazord of what the fuck are not sufficient for how much this reveal caught me off guard. It caught ALL of us off guard. I’m sure even those who called it still were suprised that’s the direction it took. I think we all expected her parents died by FOWL, or her parents were FOWl with Pepper being one of them, or anything else. So naturally it took around 14 drafts, and me going the fuck to sleep as I had stayed up to watch the finale and thought I could just smoothly transition into writing the review despite there being a LOTTTTT to unpack.

Even after the recharge though this took a bit of doing... so now i’ve done it... what’d I think? Whelp....

I liked it. I like it the more I think about it. Even the problems I had with it just kinda melted away as I thought about it. I understand if you do not. This twist will not be for everyone, it changes Webby’s character and story entirely, ruins tons of fan theories, and in general is batshit even for a series that in the same finale, turned Manny into a shout out to Gargoyles, complete with Keith “My Body is Ready” David. This series is genuinely batshit and loves it, but this is a LOT to ask dramatically, a lot to rewrite expectation wise and a lot to thinka bout. There’s a reason besides sleep deprevation it took me a whlie to fully grasp how I felt. So if you don’t like it fine, but i’m going to make my best case. 

Starting with something that made me realize I fully like it: It dosen’t invalidate Webby’s charcter. The one little problem I had left was “Well dosen’t Webby having the McDuck bloodline mean she couldn’t be specail if she wasn’t a McDuck? That sure the rest of the cast are specail but you can’t be really important without it?” Honestly.. no. Webby is who she is not because she’s a McDuck.. but because she’s Webby. She got her martial arts and mystery solving skills through Beakly and being raised. She had intate talent sure.. but as we’ve seen with the boys through the whole series, talent has to be honed. Skill has to be earned and learned.  Webby worked hard to research other civilizations, worked hard to hone herself into a deadly fighting machine with her mother’s help, worked hard to be every bit as cool as her idol who turned out to be her biological dad. She earned her badassery, her wisdom and her courage SQUARE. 

And more than that she’s her own person. Her adoptive parent and biological parent are both paranoiacs afraid of betryal, unwilling to trust, and slow to let anyone in. By all accounts Webby should be the same.. but she’s not. Oh sure she has some paranoia and is willing to slit some throats, she was raised by the world’s best spy and is the daughter of the world’s greatest hero, that was never going to be gone entirely. But at her core she just wants to trust people. She just wants to love them and be loved. And.. that’s why her family loves her. Because she’s the kindest, the warmest and the best of them. They love her because she’s Webby and that’s she’s family, they could care less who she’s related to. All it really changes is how Scrooge acts around her and that gives us fans tons to work with. 

It’s also expertly revealed, which helped ease us into it. Webby is just as shocked and confused as we are and is seriously hurt, which makes her vulnerable to the villains. Kate Miccui deserves a goddamn award for voice acting and if their isn’t an award show for that their should be. While she’s been fantastic with Webby all series long this is her finest performance, going from Webby’s usual self, to all the hurt she goes through.. to her quitter moments at the end, calling Scrooge dad and giving out a little noise that makes it clear as Beakly tries to leave, that no.. she’ still her family.. she’s still her mom and she’s not going anywhere. 

As for the concept being a bit ridiculous yes it is.. but so is this universe. This universe is entirely insane in the best fucking way possible: I mean.. look at this final group shot. 

We have an old man whose somehow still alive simply because he was too busy to die, an inventor whose cloned himself multiple times so clones are fesable and is probably a clone himself given how the last finale went, an awkward armored superhero and his biotech filled girlfriend, a small boy robot weapon of discretion who put his head on his brother’s body, a no longer headless manhorse former harbinger of the apocalypse with the silky voice of keith david as one big homage to gargoyles, a lesbian living shadow and her sister, a superhero who based himself on a fictional character and his boyfriend/sidekick who by all accounts should be dead by now, a lesbian military superheroine from the moon, STORKULES COCKBLOCKER OUT OF MYTH, his moong goddes sister, two adopted family stunt pilots, a bunch of super intelligent mice, an odd duck whose kinda sorta dating a giant shrimp, his cousin with super luck powers, my globetrotting boys, an immortal treasure hunter and in the family proper: a former spy turned adopted mom of a clone, a woman who lived on the moon for a good decade, a man who once trapped everyone in what would essentially be the plot of the mcu’s second best work by pure accident, a blue boy whose piloted a plain, captained pirates, and has his own talk show, a green boy whose ran a multi-trillion dollar company, nearly destroyed all of time and space and is under investigation for fraud, and a red boy who has a hulk-esque rage filled embodiment of all his suppressed emotions, whose fondest wish was tall legs, and who can easily take out a giant magica supermachine with some fancy wiring. So the richest duck in the world having a clone daughter, while divisvie and what not.. is far more plausable than we give it credit for. As are her new sisters who Id in’t forget but are part of the whole twist. 

So yeah, I like the twist and my nitpick is more that despite having a full season to set it up.. they saved it for the last episode. Instead of BUILDING on Webby’s desire to know more about her family and having the twins show up earlier.. it’s all shove into the finale. It’s a well done shoving but there’s so much that could be explored with Webby being Scrooge’s daughter, so much that futzes with the regular family dynamics and we don't’ get any of it. Sure it was probably saved for a possible season 4 but they treated this season as the last. Manny being an apocalyptic man horse voiced by the uber sexy keith david, and no I will not stop bringing that up even outside of it’s own section and why yes it is getting it’s own section, is the kind of revelation you can leave for one last episode. “One of the main cast is a clone” really isn’t and that’s disapointing. 

Especially since thinking back to life and times.. Webby IS a lot like Scrooge was before circumstance hardened him. She’s tough, resourceful.. but also has a peppy spirit to her. It adds interesting shades to her character, where she zigs where Scrooge zags, how much of it is her upbringing with Granny versus his with his parents, how much did Beakley play into it. There’s A lot to dig into and given I have most of the series left to review, I will get to dig into it, and there’s a lot to be explored in fanfic so if I wasn’t already planning a massive one before I sure as fuck am now. So it’s not a bad twist nor bad we get to write the future.. but I do wish the crew THEMSELVES had done more with it. Still my bar for “not fucking up the entire show” is pretty low after Star Vs ended with her committing implied genocide to stop a genocide and How I Met Your Mother ended “But the real journey was in how much I want to bang, bang bangity bang I said a bang bang bangity bang your aunt robin now your mother conveniently died”. I can handle “This twist is kind of weird but also really intresting.” If the twist isn’t for you, as I said i get it. This is my opinion. Now for the thing I won’t shut up about. 

I LIVE AGAIN:

Look i’ve made no secret how thirsty I am for Keith David nor how much of a national treasure I rightly believe him to be. He’s one of my faviorite voice actors, with a mind boggling number of awesome rolls, mostly recently as a fowl mouthed coffe cup encouraging a teacher to sabotage his rival teachers breaks on close enough. Even if I didn’t like Gargoyles, which I do, i’d have an entire section talking about that Manny reveal. 

Manny was already objectively one of the best parts of the show, a hilariously weird addition that was also relatable as he just wanted to fit in. I did not know you could make him better. Then they gave him Keith David’s voice and revealed he’s one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, but doesn’t want to end the world he just wants to be a normal dude, AND turned him into a shout out to the last part of the disney afternoon they hadn’t touched, my favorite part of it and a show i’ve been sitting on watching in full for far too long. Motherfucking Gargoyles. 

But given how unique it was for the Disney Afternoon and how much Disney had no desire to ever reference or use the franchise, still no fucking clue as to why they are sitting on money here, I expected it to be sadly but understandably left out. Instead they made Manny into an expy for them, gave him the voice of their leader Goliath, the voice of an angel, and had him say “I LIVE AGAIN” complete with the utterly transcendent theme song. Seriously give it a listen. 

So yeah I couldn’t not mark out at this. Amazing fucking stuff and almost as unexpected as the clone thing and easily my second faviorite part of the fiinale only NARROWLY topped by the curtain call. Which we’ll get to. Keith David took his time getting to this series but they saved the best guest voice for last. Utter tremendous. 

Huey Season?: I”ll save more of this for my breakdown as the season as a whole but yeah while the finale as a whole was good.. I do feel Huey got short changed. He got PLENTY of development this season, and some REALLY good scenes with Bradford.. but ultimately he got overshadowed by the Webby thing. it just never quite felt like Huey got a real resolution to his character arc the way his brothers did. He still got some REALLY good moments, his “Just cough up the information Bentina!” was one of his finest and Danny Pudi did his best. The BUILDUP was good but hte payoff was non existant and easily the weakest part of an otherwise triumphant finale. I feel the final plot was ultimately just a bit too jam packed to really have Huey feel vital to it the way Dewey was to the Della arc and Louie was to his own arc. Both tgot big emotional payoffs in his finale but the most I could gather here was he accepted adventure? I guess. It just really feels off, like I missed the payoff to everything when it’s probably just nonexistent and that bothers me a lot. In a finale that was almost all hit.. this was easily the biggest misstep. I don’t have as much to say here on it.. but that’s because it’s really that simple: they gave Huey’s arc a ton of build up in this last episode and some of his others, really made him into Bradford’s good counterpart.. then just sorta.. forgot it because “oh shit Webby’s scrooge’s daughter kinda need to pull focus here”. Had they given this arc at least one more episode, we might of had time for it. Granted i’m not sure how much they could get away with but we clearly needed at least one more episode and what they chose to jettision, the climax to Huey’s story.. was way more important than they clearly thought and i’m heavily disappointed. 

Bradford’s Big Hole Speaking of payoffs the missing mysteries payoff.. is a mixed bag. I expected all of them to combine some how into some elaborate plan I just wasn’t seeing. In hindsight it does make sense that wasn’t it: Bradford hates overcomplicated schemes, so his would be incredibly simple and require as few moving parts as possible. It still dosen’t stop the fact that the big plan to cap off the entire series built over a season... was to build a giant stygian hole of non existence to throw people into. 

Yes really. Instead of using the Payprus to write them out of existance, if carefully worded or try doing it all at once or anything practical.. Bradford just plans to shove everything he dosen’t want in the world anymore into a hole.  Look i’ts not like it ruins the episode, there’s still tons of tension from him holding Scrooge’s loved ones over his hole and threating to throw them into it’s gaping void. And it’s foiled by a 12 year old just.. shutting it off. Like I get him leaving an off switch on, that’s just common sense.. but why wouldn’t he have a remote or something to turn it back on? one with a password or something to lock it. There’s something inherently underwhelming about as series ending plan that can be summed up “hope no one shuts my unguarded hole. “

The finale does make for it by using the missing mysteries all in VERY clever ways. In fact every episode in the season had some sort of payoff here. It’s what makes up for how baffling the main plan is: every other thing, from the missing mysteries to the guest stars has lead up to this one moment, this one final adventure. Which leads me too

An Hurricane of Payoffs:

So from the top Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks!: Isabella Finch herself ends up being VITAL to the story and to Bradford’s backstory, as does Junior Woodchucking as a whole. Quack Pack!: Gene is the fuel for Blot’s glove.. though he also fucks off right afterwords.. never to be seen again or help out at any point...

Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice!: This was the most unexpected and elevated the episode in hindsight for me as what seemed like a waste of time.. wound up setting up the first part of the finale, and the final battle with Steelbeak, and in clever ways with Steelbeak using the intelliray on himself, Launchpad muttering the map in his sleep via his smart self and Dewey remembering the base layout. 

The Lost Harp of Mervana: Used as a lie detector for that heartbreaking interrogation scene. 

Louie’s Eleven: Introduced Daisy setting up Donald’s plot which i’ll get to. 

Astro BOYD: My baby boy comes back for this episode! He also gets one of the best lines of it “I’m a Head!”. That is the most ralph wiggum the boy has ever been. I’m so proud. 

Rumble For Ragnarok: Okay I was wrong nothing from this one comes back. Still a great episode. Same with the trickening. Both are VERY stellar episodes though, so I give it a pass. You can’t give a nod to EVERYTHING. 

The Phantom and the Sorceress: The Blot and Super Sayian God Super Sayian Lena, as well as Lena’s character development from said episode.  They Put a Moonlander on the Earth!: Launchpad helping Penny realize her purpose.  Forbidden Fountain: Jeeves is un-babied as a trap Let’s Get Dangerous!: Drake and Gosalyn Return, and Solageo’s Circut ends up being vital to the climax.. in the strangest and funnest way to say possible but still. It counts.  Escape from the Impossibin: Beakley’s near breakdown at the idea FOWL has come back. It was already heartbreaking and the first adventure had made it even more so.. but now it’s out and out DEVISTATING. The one thing after her daughter is not only back.. but SHE’S the reason he’s in Scrooge’s life and home and her giving up SHUSH has now left her wide open. 

The Split Sword: Probably the best out of all of these as it ends up directly playing into the climax in an awesome way i’m saving for Bradfords New Gods: Storkules shows up. Okay so that every episode claim bit me on the ass. Also when did these two meet? I mean probably at end of spear of selene but the more important question is WHY DID YOU ROB  ME OF THESE TWO MEETING AT ANY POINT IN THE SERIES. 

The First Adventure: Naturally the Payprus comes back as Does herons needling bradford to stop denying what he is. 

Fight For Castle McDuck: Suprisingly the blessed bagpipes ended up being VITALLY important. And giving us sexiest man alive infinity years running Keith David for an episode.  Last Christmas; Santa Cameo

Beaks in the Shell: Gandra being taken and the Lost Library being setup for this episode. 

Lost Cargo: The Stone of What Was. And Credit where its due what FELT like simply a filler episode with a tantengal connectoin.. ended up probably being one of the most important episodes. Fair play. 

Life and Crimes: Magica turning Bradford into a non sentient bird, like what happened to her brother.... proving once again this episode really REALLY needed as subplot attached to lead into the finale or something. 

Bonus Round: Pilot payoffs by the pound. Seriously Scrooge and Donald’s last lines to each other, the badass return of “I’m a Pilot”, more on that in a minute, and even other smaller call backs like “Keep Getting Up” and webby sucessfully getting some juice to Louie’s pride. All top notch stuff and it really makes the finale FEEL like one with all this coming back full circle. So i’ve hinted at it enough, let’s bring on the bad guy. 

The First Woodchuck

We’ve had some mixed payoffs so let’s get to one that’s just out and out excellent. Bradford Buzzard.. is the best villian the show ever had. Now I will give the caveat that my favorite forever and always will be

You know it, I know it. But Bradford is the best genuine threat of the series, with Marc Evan Jackson perfectly balancing his menace and genuine evil.. with his steadfast believe that he isn’t evil, and his calm, controlled business demeanor. It’s one of the best performances of the show and he deserves all the credit for it and after seeing him in supporting roles for his career, even if his role as Kevin on Brooklyn Nine-Nine is fucking awesome and I’m sad that show is ending, it’s nice to see him step into a big meaty role as the big bad and utterly nail it. 

And the finale.. pays eveyrthing off with him, apart from the plan itself perfectly. Starting off him being revealed as Isabella Finch’s grandson... was  a stroke of genius. I didn’t expect her to come back in play but it gives perfect reason both why he knew about the mysteries.. and why he’s like this. 

Like Scrooge did with his nephews, niece and daughter, Isabella dragged Bradford all around the world seeing the unseen, thinking it was fun. The problem was... Bradford HATED it. He hated every minute of it, like as one post pointed out Rusty Venture from the Venture bros, and felt he should be in school. He wanted a normal life and a normal world and not.. this waking nightmare. So to him, fixing the world, stopping this sort of thing is the only way and that doing so is a good thing. His problem is how he adapted to it.

We see that best in his mirror images, the people he’s in direct contrast with and the show knows it. Starting off with the one he’s not like at all is Scrooge. Part of what makes Bradford perfect is he’s Scrooge’s evil opposiite. The Luthor to His Superman, The Joker to his Batman, the Green Goblin to his Spider-Man, the Iron Monger to his Iron Man, the Sinestro to his Green Lantern. Both come from a long line of adventure but while Scrooge embraces that and loves it, Bradford hates it and wants to destroy it. One is energetic and always ready, the other’s calm, calculated. And one sees what he is.. and the other dosen’t. Simple as that.

But his other mirror’s are more like him, moving onto Huey. Their both woodchucks, both prefer caution and planning, and both want to make some sense of a nonsensical world. Both want to feel safe when they constnatly don’t. One’s prone to panic attack the other’s calm. But what makes Huey the better man... is that he accepts the world is the way he is. It goes all the way back to terror of the terrafirmains. While he was all for adventure he started his doubting things, not beliving things were real.. because the reality that there are some things you just can’t prepare for, just can’t know, and you can’t be always ready.. it shattered him. He nearly let himself die rather than live knowing what’s out there. Webby pulled him out of that, literally and figuratively.. and he never went back. Sure he still tries to have an order to things, still breaks when his structure’s broken.. but it’s gone from a paranoid fear of the unknown and weird to embracing it. To relishing in finding unsolved mysteries and new clues to unlock, to finding new things to explore. He went from seeing this chaotic world as something to run from, to embracing and studying it. To loving it the way it is the way his family loves him for who he is. Bradford.. denies reality belongs the way it is and wants to force it into what HIS idea of it is Superboy Prime Style. The world isn’t waht he thought it should be so he’ll MAKE it that way. Huey grew as a person.. while his arc didn’t have a full payoff.. it still pays off here by showing what he COULD’VE been. had he let his earlier fear and his always present neurosis drive him like Bradford has. Let his big brain make him think he knows what’s better for EVERYONE instead of using it to genuinely help people. Bradford lacks the boys heart and empathy and that’s why he fell. Huey had his family backing him, his best friends coming to get him, and his brothers ultimately rescue him. Bradford.. threw his only true ally down a styigan murder hole. 

Finally.. we have the one that’s not brought up directly.. but is very much there. Donald. While the two don’t interact hardly at all... it’s VERY fitting that Donald is the one Bradford picks to threaten Scrooge with. Like Bradford... Donald grew to hate adventure, he wanted to get as far away from it as possible and took it from his boys for as long as he could. Granted that was in part Bradford’s fault, and that was an INCREDIBLY clever twist: it dosen’t make him entirley responsible or anything that robs the moment of it’s imapct, Della still chose to take it out by herself, she still lied to Donald and she still got lost all by her own decision and impuslviness. But it fits perfectly into it: Bradford’s horrifying smile when Scrooge gets taken away from saving her is even WORSE now with full context, and it still fits that knowing about the project.. he’d want to set it up to screw up Scrooge’s life. I don’t think he sabotaged the rocket or anything, too obvious and something Della would’ve mentioned by now.. but he knew it was unfinished. 

Back to the parallel the diffrence is once again.. change. Donald let go of his hate of scrooge and his past and realized it wasn’t all bad. He let himself grow as a person after a decade of bitterness and anger. But most tellingly and poignantly is Quack Pack... both had a chance to make a world that was safe, normal and what they always wanted. Both out of terror of the danger of this world.  Thing is.. Donald’s was noble. He feared for his kids, his sister, his uncle.. loosing one again and any of them at all. He wanted a normal life to be safe, to hide from that.. but it’s not what THEY wanted or who they are. He accepted that’s not how the world works and how it does.. is still pretty great. And his growth shows: he’s ending the series planning to go off with his girlfriend globetrotting, KNOWING things might not be safe, but diving into adventure, having accepted it as part of him. He even finds some new family and takes in two girls who badly needed a home. He learned to accept things how they are... and Bradford refuses, not beliving in this world as it is and vowing to force it into the way he wants it to be. 

And it’s that inherent selfishness.. that makes Bradford the Cartoon Supervillian he desperatley claims he isn’t. Bradford dosen’t care how many lives it takes, how much worse it makes the world, or how many people he has to stab in the back... the world WILL be “normal”. Bradford cares for no one and nothing except his own ambition. He kills Heron despite her loyality, and his own clones who loyally served him.. simply because their chaos too. No one or nothing else matters, not how they feel, not their right to exist.. only HIS vision. If he wanted to keep the world safe he’d be more of a hero, if still throughly a bastard... but he dosen’t. He wants to make it “normal”. He wants the world the way he thinks it shoudl be and damn anyone else and perfectly represents all the old assholes like him today who refuse to accept something diffrent or against the norm because “that’s how it’s always been”.  Like those real world assholes.. Bradford is wrong. The Duckverse is beauitful how it is in it’s chaos and risk and love. And he just can’t see it because it’s not what he WANTS to see. 

And that’s why I also love the Sword giving him big, black and red classic villianous monster, slowly mutating him as he fights the duck family. Because that’s his inner strength: he may deny he’s a villian but he’s forcing his will on others, refuses to see the world as it is for selfish reasons, and is willing to kill his own friends and allies if it means getting it. He’s the bad guy. And while he denies it to those around him... it’s clear from the fact the sword is working for him that he KNOWS IT, he knows he’s a villian and this is just what he wants but is so up his own ass he can’t SAY it or admit it. And in the end he’s fully beaten by the fact that his forcing his will on everything’s what’s unnatural: While his plan was ingenious, have scrooge sign a contract agreeing never to adventure again, since he’s right Scrooge would solve nonexistance it’s the same reason “launch hulk into space” only resulted in a smarter, more skilled hulk coming back with a space army to get revenge. He just didn’t bank on the inherent rediclousness of the unvierse: family really is the greatest adventure of all.. and the papyrus accepted it. It was the one thing he coudln’t palnf or because he can’t see the woirld how it is.. and that’s why he lost. He was so confident how he saw the world and how he worked was the only way... another way beat him. 

His fate.. was also awesome and endleslly apporirate. Being mocked by the other villians who while less capable aside from Magica, at least admit what they are and what their doing.. and turned into a Vulture for Magica, left to be a mindless lackey in tons of chaotic schemes for the rest of his life. It couldn’t of happened to a nicer jackass. Okay three more sections to go. Let’s go.

Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away With Daissssyyyy

Donald’s leaving for a long, romantic adventure with Daisy is the perfect capper to Doanld’s character. Donald started the series hating adventure: blaming it for della being gone, his rough times during it, and wanted to escape it in the boat and keep from loosing his kids to it. He felt like a looser for not having reached his dreams or properly provided for his nephews, when really he did his best and still raised three wonderful kids. A bit overproective, god yes.. but despite his grief and anger he still got through ten years with them on his own merits, hard work and determination. 

As the series went he reconclied with his past, realized Scrooge lost something too and that blaming him soley when it was Della’s choice was just taking his anger out on the one person he had left to take it out on instead of embracing his only family left, accepted Storkules as his friend (JUST his friend), accepted adventure through quack pack realizing that while it may be weird, dangerous and sometimes stressful for him... it’s what his family love doing and they should be who they are instead of who he wants them to be, and finally.. accepted himself by finding Daisy, someone who loves him for who he is, and literally and metaphorically understands him and turned right back around from dumping him to save him from a giant monster she roared at. He’s finally at peace. 

And that’s why leaving. Not forever, He , Daisy, and his girls will be back in a few months or even a month. It’s very clear this is a vacation.. but it’s one  he’s earned.  He’ll always love his boys, his surrogate daughter/cousin, his sister, and his best buddy launchpad. But it’s okay for him to want to form his OWN family, to spend time with his future wife and show her the world. To make his own story for once instead of sharing it. To find his voice. 

I also find it very poetic that a story that started with Donald raising his nephews like their dad.. ends with him adopting two more children. Two kids whose lives had been misrable: rapidly aged in tubes, deemed failures, constantly bellittled by the closest things they have for parents, so desperate for answers they’d kidnap their own sister and betray her trust and do things they know are wrong, And all this.. for nothing as their  Dad kills their mom, bad as she was, and plans to kill them. And Donald’s first thought when given the chance to have a kid free time to himself, with no guilt having earned it? To take these girls in, start his own family, if Daisy’s cool with it mind he thankfully clearly called to talk this over first, and give them their own. Because that’s who Donald is, a good man whose finally earned his happy ending and the life he always wanted.. and accepted who he always was. An adventuerer, a loving fiance.. and  dad. 

The Real Hero: One last one before the bonus round and a quick one. The Launchpad Scene.. was one of the shows best. His arc in this episode of thinking he’s not a hero.. made sense. He’s been plenty heroic.. but his boyfriend is a martial arts and gymnastics savant and one of his three best friends has a giant suit of armor and is a genius. But the payoff made even more: He may not be the strongest, the most skilled or the smartest.. but he has the heart of a hero. He’s always been the kindest, most trusting, most friendly one of the main family, a guy who never gives up, even when he should, never surrenders and loves everybody. And that’s why he’s inspired so many people: Fenton to not give up after his firing and keep going, leading to his path as Gizmoduck. When Drake was lost, his fllm gone and his mentor seemingly dead (In fact skulking around the sewers like an evil ninja turtle), and his future unclear... TOLD HIM he could be Darkwing, that he could become the hero they both ihdolized and the inspiration to kids he wanted to be by his own bootstraps, and he gave Gosalyn faith in darkwing and hope at at time she had none. He also gave those mice their freedom. Not as poignant but you try creating the rescue rangers and see how far you get. I’ve lost a lot of chipmunks and mice that way. 

Launchpad’s last stand makes up for his lack of being in the season during the final  half. Launchpad realizing that despite his quirks he’s just as noble, valuable and wonderful as his families, both of them. And that he is a pilot. Sure he gets the gizmoduck armor.. but the armor isn’t what makes hi ma hero... i’ts being launchpad that makes him a hero. Loving adopted dad, wonderful partner, best friend... and a pilot

Bonus Round:

Okay this is just stray stuff from throughout the episode I didn’t have several paragraphs worth of material on before we get to the final thoughts. But it had so much good I can’t not talk about it. So...

Gyro calling Little Bulb BOYD’s brother. My heart wept. So sweet. As was him fixing his son at the end. BOYD has the two loving families he deserves.. and the brother he deserves.. and the brother he dosen’t deserve who will probably also is skulking around the sewers like an nafarious ninja turtle as the series ends. 

Gosalyn fixing up Darkwing’s outfit for him. Awwww. Adopt that child you coward. Also if they don’t base the reboot on frank’s work here, I will riot. 

“Just cough up the information Bentina!” that was just pure comedy gold especially the sheer fear radiating off him. Also right. 

Manny’s “I can explain” and , once he has silky smooth keith david voice going “Come on man I just want to live my life.” That man is a legend. 

Dewey and Louie just not talking the “you kids stay behind shit” pointing out both their stake in this and how they’ll just go anyway and him proudly accepting it. Given the kids turned the tied of things a lot, good call. 

Dewey and Don Karnage singing their own background music as they air joust. Hell yes. 

Pepper got a promotion! Goodf or her... it’s meaningless now but hey she has a partner in both senses. 

Speaking of pepper she had the best line of the episode “He’s a grown man who has the strength of a baby!”. Only Amy Sedaris could’ve given that delivery just the perfect way she did. 

The Funzo’s opening sequence was dynamite, from how well set up it was as an infilfration, to Webby having learned how to scam free drinks (Louie was so proud), to Lena cheating for her sister at DDR, to Scrooge paying full price.. it was wonderful> The payoff was also great as rather than be mad her special day was used as part of an elabroate spy operation.. she’s giddy. Because of course she is. Two specitic  bits that get their own items

The Cabs came back one last time! It dosen’t effect my now finished retrospective, but after spending all that time with them it was nice to see them for what will probably be the last time for some time. 

The whole scene where Della finds out about the trip. Just all of it. Her casually and accidentally choking daisy TWICE, Fethry, who sadly did not get an episode this season, being the one to blab about it and only realizing it .. after repeating that they told him not to, and Gladstone who not only was casually winning at Skeeball while his cousins both got pissed at it, relateable as hell, but then awkwardly escorting his baby cousin out of the situation. 

“Satstically with Hubert gone one of us should be pancking but WHO I ASK YOU WHO?” As if I needed more evidence they were perfect for each other. 

Lena just.. slumping over after Dewey finally has her drop the cloak. Comedy gold. BOYD scanning her later likewise so. 

The second best line and line read of the episode goes to Louie/Bobby Monihan. “That is not comforting, I do not want to die”. He couldn’t of summed up Louie in one line any better. 

Ludvwig was a national treasure.  Not only did I squeel internally when it turned out he was alive but the explination for it was hilarious as it was batshit, and him just causally revealing Webby’s origin was fucking amazing “Ill give you all a moment ot process” The acomplanying “bless me bagpipes” was also amazing. 

I do wish we found out where FOWL went but it was probably to leave the remains all free to come back as villians of the week. Frank outright said they had a tailspin sequel episode ready to go.

The Webby and June fight was a masterpiece and I REALLY need to do a top 12 fights list someday. 

Lena connecting with the new twins , having pretty much the same background of being created by a villian for shitty reasons. 

“one is silver and the other is “ “Flintheart glomgold!” they should consider a teamup. What’s a little brainwashing between friends?

“We’re sisters’. No you and violet are sisters, Webby is your girlfriend your both just in denial. I only say this because Webby also thinks Della and Penny are just friends and I feel she simply dosen’t know what being gay is or again is in denial. They’ll get there. Plus it feels like Lena just didn’t want to loose her and would say anything which is valid. 

Curtain Call and Final Thoughts:

The Curtain Call was the perfect way to end a spectacular finale. Each bit of it’s a masterpiece, and every character gets one last awesome, heartfelt and hilarous goodbye with the camera and ending how it should: on our five most important characters, in a circle, together, smiling, freefaling into the next adventure. I”d have it no other way and any other series finale credits and last moments will now pale in comparison. 

So the finale as a whole is messy, some bits aren’t resolved as good as they could’ve been, Huey go the shaft, and it REALLY needed another episode leading into it to help take the pressure off. While it needed 90 minutes for the plot it had to tell, it needed more to build up to that and while the season was tight with episodes they BADLY needed one more they didn’t get or even a subplto to help take the load off this episode. 

But even with that... it was an utterly awesome finale on par with other recent standouts like “Let’s Fight to the End”/ “Thank you For Watching the Show” (Both feel like finales to me but in diffrent ways), “The Future” and the whole arc leading up to it, both parts of “Heart” and “Nice While It Lasted” . It was heartstopping, heartrending and heartfelt and ended the show as it should be: with over the top insanity, big reveals, a hell of a final battle.. and a focus on family. It’s not the perfect finale, and I defintely need more ducktales.. but it’s still a classic one and one of the series finest hours.. literally in this case. 

I.. am going to miss this series. I went into it before but it’s thanks to this series I make a living. If you’d like to contribute to that, I have a patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet, my next stretch goal is a darkwing duck epsiode a month so  kick in a buck won’t you? and take comissions so if theres an episode from the first two seasons that’s not part of the season 1 arc (I’m almost done there) or Lena’s story (already being paid for that) feel free to shoot me a line to comissoin it for five bucks an episode. 

But more than that it was an excellent well crafted show that took a franchise I love and updated it for a new generation. My nieces love it, I love it, and I will always love it for that. Young or old, this show as phenominal, it was stupdendous.. it was a duckblur. It will remain in my heart for probaly the rest of my life among such shows as Steven Universe, Parks and Recreation, The Venture Bros, Letterkenny, DBZ Abriged, and so many more that have touched my life. It was simply the best. And i’m going to miss it. Thank you for reading this, i’ll see you at another rainbow, if not one quite like this.

Next on this Blog: Duck week continues after this review took two days to complete. Sorry about that. Our heroes head to castle McDuck and Dewey is forced to face the consequences of his actions, while Scrooge yells at his dad , his dad yells at him and his mom is the most precious thing tha’ts ever lived. Also Launchpad in Donald Cosplay. And it won’t stop there as till saturday the rest of the week is all dedicated to Ducktales as I finish up the Della and Lena arcs for season 1 and get started on Lena’s last three episodes. So if you liked some ducktales, stick around. And once again.. thank you.