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#bitches be like *points to this image* 'is this seat taken?'
skullfragments · 3 months
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July 4th, 2024 - Steve Rogers has been alive for 106 slutty, slutty years
Happy Birthday Steve! It's ok that you fell asleep before the party started; an old man needs his nap time <3
This started off silly and cute and then veered into slightly self-indulgent territory. I will not apologize.
(yes, OF COURSE the kiss is from Bucky, who else could get away with the party hat, smooch, and flash photo without waking him?)
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writerbri-archive · 1 year
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parting writing advice before this blog becomes inactive from someone who takes pictures of broken bones for a living and who has worked in an ER
a fracture of the bone is the exact same thing as a break, it’s just a more medical term the same way that sutures are the exact same thing as stitches and edema is the same thing as swelling, so an open fracture that breaks through the skin is the same thing as a closed hairline fracture you can barely see on an X-ray is the same thing as a stress fracture that is only really detectable with a physical exam, they’re only classified in more specific ways and they are treated based on severity
most superficial wounds aren’t going to be stitched up after 12-24 hours because they’ve been open long enough that closing them at that point would be asking for infection
an X-ray is a little bit of radiation, a CT is quite a bit more radiation, and an MRI is a magnet with no radiation whatsoever
no matter what grey’s anatomy or any other medical show might make you believe, doctors rarely do any actual imaging (taking X-rays, CTs, etc) and most of them would have no idea how
Concussions are not diagnosed with imaging. There is not a single X-ray or CT or anything else that can tell a doctor that their patient has a concussion. A concussion is diagnosed with an exam. Patients will usually have a headache and they will be dizzy, nauseous, light/sound sensitive, and sometimes they will have memory or vision problems. They will occasionally have something called nystagmus in their eyes. CTs are taken to rule out more serious conditions such as a fractured skull or bleeding/clotting in the brain.
O2 saturation is a vital that tells you how much oxygen is in your blood. Anything above 95% is okay. Anything from 90-94% is going to make a medical professional take a second look. Anything from 80-90% is low grade hypoxia and you’re getting a chest X-ray and possibly put on oxygen. You might be going to the hospital. Anything below 80% is most likely a hospital admission whether you like it or not because you’re about to get a whole shit ton of labs and a CT of your lungs at the very least if the X-ray hasn’t show a punctured lung or pneumonia to explain what’s up. I hope you find nasal cannulas comfortable. Doctors would be concerned about a blood clot, lung cancer, and other super concerning pathologies.
Kidney stones hurt like a bitch and can cripple most people to the point where they cannot walk. Imagine a foot long straw trying to pass a rock that is 2-3x it’s diameter.
Children regrow bones like lizards grow their tails. Kids can be healed from a fracture in 2-4 weeks that would take an adult 6-8 weeks to heal.
The femur is an incredible difficult bone to break. It’s usually a very high impact injury (car wreck, long distance fall, skiing accident, etc).
This is just advice but do not do not DO NOT ride in the passenger seat of a car with your legs propped up on the dash if you value keeping your leg bones intact where they are supposed to be. Just don’t do it, please. But if you want to write a particularly gruesome car wreck, that’s a good way to do it!
Animal bites are almost always preemptively treated with antibiotics.
I might add more if I can think of it but I’ll answer any questions if people have them
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inchidentally · 3 months
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for any new followers, bl 'wank adjacent' to not see me respond to tricky asks <3 I always keep them beneath a cut but yk <3
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straight up anon I was wondering why the gossip pages suddenly had this insaaaaane influx of Rebecca hate anons when she hasn't done anything of gossipy note with Carlos for a while and then I'm like ahhhh yes either Carlos or Lando decided to pull the carland0 hashtag out. this year's been esp egreeeegious:
_Carlos needs an image boost while he looks for the best seat
_Lando's dad wants in on the ship name hashtag to promote his scooters
_Carlos complains that Netflix has always given him unfavorable treatment so he gets Caco to liaise with them at races, he looks for the Netflix boom to create 'moments' with Lando/McLaren and Kym confirms they prepped Netflix thinking he'd podium at Barca and get to announce his new seat
_Lando needs image rehab and wants ppl off the topic of him and Max fighting
_Carlos is rumored to have lost potential seats due to delaying and might end up having none at all and needs to boost a reminder of the popularity he brings as a driver
and like I always say, yes there is a genuine if not quite the way they portray it friendship between Lando and Carlos! it's the same as Lando has with other drivers but rpf girlies just don't find them as yaoi or they aren't as hot for those guys. and I enjoy all their interaction in the not-insane privacy of my own head where rpf and reality have nice solid lines alsfsljafg. but it also reminds me how much I love that Lando and Oscar never went for any of this PR bullshit and have actually wanted to develop a genuine relationship without fan/McLaren/Netflix/TV network involvement. at no point does Lando turn to gimmicks with Oscar when he needs a PR boost even tho he could easily do so with McLaren's help and Oscar is a solidly safe bet bc he's considered so inoffensive and loved now.
but they won't jump on their ship name, they won't play gay for attention and engagement, they don't create any memes or soundbites, and the sweet and fun things they do aren't buzzworthy or contrived into a bromance format that fans are cultivated to recognize. some fans know Oscar helps Lando's brain sometimes, they get on the same wavelength and have nonverbal communication, they respect and support each other even when there's a huge disparity of outcome in a weekend, and they both genuinely love making the other laugh. like, none of that is something you can stick on a sm graphic and guarantee the kinds of numbers the bromances get. Netflix even made a joke about how they couldn't create a narrative around them even when they openly begged to make it happen salfgsaljfgla.
nobody in PR is at all intrigued by these two guys cautiously getting to know each other and cultivating a unique and unlikely positive and healthy team atmosphere together. there's no handy orchestrated narrative there. McLaren social media occasionally roll with the 'twinning' thing but even that isn't gimmicky enough and it's more about them being on the same wavelength than them actually being identical in any way. even the Oscar nickname thing has been unconsciously taken from fans by Lando bc he only said it the first time without thinking and from there he's kept it as something that just makes them both smile AND has even changed it up when fans started co-opting it too much. and neither of them pull it out in random interviews to try and create a buzz about it.
and whenever we get a dry spot in landoscar content or for the millionth time hear about them hanging out and not posting it - it's worth remembering that we're also not getting the 1D/BTS rpf truther pipeline fans showing up and that no one will try and conspiracy theory Lily into a beard/fake/bitch/leech or even decide to dislike her !! and we don't have to realize ah, they're only hanging out or talking about each other to manipulate fan engagement for a double purpose. they're either together or mentioning each other bc of their job and otherwise it's bc they genuinely like each other.
side note it is always wild to me that I got sucked into F1 solely bc of carland0 PR and I don't normally mind the pandering - and I wouldn't mind it at all if carland0 as a fandom wasn't also responsible for the most repulsive, misogynist, maniacal campaign of hatred toward women and decides that either they're evil and fake/beards or they're brainless idiots with zero self-respect who serve as fake/beards. the fact that I got on f1blr and saw that ppl push that insanity and actually think carland0 could be or is actually a real gay relationship FULLY out in the open and with no shame to this very day... like shame on me for looking at gossip pages but genuinely I see it as much in normal fandom spaces as I do there which is insane. literally Lando decides to hit like on a post to generate the predictable response and the gossip pages go from every day shit to Rebecca back to being treated like a force of pure evil who urgently needs to be exposed and disposed of and who Carlos is paying for and doesn't even remotely like and is pure PR - even though apparently she's also terrible PR?? - and his family all want her destroyed and all the old photos and jobs fans dug up recirculating as "proof" that she is pure evil ??!!!! the woman hasn't even been publicly with Carlos since Barcelona and has done nothing but go horse riding and modeling but then someone sprays water on the carland0 hive and it's suddenly time to martial the fucking flotilla against her again as their only "obstacle" to carland0 finally being together aslsafglsjagflasfgljfag
I do have to laugh bc Carlos only growing in public affection for her and bringing her up when no one else does and him traveling with her to her modeling gigs when he's on break and leaving lovey comments on her content even tho she doesn't on his is already breaking ppls brains and making The Hatred Narratives change up every five seconds to try and de-legitimize them as a couple bffbfbf
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aestheticseungmean · 2 years
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And They Were Roomates
Featuring: Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, and Jeong Jungkook with brief Park Jimin
Warnings: Daddy kink, oral (male and fem), implied female reader, name calling, edging, overstimulation, sir kink, master kink, reader being referred to as bitch, praise, voyeurism, dacryphilia, choking, biting, threesome.
Please do not send any hate. This is my first threesome smut. Request open and please enjoy
Word count: 7.6K words
Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung. You banged your head in your hands frustratedly. At one point, you missed and banged your head on the desk. The teacher stopped speaking and everyone looked at you. “I’m okay…” She shrugged and went back to writing impossible math problems on the board. All but one of the students directed their attention back to the board. You sighed and winced when you got hit by a note. You opened it and smiled. Your dorm @4 and your bed is mine. Quickly, you threw a glance at your mint-haired friend who smirked at you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. Luckily, you had homework so you wouldn’t fight over the bed.
Four rolled around quickly and you left your door unlocked. It wasn’t like your friend was going to knock anyways. “I’M HERE AND I BROUGHT A FRIEND.” “IN HERE.” You watched as he entered the room. “Hey, Yoongs!” He muttered a ‘hey’ and jumped on your bed. “My homework gives me more reaction than you.” “I’m here, too.” A small voice came from the doorway. “Chimmy!” Jimin was your childhood crush, but as all good things get older, they fade. That’s exactly what happened. Now you have a crush on the campus hot boy alien, Kim Taehyung. He was untouchable. Unreachable. And he’s been on your mind since he gave you his umbrella and stood in the rain.
“Yoongles?” “Why do you hate me?” He sighed and groaned. “Cause I do. Now, did you pay attention in class?” You heard a slight chuckle. “I was zoned out but I know one thing. You were thinking of Taehyung.” He sneered. The closest soft thing was a plushie, so you decided to throw it at Yoongi. Jimin perked up. “I wanna talk about Tae.” “I don’t.” Jimin forcefully turned your seat around and made you look at him. “We are talking about Taehyung.” “You looked like shit in class.” Of course, Yoongi noticed. No matter how much concealer you put on, he could tell. “I didn’t get good sleep last night.” “I can tell. These sheets smell clean, which means you washed them this morning.” True. You did. You hate washing your sheets so you do it once a month unless you have a reason to do it sooner.
“Okay, so I had a dream…” That was the truth… just not the full truth. “What kind of dream?” Yoongi smirked. “Obviously one about Taehyung, Jimin.” Sighing and blushing, you hid your head in your hands. “Ooh, was he choking you? Did he chain you up? Did he blindfold you? Did he make you call him daddy?” No. No. No. You absolutely did not want that image in your head right now, especially not in front of your friends. You bit back a moan and shuddered instead. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “He’s got you whipped.” Jimin giggled, playfully teasing you. You groaned. “Shut up, please!” Jimin looked taken aback. “Man, you need to get fucked and fast. You’re a bitch.” “I don’t need your criticism, Jimin. Or your advice.” At this point, the homework was forgotten until you turned around. Your phone buzzed violently.
ᗰᗩᗰᗩ ᒍIᑎ
Did you hear the news?
Did you?
Did you?
Answer me!
I cannot believe you don��t love your brother
What news?
Taehyung’s heading towards your house
What!?
I think it was something like he’s moving in next to you.
WHAT!?
“SERIOUSLY, HE DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME THAT TAEHYUNG IS MOVING IN NEXT DOOR?” “Ooh, the tea is piping hot!” “Shut up, Jimin.” You groaned as someone knocked on the door. “Must be, Jinyoung.” The dorms were co-ed which was stupid, but you guess that the administration didn’t care if you got an STD, or worse, pregnant. Jinyoung hadn’t been home in weeks and you noticed his door was closed the entire time, but he was a private person so nothing was thought of it. You stood up and readjusted your shorts from riding up any farther. Thinking he could hear you, you started complaining to the door. “Jinyoung, you know that the key opens the door. Don’t tell me you lost it otherwise-“ You finally paid attention to who was at the door. Kim Taehyung. Jungkook was standing behind him with the second half of Taehyung’s stuff. “Hi! Are you going to let me into my dorm, roomie?”
A knock sounded on your bedroom door and Jimin opened it before you could react. Taehyung and Jungkook stood at the door. “YOU GOT AN XBOX ONE, PLAYSTATION, WII, AND TWO COMPUTERS FOR GAMING!” You giggled at Jungkook’s reaction. Typically, after school, you would come in here and play against people or just play for fun. “Is Jungkookie excited by my new roommate’s gaming system?” He nodded. “If you want, we can play sometime, Jungkook.” You could see him glowing with excitement. “I can come back if you want to be alone.” Taehyung eyed Jimin and Yoongi cautiously. His tone told you that he was thinking you were going to do something with Jimin and Yoongi. “It’s okay, they’re just friends.” “I’m not just your friend…” Jimin is not helping. “I’m your childhood best friend too!” “Go order takeout and make yourself useful.”
He stuck his tongue out at you before going to the living room to order. “What do you need?” “I was wondering if you’d help me do laundry?” Yoongi chuckled and gave you a look. That ‘this is the guy you want to fuck you’ look. “You don’t know how to do laundry?” He sheepishly grinned. “I mean, I do, but I don’t want to break another washer because it was different.” Jungkook chimed in much to the despair of his best friend. “Oh yeah! You broke the knob off and then fried the wiring.” Yoongi chuckled at you. Through gritted teeth, Taehyung spoke. “Yes, I was referring to that one.” Thankfully, Jimin came back into the room which saved Taehyung from complete embarrassment. Whatever, you thought. “Let’s go, it’s downstairs.” He nodded and grabbed his laundry. The two of you walked side by side in silence until you got to the laundry room. He watched closely as you showed him how to use the washer, eyes analyzing your every move. ———————————————————
“I-I have to go.” You were too embarrassed to stay and deal with the fact that your hot roommate heard you get turned on by a dryer. “Stay.” Taehyung’s voice was dominant and turned you on even more. Your juices were slowly soaking through to your shorts. Luckily, you were wearing black so it didn’t show, but at least you were in a place where you could wash your clothes. “Did that turn you on?” You shook your head. “Answer me, baby doll.” A small whimper left your lips when he forced his leg in between yours. “Yes, Daddy.” Daddy. Taehyung just realized that he had a Daddy kink. “Fuck, that was hot.” He watched as your face turned pink and you looked away from him. This wasn’t acceptable in his book. His hand gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. You looked into his lust-filled eyes and gulped as he leaned in closer, lips brushing yours. The need controlled your movements as you pulled him into a heated kiss. It was a mess of moans and tongues as you submitted to Taehyung.
Pulling away to catch your breath, Taehyung nipped and sucked at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks. “We can’t do this here. There are cameras.” He nipped harshly at a sweet spot, causing you to moan. “Let them watch.” Forcing yourself not to succumb to his wants, you pushed him away. “We’ll get kicked out.” You jumped down only to be pushed against the wall. Taehyung grinded himself against you, the pleasure making you throw your head back. “Tae,” your voice was barely a whimper now. “You can’t leave me hanging babydoll, now can you?” “No Daddy but-“ He effectively cut you off by thrusting his long, slender fingers in your mouth, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. Drool spilled out of the corner of your mouth, making you feel absolutely filthy. If one were to walk into the laundry room, they’d know exactly what was going down or who was going down.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, nearing closer to the laundry room. “Stay quiet, babydoll and they won’t know a thing. You can do that for me, right?” “Yes, Daddy,” you sighed. “Good girl.” Taehyung removed his fingers from your mouth and wiped them on his sweatpants. “Hey, Taehyung. ________.” You managed to squeak out a small hi to your classmate, but Taehyung’s wandering hands didn’t help either. When she looked away to grab clothes, Taehyung’s large hand groped your breast, pinching your sensitive nipple through the shirt. “Shit,” you gasped. “Are you okay?” You looked up to see the girl staring at you worried. “Yeah, just had a cold chill.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it was believable enough for her to return to her laundry. “Who knew my baby doll had a little mouth on her?” Taehyung whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “What else can that pretty mouth say?” “Wait until we get back to the dorm to do anything,” you hissed, scared of getting caught but loving the thrill. “Tsk. Are you disrespecting me? Do I need to punish you?”
The thought of what Taehyung could do to you made you even wetter. Your juices threatened to escape your shorts and show him how much that affected you but there was no need. His fingers slipped into your shorts and ran across your clit, forcing you to bite your lip to keep quiet. “Hey, you look sick. Are you okay?” You looked up to find the girl staring at you and suddenly, you were all too aware of Taehyung’s fingers threatening to push into you in a public area. “Yeah, it’s just hot in here.” She nodded in agreement. “It is a little, but will you be kind enough to watch my clothes? I have to study and I don’t want someone to set them on top again in the middle of the wash.” A quick nod made her smile, and she left the room. “Babydoll, I think you have a voyeurism kink.” A smirk was etched onto his face as you turned to him, wide-eyed. “And I think I know just how to satiate that. Would you like me to call Jungkookie? Or how about Yoongi hyung, hmm? How would you like to have your best friend watch you get ruined?”
“You don’t even need to talk, your body is talking for you,” he purred into your ear. You whined when he slipped his hands out of your shorts and tapped your lips. “Open up, babydoll.” Maybe you could get some retribution for his teasing. The lewd sucking sounds from you made Taehyung groan out loud. He pulled his fingers out and dried them on his sweatpants before turning to the dryer. “I think the dryer’s done.” Your mouth hung open as he completely ignored the fact that he had just been toying with you, making you a mess. Taehyung grabbed his phone and pulled up his contacts before calling someone. “I’ll be right back,” he said, heading out to the hallway. Dumbfounded, you stood in place trying to figure out what just happened. Sexually frustrated, you squeezed your thighs together, hoping that your classmate would come to get her clothes so you could go home and fix your own problems. Fuck Taehyung. Fuck him and his effect on you.
“Hey, thank you! I owe you a favor.” You came back down to earth to see the second person you wanted to see the most. “Oh, it’s no biggie.” Exhaling heavily, you grabbed Taehyung’s clothes from the dryer, put them in his basket, and walked out to where he stood, still on his phone. He grunted when you shoved the basket into his chest before stomping back to the apartment, clearly struggling to keep your cool. Behind you, you heard Taehyung chuckle. “Okay, see you soon. Bye.” Was he really going to leave you like this? Almost immediately, you shut your bedroom door. You threw yourself face down on your bed, screaming. You turned over and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it would feel to have Taehyung’s long fingers reaching lengths that your own couldn’t. Just the thought itself made your hands crawl down to the place that needed the most attention. You wasted no time slipping your fingers in between your folds, collecting the slick that was now dripping down onto the back of your shorts.
With ease, you pushed in one finger, your back arching at the pleasure. “Fuck,” you moaned out, now thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself. Moans spilled from your mouth as you edged closer to your high. Your door creaked open and you heard a tsk. “Babydoll, you couldn’t wait for me?” “You were busy on the phone,” you spat. “Being a little brat, are we? I think I can fix that.” Taehyung grabbed the silk tie from your robe hanging on the door and crawled onto your bed. “Hands.” “No, I’m so close,” you whimpered. He ignored your pleading as his large hands wrapped around your wrists, forcing them up towards the bed frame. “You don’t want to listen, then you don’t get to cum, baby doll. Fine. By. Me.” You tugged at the silk that restricted you to the bed. “Tae,” you whined out, earning a glare. “What did you just call me?” He asked darkly. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” His dark eyes disappeared when he smiled, causing you to internally scream at the fact that he could look so sexy one minute, but the next minute so cute.
“I brought you a gift!” Taehyung exclaimed. Confused, you watched as he opened the door to reveal your best friend, leaning against your door frame. “Y-Yoongi, what are you doing here?” “No speaking without permission, Babydoll.” Yoongi strolled in and sat down in your desk chair, spreading his legs while exerting dominance. “Daddy, what are you doing?” “Kitten, I believe he told you not to talk without permission.” You gulped and watched as Taehyung stalked you like his prey. “Hmm, I bet you taste sweet.” Your hips rutted into the air as Taehyung dragged his fingers up your leg, over the spot you wanted them most, over your chest, and to your cheeks where he harshly squeezed them and forced you to look at him. “I want you to be a good girl for me. Or else.” Without warning, Taehyung ripped your shirt, exposing the dark red bra that you were thankful you had put on before going to the laundry room. “We won’t be needing this,” he said before reaching underneath you and unclasping your bra in one swift motion.
As the garment was thrown across the room, Taehyung was working at your perked nipples. You gasped as he pinched and twisted the sensitive bud. A low chuckle escaped from his lips as he took the other in his mouth, using his tongue to stimulate you. “Fuck,” you whined. Taehyung pulled back and removed his hands. “I’m pretty sure Taehyung made himself clear, Kitten,” Yoongi stated. You looked up at Taehyung as if asking for permission to talk. “You may speak, babydoll.” “I’m sorry, Daddy. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Just touch me please,” you said desperately, already having been denied an orgasm once. “I think you should ask Yoongi hyung what he thinks.” “Yoongi-“ He held up his hand to quiet you. “If you want to get anywhere with me, then you should call me master.” “Master, I’ll do anything, I just want someone to touch me. Please.” You saw a small smirk appear on his face as you spoke. “Taehyung, I think Kitten wants you to taste her.” “With pleasure.”
Taehyung tapped your thigh to signal for you to lift your hips so he could take off your shorts. “Babydoll, you're soaked. Is it because of Daddy or maybe it’s caused by your master?” You took your lip in between your teeth to stop the noises threatening to release themselves. A loud moan forced its way out of your mouth as Taehyung licked a stripe up your folds. “How does she taste?” “So good.” Just as quick as he spoke, he was already diving back in, devouring you like a starved man. You let out a broken sob at the euphoric feeling. If your hands weren’t tied, they’d be tangled up in Taehyung’s messy hair. Instead, you let your thighs tighten around his head. “Kitten, you're gonna suffocate him.” The male in between your legs let out a groan when he realized Yoongi’s words affected you. “Use your fingers, Taehyung.” Complying to Yoongi’s command, Taehyung slipped a finger into you, moving it at a fast pace. “Don’t be a pussy, add more. She can take it.” “Master-“ Your words were cut off by the male adding two more fingers. You felt your high approaching and so did Taehyung. Right before you came, he pulled away, letting your orgasm fade.
“You didn’t think I’d actually let you come so soon, did you, babydoll? You’ve been a bad girl.” You stared at him, tears spilling out of your eyes from being so close. “Don’t look so sad, Kitten. We’re just getting started.” Taehyung crawled off the bed and stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving himself in his underwear. Your eyes widened at the sight of Taehyung’s bulge straining against his boxers. You happily sighed as he took them off, letting his dick stand tall and proud. “Like what you see?” Taehyung asked cockily. “I know for a fact that Yoongi’s bigger.” He let out a growl, sounding almost animalistic as Yoongi chuckled from the side. “Well, she’s not wrong.” “It doesn’t matter the size, as long as you fuck your bitch right.” The bed dipped as he untied the silk from the bed frame. He pulled you towards him, seeing as how your wrists were still tied together. “And tonight, along with every other night, you are my bitch.” His lips crashed against yours in a messy make out. You fought for dominance but ultimately lost. Taehyung pulled away for air and readjusted you so you were on his lap. Even though he was dominating you, he still wanted to make sure you were ready for him.
“Are you ready?” The sincerity in his voice was sweet but you were too far gone to care. “Take me, daddy. Make me your bitch.” You whispered the last word into his ear before nibbling at it, making him groan. Taehyung lifted you up and helped you ease onto his dick. He let out a guttural groan as he bottomed out. “Move for me, babydoll.” Using his chest as leverage, you brought your body up before slamming it back down, repeating the process. Eventually, you started to slow down, becoming worn out from doing all the work. Taehyung gladly took control, flipping you over and pounding you deep into the mattress, making you moan out loud. You glanced over at Yoongi, who was watching the entire show with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. A sharp gasp left your lips as Taehyung found that ‘special’ spot. “YOONGI,” you screamed out in pleasure, making Taehyung wrap his hands around your throat and lean down towards you. He chuckled deeply into your ear. “Oh babydoll, you’re in for a long night.”
You became frustrated when Taehyung pulled out once again, making you cry out. “Daddy. Please let me cum just once.” He pretended to think about it before shaking his head. “I think you’ve been a good girl but I’m not letting you cum. He might though.” You froze and looked to where Taehyung was pointing. Jungkook stood dumbfounded in the doorway, watching your naked body shudder under his gaze. Yoongi pulled up the other chair and patted it, signaling Jungkook to sit down. You watched as he shifted in his chair, trying to ignore the raging hard-on he was sporting. “Looks like Jungkookie has a little problem. Why don’t you let him use you? Maybe he’ll let you cum.” Jungkook visibly gulped as Taehyung stepped away and gave him permission to come up to you. “C-Can I?” He asked, reaching out for your hand. “Yes, sir.” His eyes darkened at the two little words that held a monumental effect on him. Jungkook carefully took your hand in his, wanting to be a little more on the sweet side.
“She’s not porcelain, she won’t break,” Taehyung scoffed. “Trust me, I know.” He added, throwing you a smirk. “You’re right, I didn’t break. Maybe you just didn’t fuck me hard enough.” Sure you were gonna die, but it would be worth it. “Bitch-“ Jungkook turned and stood face to face with Taehyung. “You said it was my turn, therefore; it’s my turn. Clearly, you didn’t impress her.” Taehyung backed up, astonished that his friend just spoke back to him. Jungkook returned to his spot beside you and untied your wrists. “No need for this.” You sighed and rolled your wrists, happy that there wasn’t something restraining them anymore. “Thank you, sir.” “On your knees.” Gladly, you dropped down on your knees in front of him. His hands fumbled to get the belt on his jeans undone, but once he got it off everything else was easy. “I want you to put that pretty mouth to use. You said you don’t have a gag reflex and I’m here to test that, Princess.”
Once his dick was free from its confinement, you set to work, smearing his precum along his length. He let out an almost pornographic moan when you kitten licked his tip. “Don’t tease.” Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you opened your mouth and fit as much as you could at one time. “Good girl,” Jungkook groaned, his fingers tangling into your hair and pushing you further down, enjoying the feeling of your tongue swirling around his dick. You hollow your cheeks and begin to suck on his length softly. He bucked his hips harshly when he felt you swallow the drool threatening to spill out of the corners of your mouth. “I can’t hold back, Princess.” You tapped his thigh, signaling to let go of his restraint and just fuck your mouth until your throat is raw. Jungkook happily did so, thrusting roughly to the point where your nose reached the skin at the base of his dick. “You weren’t lying, babydoll. You really don’t have a gag reflex.” Feeling proud of your little feat, you sucked harshly, making Jungkook’s head fall back in pleasure. Somewhere in there, you swore you heard Yoongi mumble, “fuck, that’s hot,” under his breath.
“I’m cumming, Princess.” You felt him pull out of your mouth and use his hand to get his release. “Open your mouth,” Jungkook commanded. Just the sheer tone of his voice made you eagerly stick out your tongue, awaiting his next move. He moaned as he came, his release staying mainly on your tongue but escaping to your chin and down to your chest. “Look at the little cum slut so eager to please,” Yoongi chuckled, his thumb coming to wipe the excess off your chin and bringing it to your mouth. “Open up, Princess.” You took Yoongi’s thumb in your mouth and sucked, trying to make his facade break. “You can show me what that little mouth of yours can do later. Right now, it’s Jungkook’s turn, Kitten.” Listening to Yoongi, you turned to see Jungkook already shirtless and working on his skinny jeans. You gawked at his muscles, admiring how well built he was. “Shit,” you whispered under your breath, imagining Jungkook fucking you up against your bedroom wall. His strong arms hold you up while his hips thrust into you at an inhuman pace.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Princess.” Back in reality, Jungkook was already stripped and standing in front of you. “Nothing, sir.” “Now don’t lie or you won’t get what you want.” You gulped nervously and spoke. “I was thinking about you f-fucking me against the wall.” Your voice was hushed and raw but Jungkook still smirked, hearing you clearly. “Your wish is my command.” Before you could speak, his hands were already helping you to your feet. He pulled you into a kiss that started out soft, his teeth occasionally nibbling at your bottom lip. “Jump.” As soon as your legs wrapped around his body, the kiss became rougher and needier. Your hands tangled into his hair, and your back hit the cold wall, making you whine. With his strength, he gingerly slid you onto his length. The sound of his skillful hips slapping against your skin soon filled the room as Jungkook set to work on covering your neck in his marks. You moaned when he found your sweet spot. “Found it,” he said with a small chuckle. He continued his assault on your neck, enjoying the sinful sounds you made dangerously close to his ear.
“Sir, I’m going to cum,” you whispered in between marking his neck. “Cum for me, Princess.” Unable to hold back any longer, you bit down onto Jungkook’s neck as you came, your moans being muffled. Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to have a biting kink but it had him pulling out and cumming in seconds. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said breathlessly. Your head laid on his shoulders, tired and worn out. Jungkook laid you onto the bed and watched as you started to drift off, chuckling because they were not done with you. Sleep was only an inch away when you were jolted awake by a tongue against your sensitive clit. You looked down to see Yoongi lazily eating you out, taking his time and ruining any chance of you getting any energy back. “Yoongi,” you whimpered out, earning a small bite on your thigh. “Master, please. I can’t take it. It hurts.” He pulled his head up to look at you with dangerous eyes. “Keep complaining and I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” You threw your head back in defeat as Yoongi continued his assault. After a minute or two, he decided to add one of his fingers, pushing it in slowly. Instinctively, your hips bucked into his fingers to get more friction. Your own fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling when his fingers pushed in.
It was so dirty and filthy the way you were enjoying how your best friend was making you feel. The way his tongue skillfully danced across your clit. The way the sucking and nibbling made you cry out in pleasure. “Did I say you could make noise?” “No but-“ Yoongi looked up at you with a dark, piercing gaze. “Make one more sound, and I’ll punish you.” You almost whimpered at the sound of his harsh tone, but you held it back and nodded your head. “Good girl.” While Yoongi was teasing you, you tried your hardest to not make a sound, biting your lip so hard it almost started to bleed. His lips traveled up your body, placing light, feathery kisses along with marks that would take weeks to disappear. He crashed his lips against yours in a messy make out and you were careful not to make noise. Your hips moved along with his fingers at a fast pace, making the whole scene feel heavenly. Everyone else in the room became non-existent as Yoongi kissed you roughly, sending bolts down to your core. Even as you were making out with him, you still fought the urge to make noise. Yoongi pulled away from the kiss. “Struggling much, kitten?”
With all your strength, you reached up and crashed your lips against his again to stop the whine threatening to slip from your lips. You were so caught up in kissing him, that you didn’t feel his fingers run through your hair. Yoongi waited a few seconds before tugging your hair harshly. A cry escaped your lips as you grabbed the sheets, crumpling up the once pristine purple sheets. Your eyes widened at the realization of what you had just done, broken his only rule. “Master, please. I didn’t mean to.” The pleads of forgiveness slipped out in a broken voice. Yoongi chuckles darkly. “I had one rule, kitten. And you couldn’t even follow it. I’m disappointed. I didn’t want to have to punish you.” “Please. I’ve been a good girl. Don’t do this,” you whined, feeling his fingers work your orgasm closer. Noticing the way you clenched heavily around his fingers, he pulled them out of you. “You sound cute when you beg, kitten. I can’t wait to make you beg me to stop. If you take your punishment like the good girl I know you are, I’ll fuck you until you’re crying. Okay?” You nodded desperately. “Good. You didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”
“On your knees, slut. I’m going to fuck your throat raw,” Yoongi commanded. While you got on your knees and awaited your fate, Yoongi undressed himself. He walked to where you were kneeling for him. You were too busy looking at the floor to notice him, so he yanked your hair to make you look at him. “Now that I have your attention, you ready?” You took a deep breath before nodding at him. He released your hair, but only for a minute. He pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he thrust into your mouth. Yoongi chuckled as drool dribbled out of your mouth and down your chin. His low groans were music to your ears. As he grew closer to his release, his pace got rougher and sloppier. Right before he came, he pulled out of your mouth, breathing heavily. “Master, you didn’t cum,” you forced out, your words not fully forming because of your raw throat. “Listen to that. Babydoll can’t speak properly.” Yoongi threw a smirk towards the two other boys in the room as if saying ‘I did this and you didn’t’. “I don’t want to cum yet because you are going to take it like the little cumslut you are. And you’ll enjoy every minute of it whether you like it or not.”
You mentally smiled, knowing that even though Yoongi was treating you like a slut, he would stop if need be. “Bed. Now.” You immediately stood up and went to the bed, complying to Yoongi’s command. “Face down, ass up,” he enunciated each word, forcing you to do the action by pressing his hand in the middle of your back and pushing down so your back was arched. The bed dipped as he climbed up behind you and prepared himself. The stretch was a little different from Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s dicks. It was slightly longer than Jungkook’s but less girthier and Taehyung just couldn’t compare. Taehyung’s length was a bit shorter and less girthier than both men. It was perfect for causal sex but right now, you wanted to be fucked, destroyed, not able to walk tomorrow. The sound of Yoongi placing harsh smacks on your ass while pounding you face first into the mattress was a sight for the others. Jungkook had gotten his phone out and started to record while Taehyung had grabbed his camera from the other room and took pictures of your fucked out expressions to add to his new keepsake box.
“Let the neighbours hear how good I make you feel, kitten,” Yoongi growled out, focusing on the feeling of you clenching around him. A loud, pornographic moan erupted from your lips, eliciting a smirk from Yoongi. He groaned when he looked at where your cunt was swallowing his dick, pulling it in with a vice-like grip. A word slipped past your mouth, making Yoongi chuckle. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to go faster, kitten?” You tapped the bed, signaling yes as your confirmation words were swallowed into the mattress. Your face went even further into the mattress… if that was even possible. Yoongi thrusted into you at an almost animalistic pace, making you scream into the sheets. “Maybe you should fuck the bitch more often if she screams that loud for you,” Taehyung said, his voice deeper than usual. “Maybe I should. It’s not like you could anyways.” Taehyung clenched his jaw, but opted to not say anything. “Are you going cum all over my dick for me, Kitten?” Knowing you couldn't answer, Yoongi continued to thrust into you harshly, edging you closer to your limit. “Yoongi,” you yelled out as he continued his relentless pace through your orgasm, immediately overstimulating you.
“I’m not stopping until I cum, little brat.” He flipped you over onto your back and repositioned you so that your leg was on his shoulder and the other was against your chest. Tears spilled from your eyes as he ignored your pleas. His hips stuttered as he came inside of you, thrusting a little more to milk himself of every last drop before he fell beside you. “I did too much work,” he huffed out. “Pfft. A good fuck goes all night. A mediocre fuck goes one round,” Taehyung teased, riling up the mint haired boy. “I never said I couldn’t go more rounds, I just said I’m done doing the work.” While the two bickered back and forth, Jungkook was already making his way over to you, wheeling in the chair. With the last bit of strength you had, you climbed into his lap. “How are you feeling, princess?” He asked sweetly. You laid your head on his shoulder, tired. “Sore and tired,” you sighed out, placing a soft kiss on his neck. Jungkook placed a kiss on your forehead and allowed you to rest for a minute or two. “Don’t go to sleep yet. We aren’t finished with you,” he said softly but yet something about it was hot. Discreetly, his hands moved your bottom half against his growing problem. “Sir, please. Five more minutes.” Jungkook sighed sharply. “But I need to be in you.” You lifted yourself up and allowed Jungkook to slip his dick into your sensitive heat.
“Don’t move.” While he didn’t enjoy orders from you, he did enjoy the warmth of your tight walls around his length. Caught up in the passion and slowness of the moment, you kissed Jungkook. You kissed him slowly and passionately, not rough like you did when he was taking you against the wall. His hands laid upon your waist, holding you close. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck as you continued your soft make out session. You were so into the kiss that you didn’t realize a few things. A)Jungkook had started moving, going against your instructions. B) Yoongi was watching what was going on. C) Taehyung was now behind you, trailing his fingers up your body as he sucked marks on your neck and shoulder bone. Feeling Taehyung behind you, sucking and biting at your neck, made you kiss Jungkook with a little bit more rush. “Let’s turn you around, babydoll.” Careful, not to move too much, you turned around and came face to face with two dicks. “We’ll give Jungkook the pleasure of finishing off in you last, but I want your mouth, babydoll. Let me see what had the others coming so fast.”
Yoongi looked at you expectantly, clearly not wanting to be left to help himself. Your hand wrapped around his dick and began to pump his length. Taehyung on the other hand, had tapped your lips with his fingers making you open up. He slid his dick in easily and you hollowed your cheeks before bobbing your mouth up and down. Jungkook, noticing that you were preoccupied, took matters into his own hands by bucking his hips up into you, causing you to moan around Taehyung. The vibrations against his length made Taehyung groan out and you were pretty sure the neighbours could hear and knew exactly what was going on. “I’m taking over, okay Babydoll?” You looked up at him through your blown out eyes and nodded. His long fingers grabbed a hold of your hair and the back of your head, pushing you down to meet his thrust. He did this a couple of times to test the waters before picking up the speed almost making you gag at times. The hand that was working Yoongi stuttered as you tried to focus on the two things that were fucking into you and he quickly lost patience, taking matters into his own hands.
Yoongi started fucking into your hand at the same pace as Taehyung, imagining that it was your skillful tongue working him and not a measly hand. Your knees quickly grew painful at the hard cracked leather scraping and scratching at them but you pushed through. In your bliss, you looked up and saw Taehyung become a groaning mess as he felt his high near. His face was contorted with pleasure as his hands grabbed whatever was nearest to him which happened to be your desk. Yoongi was close by, moaning out your name as you struggled to keep your hand shaped for him. Jungkook wasn’t far behind as he had been edging himself during the time Yoongi was fucking the life out of you. You weren’t as close as the others and you were counting on one of them to help you. “I’m coming, babydoll,” Taehyung choked out. You swallowed the drool that had form in your mouth around him to make room for the next thing. His large hand pushed your head down all the way and released down your throat effectively making you gag. He pulled away, exhausted and went to grab some lotion and towels.
You felt Yoongi’s thumb grab up the excess cum from your mouth and wiped it on your bottom lip. You were going to lick it off to tease him but Jungkook hit just right and had your head falling back against his shoulder. “Sir, more please.” “Yoongi isn't finished yet.” A whine fell from your lips but you set to work making your hand meet Yoongi’s thrusts. You leaned down to where his dick poked through and kitten licked the tip each time it came through. “Shit. Keep doing that and I won’t be able to hold back.” A few more thrusts or so of doing that and he was cumming. Bits of it were all over your neck and face and some landed on your breasts. The entire picture was lewd. Before Yoongi could get affected by the scene again, he rushed to get the bath running. “It’s just you and me, princess.” With ease, Jungkook went faster while you slammed your hips down to meet his. “Jungkookie, I’m cumming!” “Cum for me, Princess.” He had neared his high right as you had and you both came at the same time. You shut your eyes, tired, sore and hungry. A scream came from the doorway.
“What the fuck?” The new voice had Taehyung and Yoongi running, only Yoongi had the decency to wear a towel around his waist. “YOONGI? Oh my god! I’ll come back later. Have fun.” “Jimin-ah.” Yoongi called him, effectively making the boy turn and stare. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll break you.” Jimin smiled sheepishly knowing he would die if he didn’t listen. “I believe you. I mean, you already broke our best friend. Wait, is she still your best friend or….” “Go wait in the living room.” You gave a weak smile as you heard Jimin laugh down the hallway, running from Yoongi. “Let’s get you two in the bath.” The voice wasn’t registering in your head but you felt yourself being lifted up and placed in the hot bath. Not long after, you felt another body enter the tub. “Come cuddle me, Princess.” “No, we are washing you guys up.” You felt hands placing soap in your hair, washing it before moving onto your body. “She’s tired, Taehyung.” “We all fucked her pretty good.” “Correction, I did.” “Shut up Kook.” “You, Tae.” You chuckled at the boys and let whoever was washing you, continue. “Come on, up you go.” It was Yoongi washing you with such gentleness. He wrapped a towel around you as soon as he helped you stand up. “Let’s go get you some clothes,” he spoke softly which was a nice change from all the times before.
You walked out to the living room in Jungkook's shirt and a pair of loose shorts and nothing else. With the help of the walls, you walked out to Jimin and sat beside him. “One of the boys couldn’t have helped you out here?” “I could do it myself, I’m a big girl,” you said weakly. “Yes you are. So tell me….” You looked at him expectantly, not knowing what was going to be said. “How were they? Especially Yoongi! Was he as big and good as he claimed to be?” The way Jimin threw question after question and cutely stared at you waiting for the answers made you laugh. “They were good and Yoongi is way better and bigger than what he said he was.” The two of you got lost in conversation when the other three came out to sit on the couch and chairs. “I hear you talking good things about Yoongi and Jungkook but what about me?” “You were okay,” you teased Taehyung who pouted. Still hazy from the sex, you leaned over and kissed him. “Did you just kiss me?” “Was I not allowed to?” You question, curious as to why not right now, just minutes after they were all kissing and making out with you. “What are we?” Jungkook asked. “Whatever you guys want to be,” you shrugged, down with being in a relationship or a friends with benefits situation or even just friends and this never happened. The room was silent with people thinking of what to call this.
Yoongi spoke up first. “I’m okay with all of us being in a relationship.” “You’re suggesting polyamory?” You asked, watching his head nod. “I’m down!” All four heads turned to look at the enthusiastic Jungkook already eyeing you. “All you guys need is Taehyung,” Jimin pointed out. “Yeah, I’m good with it. I have more chances to prove myself now.” You threw the pillow at Taehyung and laughed when it hit his head. “Shut up.” “How about no?” “Wait, so this means that I can do couply things with you guys and kiss you and be alone with you?” Yoongi nodded. “Yeah but don’t kiss me in public. Don’t need Jimin getting jealous.” “Yah! I’m not jealous. You’re mediocre at best, hyung.” You smacked Jimin’s chest making him wince. “Don’t say anything you don’t know.” “Oh yeah, I forgot. You’re an expert on Yoongi now,” he joked, sticking his tongue out at you. “I am. And I am an expert on Taehyung and Jungkook. Got a problem?” “No. You aren’t an expert on me so we are good.” You painfully crossed your arms standing your ground. “Oh yeah? Should I tell them about the 3 am Dream calls where you interrupt my sleep talking about your sex dreams?” Jimin’s eyes went wide. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll go order Chinese as a sorry.” The four of you laughed as you watched Jimin scurry off to order food. “Hey, princess?” You turned towards Jungkook only to be met by a quick kiss. “Meanie.”
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keeksybee · 1 year
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Headcannon: Rick does Morticia’s hair
If anyone has ever seen concept of Morticia/Milly/whatever people call female Morty, she’s generally depicted as having long brown, wavy hair which I totally vibe with, however she also often depicted with said waist length hair down or held up by a hair band, and as anyone with long hair will tell you in the most loving way possible, that’s bullshit, especially with all the portal jumping and running for your life your bound to do as a Rick’s companion, you’re not leaving your hair down in a million years, it’s gets in your face and mouth if it’s windy or you’re running, it gets caught in clothing, doorways and zippers, if it’s not up it gives people something to pull ect, Morticia here as a experienced young woman with long hair is putting it up in something practical before she leaves the house, until the day she doesn’t.
The day Rick drags her through a portal before she can get her hair tie into place and drops it is a fucking terrible one, cue an adventure that she spends constantly tucking her hair behind her ears, quite rightly bitching out about her obscured field of vision and how limp and unattractively greasy it looked after an afternoon fleeing death, its embarrassing, it looks like she doesn’t take care of herself, she feels sweaty and gross and just wants to go home, and her bitching eventually works, Rick can see she’s actually humiliated, and even though he won’t admit it he cares for her and adventures are no fun if she genuinely doesn’t want to be there. From then on Morticia notices he keeps spare hair ties in the ship and an emergency can of dry shampoo, he won’t acknowledge he’s obviously doing it for her, but it makes her smile.
Then she forgets again, she’s squinting into the side mirror of the ship trying to put her hair into something that doesn’t look so off putting, cursing under her breath because it just won’t sit right and promptly hits her face off the dashboard as Rick brings the ship to a complete stop.
“What the hell was that for!”
“Hand me the hair tie kid”
“What?”
“Hand me the damn hair tie”
“Fine” she flicks it over at him, he sits himself behind her, picking a hairbrush out of a drawer she’s never noticed before and starts brushing through the frizz more gently than she’d ever expected he could be be, separating her hair and deftly pleating it, pulling the base a little then tapping his watch which came up with a digitalised image of the back of her head.
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“Holy shit”
“Yeah Dawg”
“Where did you learn to do that?”
Rick averts his eyes, going little pink at the cheeks “Your Mother used to get me to do her hair for her dance recitals, it was the one thing your Grandmother just couldn’t get the hang of”
“Aww, that’s sweet Rick”
“Shut up, and don’t you dare mention this at dinner or I’ll leave you on a deserted ice world in gamma 4”
Ahh, classic Sanchez. She thinks.
“Point taken, god, we finally have a normal Grampa/Granddaughter moment and you have to fuck it up by saying that”
“Bite me bitch”
“You know what! Screw you Rick”
“Tell it to someone who cares”
“Fine!” She crosses her arms, sitting back in her seat, gaze fixed out the window, Rick assumed she was moping, he didn’t see the smug, self satisfied grin inch its way across her face, playing with the ends of her plait as she stared into the galaxy.
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silastheshort · 1 year
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at&t, why in the hell would i be car camping if im looking to watch a movie? and howd they pop that popcorn? on a campfire? how long did she have to wait to be able to hold the bowl? did they use another bowl? it looks like theyre "glamping," and, kids, ill be honest- that car looks like it has the back seats up, so i highly doubt they've got enough space to hold supplies enough for glamping, let alone extra popcorn-popping bowls or dishwashing means. and, yes, the car has to be running for the wifi to work. i mean, are they just gonna let the car run all night? are they sleeping in there? are they just here for one night? could whatever theyre watching not wait one day?? so many questions, and "mobile hotspot" answers approximately 0 of them.
better for long drives, when your passengers are a bunch of gamers. LAN party on the go, baby. i mean, i guess who the fuck knows? one of them probably likes to drive while the other just wants to game. from their faces, looks like shes over there like "bro, isnt audry hepburn just the baddest of bitches??" and the dudes like "my wow team is raiding tonight, and im missing it. but sure. audry hepburn's a babe. (christ, the things you gotta do for love...)"
overall, 9/10 image. leaves ya wondering. point taken off because that man is holding the beer with his hands like he wants to warm it up. are his hands too hot? is he trying to hide the logo, or something? probably that one, because he's embarrassed that its a shitty beer.
NOT TO MENTION THE-
jesus fucking christ. i must be stopped.
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reidslibrarybook · 3 years
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(Bull) Riding into the Sunset
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Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Warnings - language, kissing, alcohol consumption, mention of bloody nose and bruised eye (lmk if i missed any)
Summary - Spencer’s loved you since the moment he met you, always wondering what he had to do to get your attention. What he didn’t know was that he’s always had it all along.
Category - fluff
Word Count - 3.9k
A/N - woah i did not mean for this to be that long but the idea is kinda wacky and i kinda love the idea or spencer in this fic. I def imagine s1 spencer for this lmao. THANK YOU TO MY BELOVED @samuel-de-champagne-problems for helping me out with this one as she always does, she’s the best 😌. i am praying this is gonna show up in the tags cuz tumblr is just being a bitch apparently lmao.
masterlist
join my taglist here!
——————————————
Spencer was never one to talk, not as much as he wanted to.
It was in his best interest to keep quiet, at least that’s what he grew up relying on. Every position he had been put in was one that shined a bright spotlight on him, attracting all the attention and pointing everyone’s curiosities right to him. He had already been singled out, excluded— he didn’t need any more eyes on him as it was.
The attention only ever brought him years of torment and bullying, something he didn’t enjoy in the slightest. The tears that rolled down his face had solidified into a fear of being on a stage yet again. There was never a time where he could be himself without facing the repercussions of individuality.
So when he joined the BAU, hiding in the shadows and curt responses were his favorite pastime. It may have put people off but it was what he had to do to survive because that’s all he’s ever known…
Survival of the fittest.
But all the manuals and directions in his brain were rewritten when he met you. He found himself craving your looks, your words. All he wanted was for you to talk to him so he could hear your voice just once more. He was an addicted, ever-hungry man that craved nothing but you.
You were kind and beautiful in his eyes and the eyes of many others. Maybe he had taken such a liking to you because of your lending ear. It was always hard for him to find someone willing to listen to him who wasn’t his mother, let alone enjoy what he was rambling on and on about. You were the outlier in a sea of the disinterested, a genuine star that shined through the void that had formed in his heart.
He knew he was too far gone the moment he went to bed that one fateful night, the image of you dancing around him refusing to fade in his restless mind. He soon found himself thinking about you and only you, desperate for your sweet love…
Your gentle touch.
Your tender care.
He was no longer the shy, quiet genius in the back— showing off his rare memory or high IQ. Every giggle he elicited from you was cherished, held close to his heart and even closer to his soul. All he wanted to do was make you smile like no other person had, to make you just as happy as you made him.
You were the one that kept him invigorated, unknowingly encouraging him to crawl out of the shell he retreated into the moment he stepped foot into high school so many years ago.
“Kid.”
Spencer looked over to Derek who sat in the driver’s seat of the car, glancing over at him quickly and turning his attention back to the road with furrowed brows.
“You’re gonna poke a hole through the floor of my very expensive car if you keep tapping the way you are,” he said, a cautiously curious tone laced through his voice.
Spencer slinked into his leather seat timidly. “Sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed to be called out by someone he greatly admired for his charisma and charm.
“No worries, kid,” Derek laughed, “What’s got your mind all up in a jumble?”
“Nothing,” he blurted quickly, hoping that the lie that fell freely would be easily brushed off.
Derek chuckled, “Right… nothing. Is ‘nothing’ the secret code name you have for Y/N?”
“Wh- what?” Spencer stuttered, laughing slightly to play off Derek’s ridiculous question, “O- of course not.”
“So you… didn’t drop your mug of coffee when she walked by? And you didn’t fall down three steps of stairs just looking at her?”
“I was um, I was distracted by um,” he tried to think of something plausible, but the two of them knew that nothing would stun him as much as you did, “I was distracted by-”
Derek laughed, “Distracted by Y/N.”
“No! No, I- I wasn’t,” he had trouble finding his words and excuses to deflect his laughable attempt to hide the truth, “I- I swear, I don’t love her.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little office romance, Reid. I quite like watching my very own rom-com, it’s just you fumbling around her all day every day,” he admitted, pulling into the bar’s parking lot.
“I-,” a ravenous blush appeared on his face, “I don’t fumble around her.”
Derek unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Spencer directly. “Yes, you do,” he sighed, “Look, she’s not gonna be around forever. Shoot your shot before you lose the chance.”
With his final words of wisdom, Derek exited the car leaving Spencer in shambles. He was right, you wouldn’t be around forever. It was inevitable that someone would come to scoop you up, smashing the little glass dream of you in his arms and discarding the broken shards on the cold ground. There would come a time where he wouldn’t receive your smiles the same way, all the little flirty teases you sent in his direction would cease to exist as your heart was stolen by another.
Maybe there was something he could do before he lost his chance, a way he could prevent the inevitable from happening… or rather, become the inevitable.
Determination ran through his veins, stepping out of the car and marching straight into the bar. There was no hesitation in his body as every fiber of his being wished to be with you, every stray worry was deteriorated by the infectious feelings for you that resided inside him. It was then that he realized that the chains made up of his fear of rejection were broken by a new one: living in a world where your heart wasn’t free for him to take.
“Reid!”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and found Morgan waving with Garcia and the rest of the team by their side, everyone except for you. He made his way over and plopped down into the seat next to Hotch, still slightly intimidated by his monotone voice and stoic face.
“Didn’t think you were coming in, Pretty Boy,” Derek teased.
“Oh no,” Penelope shouted from across the table, trying to reach him over the blaring music, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Derek hinted, “He’s just contemplating his little crush on-”
“No! I- I’m not contemplating anything I was just- I was um, I was calling my- my mom,” he sputtered, readily aware that he just offered a team of the best profilers in Virginia the most pathetic lie.
“Uhuh, and how is your mom?” Hotch asked, one of his eyebrows raised.
“G- good.”
Spencer saw Gideon smile slightly as he drank his scotch, trying to ignore the little laughs that came from the people around him. He looked around for you, your absence clearly enunciated with the empty chair in between Penelope and Elle. It was apparent who he was looking for, Derek immediately noticing his pout and nodding towards something behind him. Spencer turned around as his heart fell at the sight of you talking to someone who was much more attractive, and probably interesting, than he was. It was heartbreaking.
Maybe it was too late.
A chance at redemption lost to the hands of another.
—————————————
Time flew by as the rest of the team, minus Hotch who wanted to relax with his whiskey and Gideon who decided to go home and watch the rest of his bird documentaries, filed out to the dance floor right next to the mechanical bull ring. Spencer had the time of his life sitting there watching you be swept off your feet and the rest of his friends laughing with unadulterated joy. He sighed, trying to swallow the rest of his alcoholic beverage that served to distract him from the fracturing of every delicate feeling inside him.
It was a far-fetched pipe-dream but it was a nice change from his defaulted outlook, hopeless. His life had taught him nothing but hardship, having to adapt and grow to accommodate how painful it was. He never felt like he had to repress anything about him with you, something he enjoyed as your company remedied every wound and erased every scar. He didn’t feel the need to put up armor, only one to run into your arms with every lit ember that was fueled by his feelings for you.
Though, it seemed like the light inside him dimmed slightly at the sight of you beaming with another. He never thought that luck had never been on his side and watching you look at someone else the same way you looked at him, bright with a little glimmer of beauty in your eye, was a nightmare.
“You should go talk to her.”
His heart nearly leaped out of his chest, surprised by the deep monotone voice that sounded beside him. Spencer looked up from the little paper umbrella in his hands and up to the man next to him, Hotch.
“I- I don’t know what you’re-” Spencer let the walls crumble down as the picture of his perfect fantasy was ruined, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” He asked blatantly, unfazed by Spencer’s hesitance.
“She’s with someone else and I don’t want to ruin what she could have with him.” Every single insecurity and doubt in your interest in him had bubbled to the surface, encouraged by the alcohol he had continuously consumed throughout the night.
Hotch shifted slightly to look over his shoulder, turning his head back to Spencer shortly after. “Doesn’t look like she’s with anyone right now,” he stated outwardly.
“I- I don’t know,” Spencer sighed, exhaling the air that hazed his brain, “I’m afraid.”
“That’s exactly how I felt before I asked Haley out on a date and now we’re having a baby,” he chuckled.
Spencer looked up, not expecting the man who usually spat out orders like a lieutenant speak about something so… casual.
“Not that I think you’re going to have a baby with her. I just,” he stopped to recollect his thoughts, “I’m just saying that it’s not too late to talk to her about what you’re feeling. Do you love her?”
Spencer nodded without any uncertainty, you were the subject of his every dream and that would never change.
“Alright,” Hotch smiled at his eagerness, “Do you love her enough to take on the risks? Every single thing is worth it if you’re willing.”
Were you worth the risk?
Yes, without a shadow of doubt.
Hotch smiled, nodding at the clear answer on his face. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Spencer looked over to you sitting at the bar by yourself, swirling your drink and smiling at your friends who were gracing the dance floor with their very disgraceful moves. With a single look back to Hotch, Spencer left his seat and stumbled over the slippery bar floor all the way to you.
He was nervous, but when was he not when you were involved? “Spencer!” Your face lit up as soon as he made his way over, “I didn’t know you were here already.”
“H- hi,” he couldn’t compose himself around you, a common occurrence whenever he was near you, “I um, I came with Derek.”
You nodded, moving your purse from the stool next to you onto your lap. He smiled, awkwardly sitting next to you— finally feeling the burdensome ramifications of the drink he took comfort in. Every feeling inside him was heightened, he could hear the sound of his heart pounding and the tightness in his chest had been amplified to feel like all the air trapped in his lungs was sucked out.
“I missed you at work today,” you nudged him slightly to draw his eyes whose gaze was set on the floor, up to your face, “I didn’t get to see my favorite handsome genius.”
He looked up and you laughed slightly, amused by the boyish grin on his face and the deep red blush rooted deep within his skin.
“I’m the only genius you know.”
You shook your head, a stunning smile gracing your lips. “And how are you so sure?”
“Because you said that you’ve never met a certified genius until you met me,” he laughed, the heat in the bar finally catching up with him.
“That’s fair,” you giggled, “Even if I knew another genius, I don’t think anyone would be able to top you.”
There it was again, the aching in his heart— the longing to be yours. Just as he was about to continue the conversation, your eyes shifted from looking at him to something behind him. Spencer turned around, seeing the man you were speaking with before waving vigorously to get your attention. He was immediately infuriated that Spencer had taken his spot, the veins on his neck and face bulging out looking at him. To compensate, he stepped right in front of spencer— placing his body in between you and him.
“Hey there, let me buy you another drink,” he spoke, feigning a suave tone.
Spencer rolled his eyes as he tried to wave away the cheap cologne that attacked him. With a spur of confidence, probably initiated by the liquor in his system, Spencer tapped the man behind him after pushing up his glasses.
“We were having a conversation,” he hissed, “It’s rude to interrupt someone while they’re speaking to another person.”
“Back off, kid,” he spat, the endearing nickname given to him by Derek no longer so pleasant, “Go color in your little books or drink your tiny juice boxes. You belong in a daycare, a bar is no place for you.”
“I- I don’t, I don’t”
“You can’t even speak, go bother someone else.” The man in front of him blocked Spencer out of your view. Before you could catch him, he had already left the seat next to you.
You looked around, unable to find him anywhere in the poorly lit building. A sigh fell from your lips as you muted whatever came from the man next to you, the only one you had any interest in talking to nowhere in sight.
“Hey, darlin’” he called out for you, “How about we get out of here, away from all the pesky little people. Just us.”
You grimaced at the thought of a night spent with someone who probably used all-in-one shampoo and lived with his mother. “No thanks, I’d rather-”
You were caught off guard when a spotlight lit up the center of the bar, drawing your attention directly towards the one person you were looking for… Spencer.
A voice boomed through the speakers above you. “Alright folks, we’ve got a new rider tonight. What’s your name son?”
Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes flicking between you and the microphone. “U- um, m- my name’s Spencer Reid,” he stuttered.
“Alright, Spencer Reid. How long do you plan to stay on for?”
“What’s the um, the time to beat?” Spencer loosened his tie, your eyes shooting daggers at him.
“The longest time anyone’s ever stayed on for is 13.7 seconds,” the operator chuckled.
Spencer nodded, scrunching his nose as he weighed the probabilities in his head. “I’ll stay on for 15 seconds.”
“Quite a goal you got there,” everyone around him laughed, everyone except for you and the rest of the team, “Well, Spencer Reid, good luck.”
A swarm of people crowded by the base of the ring, waiting on his impending downfall. He glanced down at all the onlookers, waiting for him to fail just as all his peers did in school. Reminded of all the malicious teasing, his conviction wavered. There were too many people counting on him to end up a mess, a feeling that hit too close to his home in Las Vegas. Spencer met your concerned eyes, remembering what Hotch said earlier.
Were you worth the risk?
Yes.
He nodded at the operator, giving you a reassuring smile before the bull began to move slowly. The first few seconds were bearable, the machine beneath him picking up speed and his tenacity with it. He held his firm belief that he would be able to make it fifteen seconds on the bull, if not more. If it was what he had to do to get your attention then so be it.
“Spencer!” You yelled, pushing your way through the horde of people, “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m riding a bull,” he shouted over the rodeo music, enjoying the little rocking motions that began to become more sporadic.
The people around you began to count with each passing second, the force of the bull’s rock increased— Spencer flopping back and forth with it. He only had to hold on for fifteen seconds, but what he didn’t account for was his alcohol consumption. He squeezed the reigns with all of his force, staying on as his vision blurred from how fast he was turning.
Ten.
You looked around, making eye contact with Derek and the others. Your heart raced as you worried for Spencer, he was already accident-prone— god knows what would happen when someone as clumsy as him attempted to sit on the bull.
Eleven.
“What is he doing?” You asked Hotch who had managed to squeeze through the crowd over to you.
Twelve.
“Taking a risk,” he sighed, exhausted by both of your obliviousness.
Thirteen.
“You told him to do this?”
Fourteen.
“When I told him to do something,” he yelled over the noise, “This isn’t what I had in mind.”
Fifteen.
Right as the number sounded in his ears, Spencer let go of the reign. Everyone around you gasped, the sounds of ‘ow’ and ‘ooo’ sounding off of every person. You rushed through the crowd to catch up with him as he was dragged out by the on-site EMT.
“Y/N!” He waved, taking the cotton pad handed to him by the EMT.
“Spencer,” you said, relieved. You inspected him, looking at the blood that dripped from his nose and the bruise starting to form on his eye, “Are you insane, you got hurt. What were you thinking?”
“I was…” he took a deep breath and cleared his foggy brain, “I was jealous that you were talking to someone else so I wanted to show you that I could be fun too. Not just the weird nerdy guy at work or the skinny guy who wears sweater vests and looks like he could be in high school.”
You shook your head, smiling softly. “You didn’t have to do all of that, Spence. I love the silly Spencer that does physics magic at his desk and I love the same nerdy man that talks about the little improbabilities in Star Wars and I especially love the dumb genius that does silly things to get my attention. You never have to do any of that, not when you’ve always had my attention.”
“I just wanted to-” he backtracked when he finally processed what you had said, “Wait, what?”
“Spencer,” you giggled, pushing back a piece of his hair that had fallen to cover his face, “I was talking to that guy to pass the time until you came. You are the only person I’m even remotely interested in talking to, you’ve always been my favorite person and you always will be my favorite person to talk to. I love you.”
“I- I love you too?”
“You say that as if it’s a question,” you chuckled.
“W- well I’m not sure if you’re there yet,” he mumbled, wincing slightly as the man beside you treated his eye.
“I’ve always been there, I was just waiting on you, Einstein.” You leaned in to give a kiss on the cheek, a light dusting of pink painting his cheeks.
Before you could pull away fully, Spencer turned his head and pressed his lips right onto yours. Suddenly, every hazy thought was cleared with a clarifying sense of home. The fears and worries and plaquing nightmares of not belonging were dispersed because he finally found where he fit in and it was with you.
Years before he was always bouncing around alone, unable to find a place to stay. There was never a place where he clicked but you helped him realize that he wasn’t the one that needed to change.
Your lips moved with the other as your hearts fluttered like the excited wings of a hummingbird, the feeling of his soft hands brushing through your hair acting as a defibrillator to your once still heart. You reciprocated his eagerness, stepping forward and leaning down to deepen something that had been long awaited. He was clearly overjoyed by your action, grabbing your waist and pulling you further into him.
You giggled, melting in his touch as his selfish hands grappled onto your hips for purchase.
The sound of someone clearing their voice came from behind you. Spencer pulled away, hitting his head on the back of the booth in the process.
Hotch stepped up, accessing the awkward atmosphere. “How are you doing, Reid?”
“G- good. I’m good,” he sputtered.
“Good,” he looked to you, observing your swollen lips as you fidgeted with your fingers. “I’ve given everyone tomorrow off, tonight has been… eventful and I want to make sure everyone isn’t coming to work hungover.”
“Y- yes, sir.”
“Alright, well you two have a good rest of your night,” he said, walking away with a smile that he’d never let you see.
“Well, now that you’re all cleaned up I guess I should take you back home,” you said, helping him up and straightening out the glasses on his nose.
He nodded, ignoring the dirty glare he had received after you both walked by the man that tried to take you home earlier. You struggled to get him into your car, buckling him in and hopping into the driver’s seat. He looked over to you lovingly, placing a tender kiss onto your cheek while you drove.
You laughed, “You could’ve done that instead of hopping onto a bull, Spence. Out of all things, what made you choose to ride a mechanical bull to get my attention when anything else would have worked.”
“I was jealous and upset that that guy basically called me a kid in front of you,” he conceded, “I wanted to show him that I could last longer than him.”
You rolled your eyes in disbelief.
“And I can… in more ways than one,” he continued nonchalantly.
You widened your eyes at his words, stunned by his suggestive implications. “Slow your roll, cowboy. I-”
Spencer stopped you with another simple kiss to your cheek and suddenly the roles were reversed. He was the one in control of you, stealing the words out of your mouth with nothing but the feel of his lips on your mind. He reached over to grab your free hand while you drove, sitting back down in his chair and feeling your racing pulse up against his skin. He knew that there was nothing for him to worry about as he noticed the brightly lit smile on your face and the pounding of your heart.
And just as it was in his dreams, the two of you rode off into the sunset waiting for the rest of your adventures to unfold.
—————————————-
taglist:
@69ieatchildren69 @lil-stark @gublur @mrsobrien888 @nightlockcornucopia @drayshadow @spencerrrrrrreidsbae @luvhoneyt @samuel-de-champagne-problems @theupsidedownkiss @reidsbookclub @acoolnight @whytf2457 @lonewolf471 @bakugouswh0r3 @mess-in-side @draw-back-your-bow @ssa-uglywhore27 @averyhotchner @strugglingtodoshit @spookydrreid @nomajdetective @exhaleli @ssahotchslover @bohemianrhapsody86 @citylights31 @the-winchesters-and-weasleys @reidselle @baubaes @pastelbabygirl19 @lorefulll @happymangospot @alexxavicry @malboroniightz @sunset-styles @reidsplaytoy @i-wanna-be-conan-obrien @raybutcool @lhhluvr @vxnuette @reidsmilf @reidsacademia @spencerreidat3am
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Text
c3e33
We've already split the party. This is gonna go great.
The Call doesn't seem to have very many spellcasters.
The assailants have taken one of the walls of the Seat of Disdain, and they're attacking from on top of it by lobbing attacks over and taking cover behind the parapets.
"I'll reach out to cast Spare the Dying, but I'll hesitate, because I don't know what it'll do to me." .....huh. But they're fine with casting shield of faith.
The Treshi boxes are broken open and they have "dozens of small crystal vials, about a foot long" with "dark, viscous gray liquid." Both Fearne and Ashton got some of them.
Looks like Fearne took a 6th level in druid!
It looks like all these explosions are from literal explosives and gunpowder, not from spells. The attackers are heavily wrapped in cloth and cloaks, to a point where it seems intentionally vague, and they are predominantly using firearms.
Oh fuck this was a distraction to get Treshi, wasn't it? There's an unconscious guard and their keys are already gone.
It's Artana Vo! I fucking knew it!
She's a ranger with the Hunter archetype, and is at least 7th level.
That's like 4 natural 20s in this sequence alone. I can't wait to see when and how fast this pendulum is gonna swing
Vo was going to take Treshi back to Jrusar, just like the Hells, and is now loosely helping them! Which further reinforces my thinking that Orym seeing her was Matt throwing them a bone and giving them an alternative path to the same goal.
Oh my god the controls of the skirmish crawlers are like those lawn mowers that you ride and drive with the bars
Fearne got one of the Cerberus Assembly boxes!!
jesus fucking christ
Otohan is just standing up there on a balcony, watching the chaos, when Laudna climbs up the front of the fortress with spider climb into her fucking face and casts darkness. this is INSANE and one of the most cinematic things to happen in this campaign so far
Laudna has planted the tracking ring on Otohan Thull.
"Whoever you are, your timing is curious."
I didn't see it before, but I'm definitely getting sense now that Orym is desperately looking for a leader and desperately trying not to let himself be a leader.
Ashton rage build update: Ashton can open a portal to a space adjacent to the target of their attack, but it expends a use of their Chaos Burst ability. They don't seem to be able to open a portal unless they attack.
Otohan is waiting for them outside the Seat of Disdain. "Let's have a conversation, shall we?" "Three shadowy versions of herself appear around her, wearing dark leathers somehow darker than her own."
This sounds similar to what an Echo Knight can do, but they can only ever have 2 echoes at a time (which they get at 18th level).
break time!
These shadowed versions of her move independently, so they're not from the mirror image spell, and they're the same as the assassins in Zephrah. They also have veeeeery low HP.
Otohan appears to also have psychically-oriented power with a save DC higher than 15.
She knows Eshteross to an extent, but so do a lot of people; he used to be a pretty public feature.
FCG's sympathetic binding seems to be hurting them now — they reacted negatively when they gave a bonded blessing to Imogen.
"Perhaps the rest of you are weak, like sheep that bleed for a higher power. You deserve only ashes, then."
Initiative!
Aaaaand there's the pendulum swing.
Yeah, Matt referred to these things as "echoes." So I'm betting that she's an Echo Knight with a couple additional things to give her more of a chance in a 1v7.
No, she's a psi warrior. Protective Field is a 3rd-level psi warrior ability, as is Psionic Strike, and as far as I'm aware you can't multiclass subclasses — so whatever these echoes are, they're not from the Manifest Echo ability, and might not even be dunamancy-based. Maybe they're something to do with that mirror that Yu had, with corrupted versions of fey creatures and Unseelie assassins inside it?
bitch what the fuck??? Matt's talking like she has the Manifest Echo ability, and literally called it that, but she also has psi-powered leap, a 7th-level psi warrior ability. but she's not using the unleash incarnation ability (which echo knights get at the same time as manifest echo), which makes me pretty sure that this is an item or potion that's giving her the ability to do this.
god, Imogen telling Laudna to run in such a breathy and desperate voice while there's a sandstorm swirling around her and purple lightning streaking through red clouds, with Otohan Thull and her assassins darting through the peripheries of her vision like ghosts, just like all of Imogen's dreams......
is this the closest we've ever gotten to a TPK? is this what all you fuckers felt like when you watched the Lorenzo/Tombtakers fights live???
Ashton rage build update: Whenever Ashton brings an enemy below 0 hit points with their space build active, they can teleport up to 60 feet to an unoccupied space they can see.
Imogen started this shit, let's hope she can finish it
Fearne has Enhanced Bond, which means she took a level in druid when she leveled up.
NAT 20 DEATH SAVE
"Not yet, my child. We have much to do."
Okay yeah, pretty sure Otohan's getting this from an item or potion. She's got all the abilities of Manifest Echo but nothing else.
Fearne has Revivify prepared automatically. it's a circle spell for her, it's always prepared. and we know FCG has a diamond. I never wished I had kept track of their spell slots more--
Otohan -> Fearne: "You carry the seed... just not as strong as others'."
"The Moontide Crown. Ira. We know where it is. Do you want it? You have to stop." and a 22 persuasion check by Laudna. "We got a direction. The Panagrip Sands."
Otohan -> Imogen: "You're so close... the more you run from it, the more you lose. There is greatness in you, and our time is soon. Embrace it, or be culled like the rest."
Imogen feels something in her chest, the power and the fear that always accompanies her dreams. "The storm rages in your belly. Do you fight it?" "I'm not losing them to just surrender to you." "'You are not surrendering to me, but to your nature.' That same burning, growing, alluring sensation somewhere deep in your soul, in the very essence of every fiber of your being, is going now, now, and she sees it, there's excitement, like a teacher waiting for a student to have a breakthrough... [You let them go.] 'You give in, or you all die. I only need the strongest of us.'"
"You don't choose to give in, you let go when the time is right."
"That burning in your stomach is screaming. It is bellowing... That call is screaming to you. Do you continue to resist? [I'll go with you.] 'Let go, and give in to your nature.' As that burning storm within you burns up, you feel a tidal surge pulling you under, like the ocean swallowing you up, but it's nothing but red, warm, crackling fury. As it does, the entire landscape around you turns red — the dust storm, the wind, freezes, the sand just frozen in the air. Those of you who are still here notice as the coloration of the city turns a deep, deep red. 'Yes, yes! This is it!' The space around her shakes and adjusts, and as you scream uncontrollably, all that fury and vengeance within, as you unleash it, you watch as the buildings tear away, you are all dragged along with the whirlwind and everything goes white."
aKJHJHDGFKAJHLFDA MATT WHY
I have. Thoughts. to be elaborated upon.
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hotch-stufff · 3 years
Note
Possibly a Hotch imagine where he is dating an artist and he finds her drawing him and Jack ?
Is That Me?
Tumblr media
gif by nerddivision
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Warnings!: none, literally all fluff :), well ig kissing, curse word or two
Description: Hotch finds a drawing you did of him and Jack. Will you tell him how you feel, or brush it off as nothing?
Author's Note: I LOVED this request. I did switch it up a bit, reader is Hotch's best friend. Sorry, I just really wanted to throw a love confession in here!! Hope you guys enjoy reading and I hope its what you wanted!!
------------
You loved to draw. You always have. It was one of your favorite things to do.
You would do it while doing paperwork, or on jet rides. You would draw to help calm you down, or even just to keep yourself busy.
Point is, you were always drawing something.
But you never drew people. Or atleast you never showed others your drawings of people. The whole team knew that.
They never turned out the way that you liked. You would always end up messing up a facial feature. Or you would draw the hands wrong. A number of things would go wrong.
That was until you decided to draw your boss, and best friend, Aaron Hotchner.
It was no secret to the team that you had somewhat of a crush on the man. You hadn't done a good job hiding it. But it was still very oblivious to the man in question.
He had quickly become one of your closest friends after you joined the team. You guys would often hang out at each other's houses on the weekends, or you would just sit around at the park with Jack.
You just loved spending time with eachother. Which had led to the feelings.
But of course you didn't know he had felt the same. The team did though. And of course they were going to meddle. Thats just who they are.
Anyways, you had gotten the idea for the drawing of Hotch about 4 weeks ago.
You had all been at Rossi's for a dinner, children included, and Hotch had been sitting there with Jack in his lap. He had this look of pure adoration as he listened to his son tell a story and he had this bueatiful smile adorning his face. You just couldn't look away.
Now, similar to Reid, you had a photographic memory. It wasn't the same as his eidic memory, but similar.
That image had stayed printed in your brain. You remembered that exactly moment, and it stayed there for 2 weeks before you began drawing.
There was a lot of erasing and starting over. But you kept going. The team would catch glimpses of the drawing, but never enough to know what it actually was. You especially made sure to keep it hidden from Hotch, only working on it in the office when his door was closed.
When you finished the drawing, you put it in the top drawer of your desk, knowing no one would go through it. You kept it there for weeks. Adding bits and pieces here and there to add to the beauty of the drawing. It had probably been one of your best pieces. But you kept it hidden.
Until of course, Morgan found it.
He had seen it in your desk when he went to borrow a pen, without pernission. He had taken it, and walked quickly to Garcia's office. They had been trying to get the two of you together for months.
"Babygirl, I think I just found how we can get them together." He had said walking in without knocking.
"Of course you did." And they worked out a plan, bringing in Prentiss, JJ, Spence, and Rossi.
After planning and then going over everything, everyone gathered in the bullpen. Morgan walked over to you, a little too chipper.
You gave him a suspicious look, co fused as to why he looked so giddy.
"Hey sugar, want me to take your paperwork up?" You looked down at the finished pile of paperwork, and back up at Morgan.
"Suuure." You slowly said. Still very suspicious, but allowing him to take the pile. Soon he was walking off, with his own paperwork as well, marching up to Hotch's office. He opened the door and disappeared from your sight.
With a roll of your eyes, and a lasting glance, you turned away. You had completely forgot about the whole interaction, and had gotten back to work.
You got bored with that quickly and about 2 hours later, you opened the top drawer of y I ur desk, so you could work on your drawing.
Only it wasn't there.
It was gone.
You began frantically searching each and every drawer. Opening and shutting each one as your rummaged through everything. You checked your bag, the trashcan, your floor. You went through each and every piece of paper on your desk.
But it was gone.
"Y/n, is everything okay?" Prentiss asked from across the desk.
"No. Um, I-I lost something."you were freaking out, if anyone saw that, it would be disastrous. You could lose your job, your friendship. And if Hotch every saw it, he would probably think it was creepy.
You continued to search looking through each like of paperwork.
But then you realized. You had sent a pile with Morgan.
Morgan had taken it to Hotch.
Hotch.
Son of a bitch!
You were up and out of your seat in less than a second, sprinting up to Hotch's office and throwing it open.
You expected Hotch to look up in shock. To glance at you. Something.
But he didn't.
He was staring at a piece of paper. With him on it.
How long he had been sitting there staring at it, you didn't know.
"Hotch." You whispered out. But he heard you none the less. He glanced up for a second before glancing back down.
"Is that me?" He asked. The silence that followed was deafening. You didn't answer him. You couldn't.
"Is that me Y/n?" He asked again.
"Yeah. Yes. I'm so sorry Hotch. You weren't supposed to see it." You looked up at him and your eyes locked. He had a tear rolling down his face.
"I-I love it. Its bueatiful." You stared at him waiting for the other show to drop, waiting for the but. Except it never came. He just stood from his desk, marched around it and smashed his lips against yours.
You let out a surprised noise and faltered backwards, but that just caused his to press you into the wall, kissing you harder. It was intimate and everything you had ever dreamed about. He cupped your face, deepening the kiss.
He broke away after a minute or two. You couldn't tell how long it was, the kiss had left you in a daze.
"I love it. I love you." He stuttered out breathlessly. You stared at him in awe. You hadn't expected this kind of reaction. Never in a million years did you think he would feel the same as you did.
"I love you too." You spoke softly. He smiled widely.
"The drawing is so perfect. Its bueatiful. No one has ever drawn me before. And you drew Jack, he looks, he's perfect. Its perfect, you are perfect. God I love y-" you cut him off with another kiss, smiling the entire time.
You were kissing Aaron Hotchner.
You loved Aaron Hotchner.
And he loved you too.
------------
Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! If you would like an idea of what to request, here is my prompt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.
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kissbentennyson · 3 years
Note
I have no idea if you'd do this but I need a nega ben x reader. He's my favorite out of the alternates. A softer one shot would be nice but whatever you're feeling is good too! I'll take any content I can get!
*Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica begins to play* Yeah me too.
Nega Ben x Reader | reader uses they/them pronouns, but dresses femininely.
Spill
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He’d been waiting all day, and I mean, all day. Classes always seemed to drag on and on longer when he wanted something, and sure, he could have skipped. But that would have taken too much effort not to get caught. He isn’t afraid of the cops or the school administration… But dealing with his parents? Yeah, no. Not worth it. He’d b-lined it across Bellwood, all the way to the “café” he frequented. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a café seeing as how they specialize in more smoothie like drinks, but whatever. It has been rather crowded, too crowded, and everyone just wanted to get in then out.
He should have expected to bump or get bumped into someone, but it didn’t dawn on him until his espresso smoothie was all over your bright pink, fuzzy sweater. Both of you stood there with slack jaws and wide eyes as the brown liquid dripped from your chest and down onto an equally as pink lolita-esque skirt. It looked expensive, not in a daddy's money way, in a “I saved up to buy this” way. And so, he was prepared for hell.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry!”
When it left you, Ben was confused. “Gosh, I should have been looking where I was going… But I was too distracted. Ugh, I-” You were flustered , more than actually, embarrassed is the correct word. “Um… Give me a second and I'll buy you a new one…”
“What?”
Watching as you tried to pat away the coffee with one of the recycled paper napkins the café gives out, a million thoughts passed through him. Of course he took the offer, he wanted that coffee. The line was a lot shorter this time around, and got by a lot quicker too. You ordered for him as he zoned out suddenly looking over your shoulder at him. “What?” He asks, watching you get even more flustered. “I just asked if you wanted anything else. Do you?” “Oh, uh, yeah.” he clears his throat, raising his voice. “The kale chips.”
You both walked out together, your head was down and you watched your shoes as you walked. “Again, I’m really sorry.” He glances at you with a slight side eye as he sips on the coffee, this was the gazillionth time you’ve apologized in just the last few minutes. “It’s… whatever.” He lets out a quick and breathy chuckle. “You apologize to me, but I ruined your sweater.” All of the sudden, your embarrassment seemed non-existent. A light and bubbly laugh leaving you. “Ruined? Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine. I've dealt with worse.”
“Anyways! I have to get home and change, It was nice meeting you!”
-
The lunch room was beyond packed, packed like the reunion tour of a popular punk band from the 2000's. The doors and tables overflow with hungry and impatient mouths. You had managed to get in before the rush and snag a serving of less than okay school food, but by the time you got out of line, they had all flooded in. People had no concern for others around them, pushing and shoving like toddlers over toys, and you were getting the brunt of it. Not actually, but it sure felt like it.
You were halfway across the room and were looking around the tables for a free space- but it was too late for that already. A body slams into yours hard, you hit the ground as your food falls and splatters all of the chest of the sweater you had just gotten the coffee stain out of. Feet come down around you as you struggle to get up, the other person now looming over you. “Could you have watched where you were going!?” This whole situation was not intentional, but they had no right to get angry at you for that.
You felt the tips of your ears heat, unable to answer. Her eyes bore down on you as she sways with every passing body bumping into her. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab the back of your sweater and pull you from the ground, as if they were scruffing a cat. “Or, maybe you could stop play fighting with your friends in the cafeteria, like a bitch.” Her jaw drops and her freckled face goes red with embarrassment, obviously on the fact that she can't pawn her mistake off on someone else this time. The voice was rather monotone- in a way- compared to the words spoken. And rather familiar.
When you look up it’s the guy from the café, his neutral expression was a thin vale to hide his irritation- at least to you. His hand still had a grip on the back of your shirt, it was a firm hold, and it made you just a tad bit nervous. You swallow as the person swallows her embarrassment, rolling her eyes desperately to try and hide. “Whatever freak, sorry…” she turns and disappears into the crowd. You watch her do so, completely shocked at the situation at hand. Your lips part to say something, but his grip on your sweater releases, being replaced by an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly, you’re being dragged through the crowd and towards the cafeteria door.
He walks you out into the hallway, which is mostly empty at this point. “Thank you.” you choke out through the lump in your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking with you- and you aren’t in any position to object.
Eventually you reach the stairs. Under it is a mostly empty black backpack, and there’s a light reflection of gold from inside. The weight of his arm leaves your shoulders and he walks ahead, sliding under the stairs and sitting with his back to an old AC unit. You hesitate for a moment, you’ve only met this guy one other time… maybe you should just wait…… nah.
Sliding under the stairs right after him, you sit straight across from the guy. He’s already looked away. “I think we have third period together. Your name is Ben, right?” His phone is already out, and he’s scrolling through it. “Well I'm…” you give him your name, and all he does is look up at you with a nod before going back to his phone. The volume is low, but there are noises coming from it, ones you recognize. “Is that the Sumo Slammers mobile game?” There was no judgement in your voice at all, and suddenly the losing end sound plays.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah?” “My little brother is obsessed with that series. He says that the mobile game isn’t that good, but he still played it to the end.” He let out a little huff like laugh through his nose, pressing the power button and finally giving you his full attention. “Yeah, maybe the old one wasn't that good, but this one is a new release- Doesn’t even have dubbed lines yet.” He clears his throat, slouching a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. “Actually, it’s not fully released in the states yet. I got pre access to the game.” He watches you smile, and suddenly there's a slight tense feeling in his chest.
“That’s really cool, are you a beta tester or something?” He shrugs. “No, and it’s whatever.” He glances away, gaze holding on the wall. “Well I think it’s really cool, especially since it's a series you like.” “How do you know that?” His gaze snaps back to you, suddenly defensive. “Your backpack is open and the sun is reflecting off of the cold backing of the trading cards.” You lazily point to the stairs above you, and there is the reflected image of the symbol on the cards. “Those are the collectors additions, from japan. I know because I’ve been looking for that exact deck for my brother.”
You watch as his cheeks dust a light pink color, lightly nudging his bag so it falls over. He starts avoiding eye contact, leaning back fully against the old AC unit. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up your sweater?” You lean back against the stairs. “Yeah, maybe. But I think you’re kinda cool, and I’d like to stay.”
It was rather silent the rest of lunch, when you tried to hold a conversation- he would end it with short answers that gave you nothing to build off of. The bell rings above you like the screech of an angered bird. You both get up, him raising from the floor before you. You brush the dirt off of the back of your thighs, the light sound of unzipping catching your attention. You watch as the zipper of his hoodie comes down as he pulls it. Yanking it off of his shoulders, revealing the greenish-grey long sleeve he had under it.
“Here. Even if you get the food off, it’ll still stain.” He hands you the coat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the already open flap lolling open even more. “Oh, thank you, I don’t know what to sa-” “Don’t. Don’t say anything. This never happened.” He walks past you and into the crowd of students, with his head down.
You watch as he does so, eventually looking back down at the hoodie in hand. You feel your face just slightly twinge with heat. “Yeah… Alright.” You say under your breath as you rush off to the nearest bathroom to scrub the food scum from your sweater.
-
It was a game day.
Not that he kept track of that, he had never been into football. Once upon a time he played soccer, but after he got the Negatrix any hopes of that former love returning was gone. Ben knew it was game day because his cousin was in her cheerleading outfit- and it was no were near time for cheer competitions. Her makeup was done and her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up, and she sat in the front seat of her boyfriend's car chatting to said boyfriend about the routines she had to do.
Ben sat in the back, as he always did, waiting for the drive to be over. It came soon enough as the car pulled into the drop off area in front of the school, slowing to a stop. Neither Tennyson waited for it to fully stop before opening their doors. He got out, closing it with a slam and without a thank you. Gwen still leaning in and talking. The chatter of the hoard of tired teenagers flocking into the building almost drowned out the shouting of his name.
Almost.
He groans, looking over his shoulder, spotting the mass of pastels jogging towards him with something in their arms. “I’m so glad I got here on time! They were packed this morning- and I thought I'd be late- but I made it.” In your arms is his hoodie and an espresso smoothie. You hand him your gifts with a large smile. “I um, washed the jacket for you. Thanks again.” The bell rings and you give a quick wave before pushing into the school building yourself.
His jaw hangs slack, looking down at his freshly cleaned jacket- lint free, folded, and still warm- and the smoothie. When he moves there's a light cracking from inside the jacket, like the sound of a chip bag. He pulls back one of the folds and there is a bag of kale chips, stuck to it is a yellow sticky note written on with a pink gel pen. A phone number with “See you at lunch.”
“Who was that?” Ben looks over at his cousin, an impressed smirk on her lips.
“You’re getting mileage out of this, huh?” “Soooo much.”
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miekasa · 4 years
Text
daylight’s wasting (you better kiss me)
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↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader
↯ genre and warnings: college au, fluff, someone please be gentle with this boy i’m begging you, jean and eren pretending they don’t give a fuck about each other whilst actually being best bros for the win
↯ word count: 2k
↯ summary: based off of that reddit post about some guy talking about his girlfriend washing his hair for the first time + hoping it fills a request for someone asking for reader playing with eren’s hair for the first time :’)
↯ notes: this is cross-posted and edited slightly from another blog in a completely separate fandom, so if you’ve seen it before, no you didn’t </2
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Jean can’t say that he immediately noticed a pep in Eren’s step when the green-eyed boy met him in the library, but what he does notice is the stupid, dopey looking grin and starry-eyed gaze in his eyes that he’s sporting while he’s not doing his part for their project. And while Jean considers himself relatively attractive, he knows for sure Eren isn’t shy about making it known that he doesn’t; so the brunette doubts the literal heart eyes Eren has are for him.
“Eren? Eren, bro, are you good?” Jean calls, a dark eyebrow raised above his left eye. Eren barely registers the calls of his name, and it takes Jean waving his hands in front of the shorter’s face for him to wake from his trance, looking up at Jean with that same, longing smile (that’s, admittedly, starting to creep him the fuck out).
“Yeah,” Eren sighs, something reminiscent of a lovelorn cartoon prince, as he rests his elbow atop his notebook and his chin the palm of his hand, “I’m good.”
Jean looks at him, skeptical and confused. He shifts in his seat, but Eren’s eyes don’t follow—he just stares ahead, lost in thought and completely unaware of everything around him. He looks like a lovesick little bitch if you ask Jean. Or completely sloshed.
Slowly, Jean leads forward, eyebrows pinched, looking for streaks of red in Eren’s eyes, “Are you stoned right now?”
“What?” Eren pulls back, almost offended, “No, I’m not high—Jean, what the fuck?”
Jean simply shrugs, leaning back into his seat, “I dunno. Yesterday you were so stressed about your acrobatic salt cycle samples—”
“—Acetylsalicylic acid. It’s basically Asprin, and I wasn’t stressed, they just weren’t crystallizing the they way they’re supposed to—”
“I don’t fucking care. But now you look mellow as hell,” Jean cuts him off, “Just thought maybe you rolled a good one before coming here or something. Not that I’m judging, of course. But you’re much more of a lightweight than you think, so try not to go—”
“‘M not a fucking lightweight,” Eren groans, “You and Reiner are just heavy bodied.”
“Just admit you can’t hold your shit, Jaeger.”
“I’m not admitting shit. Mikasa makes strong drinks, that’s all.”
Jean grits his teeth at Eren’s stubborn antics, but lets it go. It’s not like the conversation was going anywhere, anyways. “If you’re not baked, then what’s got your head in the clouds?”
Eren shifts in his seat now, pulling his hand off the table, and into his lap. Jean’s suspicious eyebrow is quirked again, and that slightly creeped-out feeling is back when he spots Eren’s ears going red.
Jesus Christ, he just asked a simple question.
“Not that I care,” Jean tacks on, feigning disinterest, “But if it’s gonna keep you from doing your half of the project, just spill it already so we can get this shit over with.”
Eren rolls his eyes, but that blush is still there. He looks like he contemplates waving it off for a minute, before he sighs. “(Y/N) and I showered together yesterday,” he finally blurts.
Jean blinks. “Oh. So you got laid—”
“—No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Eren corrects him, the red on his ears spreading to his cheeks slowly, with every word that spills out of his mouth. Eren stutters, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, “She just… She washed my hair.”
Eren sighs, flustered and frustrated, and annoyed that he looks like this in front of Jean’s horse-faced ass of all people; but he knows, that no matter how much shit Jean talks, he can rely on him. For better or (often times) for worse.
And Jean, for as hotheaded as he can get, and for as much as Eren annoys the shit of out him, knows how to read a room; and in this moment, he can see that Eren is actually coming to him with genuine emotions, other than masked anger and abrasiveness. So, the both of them concede; pull back from their usual pointed commentary, and listen to what the other has to say. 
“Ah,” Jean comments, lamely; an embarrassed blush of his own growing on his face at his stupidity. The two sit in silence for a moment, before Jean speaks up again, “It’s, uh… It’s nice, right?”
Eren’s eyes snap to him, wide. He almost completely forgot that Jean’s in a committed relationship, too. The two don’t often go to each other for relationship advice, or… relationship venting, but Eren makes a mental note that maybe, just maybe, he should.  
“Yeah,” Eren admits, “I don’t, uh, I don’t know how to explain it. It was just—”
“Relaxing?”
“Yeah. Like all the bullshit from school just melted away all of a sudden,” Eren confesses, “All she fucking did was wash my hair and hum for, like, five minutes, but I feel like… I don’t know. Good.”
Jean hums, acknowledging Eren’s words and mulling them over. “Loved,” he chimes in with an awkward cough, “Pretty sure that’s the word you’re looking for, Jaeger.”
Eren chokes on air, his eyes darting around the room. So, yeah, it’s still a little awkward, talking with Jean of all people about his relationship, and love, and all that gushy stuff; but, even Eren can admit, it’s comforting to know that someone knows what he’s feeling—even if that someone is Jean.
“You should tell her. Girls like that shit, when you tell em what you’re thinking, you know?” Jean comments, picking up his pen to resume scribbling in his notebook. He sounds nonchalant, but from the redness on his face, Eren can tell he’s just as flustered, and probably thinking about his own girlfriend. “Besides, you’ve been together for a long ass time now. Don’t know what you’re waiting for at this point.”
“Yeah,” Eren coughs, pretending to resume his own homework, “Yeah, I think I will.”
“Good,” Jean nods, “Now will you fucking paste your paragraph in the Google Doc so I can rewrite it and make it coherent.”
“Fuck you, it’s coherent as is.”
“As if. I’ve read your shit before, and it sounds like it was written by six year old on meth. You science majors can’t write to save your life.”
“Tough talk from someone who can’t do basic addition.”
“Derivatives and shit aren’t basic addition, they were created by a man who died a virgin. Tells me everything I need to know about them and you.”
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Three days later, Eren finds himself alone in your off-campus apartment, laying on your bed, stomach to the mattress, while he tries to convince himself to study for his upcoming biology exam. He finds looking around your room to be much more interesting, though, and takes the time to notice things he hadn’t before.
There’s a small strip of images of the two of your in a clear mason jar on your nightstand—the newest addition to your collection—from the photo booth at the ice-skating rink you went to last week. Eren doesn’t know why you insist on going to every photo booth you come across, but who is he to deny you the pictures.
When he looks to your closet, he isn’t surprised to see two of his hoodies, one of his warm-up soccer uniforms, and last season’s hockey jersey hanging up. What does surprise him, is the way they’re all hung up next to each other, like they have their own little section amongst your clothing; like they were reserved, special almost. He bets they’re all probably washed and clean, too; because you take care of his things like that.
He thinks about how he has a few pairs of sweatpants and pajamas—hell, even a pair of slacks and a button-down from one of your fancier dates—all tucked away in his very own drawer in your dresser. The bucket hats thats you claim are oh-so ugly still have their own place in your room, hanging next to your belts. Even his psychology textbook sits on your desk, clearly set aside for him and taken care of, but still integrated amongst your other belongings. 
You seem to be the only person who thinks Eren and all his baggage can have a place in your life. You seem to always have space for things to fit in, no matter how stupid, or ugly, or tattered they are; no matter how emotional, or lost, or impulsive he is. Nothing is out of place here, himself included. 
Lost in his thoughts, Eren doesn’t register the sound of your front door opening, or your footsteps growing louder. In fact, he doesn’t register that you’re home at all, until you come padding into your bedroom, shaking your backpack off of your shoulders and setting it next to his on the ground.
“Hey, baby,” you greet him, almost offhandedly, as you place your coffee down on your desk. He doesn’t mind—actually the element of practiced casualness in your tone brings a kind of warmth to him, and makes his stomach flutter. 
“Hey,” he smiles, a stupidly fond look in his eye as his watched you shimmy your jacket off of your shoulders. 
Eren sits himself upwards, shifting so that his long legs dangle off the edge of your bed as he watching your silhouette move throughout your bedroom. When you’re finished removing all your layers and jewelry, you finally look to him, greeting him a second time as you walk towards him and your bed.
Eren cages you in when you reach him, his ankles wrapped on top of each other as he secures you standing between his legs. He wraps his arms loosely around your waist, while your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck.
“Your hair’s dry,” you hum, your fingers raking through his brown locks as if to make your point, “You didn’t shower yet?”
Eren shakes his head lightly, craning his neck forwards to tuck the cold tip of his nose into your collar. He holds you a little tighter when you smooth his hair down, one of your hands resting against the back of his neck, and lightly scraping at the hairs near his nape.
“How come?” you question innocently, “I thought your classes ended a few hours ago—did your lab go late again? You should tell your TA you have a life outside of trying to culture bacteria in a dish, you know.”
Eren chuckles lightly, but feels the concern in your voice tug heavily at his heart strings. You seem to really hate his lab TA.
“Wasn’t him this time,” Eren mumbles against your skin, “Was waiting for you.”
“Yeah? That gonna be a regular thing, now?”
“Wouldn’t mind,” Eren confesses, words barely audible as he buries his face into your neck. He tries tickle you with his eyelashes, shift the heat towards you, but you move out of reach too quickly; your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit upright.
He has to look up you, just slightly, and he hopes he doesn’t look like a complete blushing idiot. If he does, you don’t seem to mind, if the way you cup his face between your hands is any indication.
“Well then, come on. I bought two new loofahs yesterday.”
Eren follows you to the bathroom with a smile, borderline giggling with excitement all the way to the shower. When it comes down to it, he relishes in the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp, suds of shampoo cascading down his neck as you find amusement in coiling his hair into a bubbly mohawk.
It’s so mundane, so simple, yet overwhelmingly intimate the way you’re taking care of him—the way you always take care of him. It fills Eren to the brim with emotions he can’t even begin to convey with words.
And when you’ve had you’re fun, and made sure his hair is throughly clean and smells like apples, you take your body wash on the ball of his (his! his very own!) loofah, and scrub away at his back, down his shoulders, across his torso; and Eren can’t stop the tears from falling.
He realizes his must look bizzare, to be standing the middle of your shower, crying like a baby with soap and suds all over his body, but he can’t help himself.
“Eren? Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he assures you, hiccuping between his words and sniffling away any more tears that threaten to fall. You don’t seem convinced, and once again, Eren feels his heart swell at just the sheer thought at you’d hold even an ounce of concern for him the way you do.
“You’re crying, Eren,” you point out, voice soft, but clearly concerned, as you reach your hands up to cup his face again, “Did I hurt you? What’s wr—”
Eren cuts you off by wrapping you in a hug, hoping—praying—you know that you could never hurt him. The two of you spend nearly five whole minutes like that, your arms wrapped around each other’s middles, with warm water pouring over your naked skin. Eren can feel you pressing shallow kisses into his chest, and he feels his heart physically swell every time your lips make contact with his skin.
It’s on the fifth, quiet press of your lips that Eren knows he can’t hold it in anymore; pulls away from your embrace to look you in your eyes.
“I love you,” he finally confesses, with wet hair stuck to his forehead, and teary eyes. It’s hardly a picture perfect moment, but Eren can’t bring himself to care; he needs you to know.
But, of course, you already did. “I know, Eren,” you say with a smile, kissing his chin, and then on the tips of your toes, his lips, “And I love you more.”
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hartigays · 3 years
Note
big brain thot: wheezie being the one to get rafebarry together👀👀
“wheeze, you can’t just show up here like this.”
she hasn’t even gotten off her bicycle yet, helmet still in place and everything. she looks up at rafe with big eyes, rolling them as slowly and dramatically as humanly possible.
“i just did,” wheezie points out, unclipping her helmet and setting it in the front basket of her bike.
rafe eyes her warily, then relaxes a bit. his eyes flicker back towards the trailer. “how’d you even know i’d be here?”
“topper,” she tells him simply, shrugging.
“topper?”
another overly-dramatic eye roll. “yes, topper. he came by looking for sarah and i asked him if he knew where you were. i need help with something.”
“and topper told you i’d be here?” rafe asks, brows raised.
topper is a lot of things, but is he the type of person to send a kid to a coke dealer’s trailer? no, absolutely not.
“i encouraged him,” wheezie replies, a little too vague for rafe’s liking. he narrows his eyes and she sighs. “fine, i kicked him in the crotch until he gave it up. happy?”
rafe snorts at the mental image.
wheezie finally climbs off her bike, standing in front of rafe with her arms crossed. “so, are you going to help me or not?”
he really doesn’t want to say yes. but he’s sort of always had a soft spot for wheezie - she’s one of two people who don’t make him feel completely homicidal.
(the other is sitting back in the trailer, smoking a joint and watching some boxing match on his old as shit tv. the thing has antennas, for fuck’s sake.)
rafe glances back at the trailer again, then turns back to wheezie, scrubbing a hand over his face. “fine. but you can’t come inside, wheeze, i’m serious.”
“why, because of drugs?” wheezie snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “please. i’m pretty sure you smoked weed in my room when i was like, five.”
“that’s not the point,” rafe huffs, his fuse shortening ever-so-slightly. “just tell me what you want.”
for the first time since her arrival, wheezie looks mildly uncomfortable. she bites her lip, looking towards the treeline.
“i want to learn how to fight,” she says, and her voice sounds so small that rafe sort of feels… bad.
which is like a new milestone or whatever, so this is sort of a big moment for him.
“why do you need to learn how to fight?”
wheezie doesn’t say anything for a long stretch. then, her cheeks get red, and the words burst out of her. “i’m getting picked on at school, alright? this girl keeps saying she’s going to beat me up after class and i can only hide from her for so long, you know?”
rafe is mildly taken aback, never figuring wheezie for the type to get bullied. she always seemed self-assured and well adjusted, with a sizable group of friends and an active social life. for a middle schooler, anyway.
“what’s her name?” rafe asks, indignant on his sister’s behalf.
if he had to choose a sister to be the target of bullying, it’d definitely be sarah. wheezie, on the other hand, is just a kid. and if someone is threatening to kick her ass, rafe sure as hell is going to find out who.
“i’m not telling you her name, rafe,” wheezie says. “i don’t want you going and knocking her door down to threaten her or whatever. i want you to teach me how to fight so i can hold my own.”
rafe would probably just kill the kid, not threaten her, whoever she is. but he doesn’t tell this to wheezie, biting his tongue for once.
he rocks back on his heels, then sighs, and beckons for wheezie to follow him into the trailer.
wheezie throws her arms up as if to say fucking finally, following rafe inside.
barry is still smoking on the couch, but when he sees wheezie trailing after rafe, he has the presence of mind to put the joint out with an awkward cough.
“you gonna tell me who your little friend is, country club?”
“i’m his sister, wheezie,” she says before rafe can speak, rolling her shoulders back and holding barry’s gaze steadily.
“wheezie?” barry repeats, then laughs, wagging his finger in her direction. “you funny, kid.”
wheezie gives rafe a look, clearly judging him for his choice of company.
“jury’s still out on you,” wheezie tells barry, eyeing him.
barry actually throws his head back when he laughs this time, and rafe can’t help but eye the line of his throat, his mouth going a little dry.
the worst part is, wheezie notices him staring. she raises a brow at rafe. he just coughs and looks away, regretting every decision he’s made in the last ten minutes.
“look, she wants to learn how to fight,” rafe tells barry. “i figured two heads would be better than one?”
“or you just a pussy and know you can’t beat nobody’s ass, rafe,” barry says, reclining back on the sofa, staring at him through heavily-lidded eyes.
“neither can you,” rafe reminds him.
always reminding him. where rafe has failed, barry has too. rather consistently, as a matter of fact.
“fair ‘nough,” barry says after a stretch, leaning forward again. “two heads, then.”
wheezie coughs, and they both turn to look at her. she gives them a bored look. “are you two done having a moment? or do you still need a minute? because i can step outside if- ”
“shut up, wheeze,” rafe groans, pushing her towards the couch.
they spend the next hour and a half discussing fighting techniques, and the cardinal rules of fighting. the ones rafe and barry abide by, anyway.
there aren’t many. they spend the majority of the time discussing technique.
when wheezie gets sick of listening to them yammer on about the different types of headlocks, she starts to get restless.
“oh my god, i didn’t come for the rules of fight club, alright? will one of you just show me how to punch this bitch in the face?”
both barry and rafe shut up immediately, barry’s mouth dropping open in mild surprise.
rafe just snorts, mumbling fair enough under his breath.
and that’s how rafe ends up watching barry do some sort of shadow boxing with wheezie in the living room. rafe re-lights the joint, watching the scene before him in amusement.
“no, kid, you ain’t gotta do all that fancy shit with your legs,” barry is saying at one point, then demonstrates some sort of kick for her.
rafe forgets sometimes that barry has military training, and despite the fact that he gets his ass beat on a regular basis, he’s a pretty damn good teacher.
the joint is long gone by the time wheezie looks at her watch, cursing.
“shit. rose is gonna kill me,” wheezie mutters, fumbling for her phone.
“just tell her you’re staying at a friend’s,” rafe suggests. “it’s too dark for you to bike back anyway.”
“you could always drive me, you know,” wheezie reminds him. then, her eyes flicker down to what’s left of the joint (basically, the filter) and backtracks. “well, he could.”
she’s pointing at barry, and barry shrugs.
rafe, however, finds himself wanting wheezie to stay. dare he say it, he might’ve actually missed his sister.
he’s pretty sure he’ll regret it later, but regardless he says, “we’ll get you something to eat and you can crash here if you’re too tired to go home after.”
something to eat ends up being freezer-burnt pizza rolls, but wheezie doesn’t complain. she eats her food while scrolling through her phone, glancing up at rafe and barry every now and then.
they’re conversing quietly about a drug deal they have set up later, a big one. rafe doesn’t think wheezie is listening, but he also doesn’t notice the way she keeps glancing up at them, her eyes flickering between them with an unreadable look on her face.
and then, out of nowhere, “are you guys dating?”
rafe looks at her sharply and he sees barry do the same out of the corner of his eye. barry’s mouth had shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together, and rafe can see him rubbing at his jaw.
“what the hell, wheeze?”
wheezie raises her hands in mock-surrender, but still rolls her eyes. “it’s just a question, geez. but thanks for the answer.”
“the fuck is she talkin’ about?” barry asks, his gaze flickering between rafe and wheezie.
“you two,” wheezie explains slowly, looking almost bored. again. rafe is starting to think he’s had a bad influence on her. “you’re dating, right? like that’s why you’re always here, right?”
the latter question is directed towards rafe, and he feels his stupid cheeks betray him, burning red.
“oh, right. you’re men, of course you haven’t talked about it,” wheezie sighs, then stands up and brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts. “well, i conveniently have to use the bathroom, so. use this time wisely, i guess?”
then wheezie disappears from the small kitchen, leaving rafe and barry sitting in thick, palpable silence.
“so… what the fuck just happened?” rafe asks when he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer, pointedly not looking at barry.
when barry shifts in his seat, rafe can feel it, and he realizes all at once just how close they’re sitting.
“she thinks… “ barry trails off, shifting in his seat again.
“that we’re dating,” rafe finishes, swallowing around the golf ball-sized lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat.
rafe can feel barry looking at him. he can feel the heat of his gaze, and wow, wheezie is taking a really long time in the bathroom.
“that what we been doing, country club?” barry asks, and rafe looks over at him so quickly that his neck pops.
rafe searches barry’s face for any trace of humor, but comes up empty.
they’ve been practically living together for months, ever since rafe gave up trying to please ward and joined barry’s little side business. and if he really thinks about it, they have lapsed into something almost nauseatingly domestic.
it’s like. like rafe’s been in this weird, fucked up relationship this whole time, and he’s just now realizing it. and realizing, at the same time, that he doesn’t want it to end now that wheezie has gutted them both and laid everything out in the open, where neither of them can hide.
jesus fucking christ, is he in love with barry? barry the drug dealer?
well, rafe supposes that’s what he would call himself now, too, so. maybe it makes some sort of sense after all.
“i don’t think so, but i think we should now,” rafe finally says. he doesn’t know why he says that last bit, it just sort of slips out before he realizes what he’s saying.
but he doesn’t take it back either.
barry is too quiet next to him. the silence goes on for far too long, and rafe is starting to debate internally whether or not he should dump wheezie’s body in the swamp or somewhere off shore.
finally, barry speaks. “startin’ to think you may be onto somethin’, rafe cameron.”
“so is that a yes?” rafe huffs, already feeling exposed enough as it is. he doesn’t need barry speaking in shades of gray.
suddenly, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, gentler than rafe would’ve anticipated, and then barry is turning rafe’s head and kissing him.
like, really kissing him. rafe feels like he’s being turned inside out, his insides shifting and adjusting, rearranging and adapting to make room for barry.
it’s not a particularly long kiss, but it’s sure as hell the best one rafe has experienced in his life.
“they teach you that in the army?” rafe asks when barry pulls away, aiming for nonchalant but failing due to the heavy rise and fall of his chest. and the fact that he can’t stop staring at barry’s mouth.
barry just smacks the back of rafe’s head, shoving him lightly. “get the fuck out my kitchen, country club.”
rafe is about to respond when the bathroom door opens, and wheezie pokes her head out.
“ugh, thank god you’re finally done. you should invest in a bathroom fan, you know,” wheezie tells barry, “i could literally hear everything.”
she shudders and gags, barry laughs, and rafe vaults himself out the nearest window.
well, he tries to. barry catches him by the waist easily, dragging him back into his seat. wheezie just rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“okay, well, since you’re done being a drama queen, i think i’d like that ride home now.”
165 notes · View notes
ktheist · 4 years
Text
(why) we got married | m
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synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.
you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?
muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader
alternative title. as you are.
inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift
genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst
words. 12.5k
warnings. explicit content
verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.
x
in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.
and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.
“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”
“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”
the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.
when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?
the answer was never.
the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.
everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.
but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.
but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.
you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.
of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.
chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.
“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.
it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”
and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.
either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.
it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.
you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.
“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”
mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.
“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.
“what-”
“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”
“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”
mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.
“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.
the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.
“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.
“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”
you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.
it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.
and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.
all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.
the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.
your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.
that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.
“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.
“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.
the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.
“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.
“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.
the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”
clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”
“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.
it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”
swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.
only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.
“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.
in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”
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and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.
when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.
and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.
if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.
on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.
“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”
when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”
“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”
you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.
with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”
though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”
the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.
“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.
“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives.  even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”
you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”
but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.
so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.
but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.
it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.
and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.
“jungkook...”
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“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.
“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.
“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.
“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.
“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”
but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"
“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.
“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”
it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.
“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”
“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”
“then why are you...�� it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”
“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.
when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”
it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”
silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”
the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”
and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.
shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.
“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.
“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”
“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.
“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”
“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”
“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”
“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”
you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.
the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.
“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.
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“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”
“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.
“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.
after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”
it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.
because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.
picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-
“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”
“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”
“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”
“i did?” you blink, surprised.
“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.
back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.
it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.
the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.
but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”
“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”
“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.
then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.
“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”
that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”
the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.
the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.
“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.
“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.
taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.
it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.
“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.
“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.
“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”
it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.
“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”
the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.
“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.
but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”
taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,
“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.
that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.
he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”
taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.
like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.
“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.
and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.
“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”
blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.
“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.
“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”
“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”
it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”
the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”
and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.
without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”
and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart  - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.
“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.
you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.
“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.
and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.
the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”
it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.
“th-thank you.”
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mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”
“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”
he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.
“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”
it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-
“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”
he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.
nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.
“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”
“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.
but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”
at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.
“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”
it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.
so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”
the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”
it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.
“my husband and i are working on it,”  was all you say.
when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.
he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”
“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.
taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.
“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.
home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.
then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.
“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.
“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.
“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.
“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”
he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”
“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”
“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”
taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”
at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.
but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.
“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”
and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.
patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”
his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.
dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”
while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”
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and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’
“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.
that was half an hour ago.
now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.
so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.
you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.
“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.
“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.
“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.
your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.
the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.
who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?
the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”
“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”
and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.
“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”
“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”
the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.
it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.
sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.
you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.
by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”
“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”
this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”
you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.
“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.
the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.
“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.
but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.
“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.
five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.
“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.
it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.
the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.
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a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.
it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.
then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.
slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.
“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.
“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.
“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.
"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but
after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.
first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?
taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”
taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.
with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.
before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.
only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”
mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.
“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.
you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.
those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.
or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.
“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.
it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.
“what do you mean?”
“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”
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and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.
then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.
and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.
“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”
“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”
“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.
picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.
a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”
“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”
the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.
“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”
all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.
“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”
“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.
“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”
the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”
the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”
a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”
“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”
she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.
boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.
over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.
the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”
“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”
lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.
“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”
“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.
it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”
the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”
“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.
“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.
but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.
in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.
a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.
you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.
x
note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!
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goldentsum · 4 years
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— love, you can’t run away from me forever.
PAIRING: soulmate! suna rintarou x reader
GENRE: smut, soulmate au but make it dark
WORDCOUNT: 5.5k
SUMMARY: growing up in a world filled with soulmates was magical but with news about people going crazy and killing people for their “love” made suna repulsive to the idea of soulmates though when you came along, he finally understood why those people did it. 
WARNING: dark content, smut, noncon, manipulative tendencies, cussing/cursing, creepy! and delulu! suna, mean! reader, masturbation (male), photos and audio recording taken w/o consent, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), bdsm, sadistic! suna, dom! suna, violence, abuse, blood, suna is a dick, reader who tries to fight back
AUTHOR’S NOTE: another one cus why not! you guys seemed to liked my first dark fic so here’s another one! <3 might be bad idk prob cus of my writing HAHAHHA also, suna just being a creepy and psychopathic aquarius. DO NOT INTERACT/READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON’T LIKE THIS TYPE OF CONTENT. 
REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. do not romanticize this, this is fiction and in no way am i telling people this is okay. if you don’t like content like this, please click away or block the tag tw.darkcontent
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‘the world is fucked up,’ suna thought, looking at his phone as he saw all types of news about people killing and committing all types of felonies to prove that their love for their soulmates were real. 
the stoic male grimaced at one news he came upon when he scrolled up, a young man killed his family and friends because “he doesn’t need anyone else beside his soulmate”. now that was fucked up. suna never thought he'd lose faith in humanity even more with each passing day. it was actually impressive with how fucking stupid and delusional people get when the topic of soulmates come up. 
gold eyes narrowed at the inked skin of his wrist. “(l/n) (y/n)” or whoever that is better not mind never having a soulmate because there’s no way in hell suna’s going to be all lovey-dovey and accept the soulmate bullshit. 
he thinks that soulmates are a scam. it was a hoax to make people do stupid shit and suna will not tolerate that type of bull. if he’s gonna end up with someone, it’ll be because he likes them not because of ‘fate’ or whatever decided it for him. 
he will never conform to society and its standards. 
“suna! what’s with the ugly face?” atsumu snickered, plopping down on the seat beside suna making the taller male groan. 
“oh fuck off, atsumu. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit” 
“when have you ever been in a mood for bullshit?” 
suna raised a brow and hummed, “good point” 
atsumu shook his head and turned to the counter where his brother was standing behind. “’samu! i want 3 tuna onigiris!” 
osamu glared at his brother and scowled, “get it yourself, lazy ass” 
“i’m paying you!” atsumu whined like the little brat he is but osamu ignored him and tended to the other customers in his shop. suna groaned at the noise, “for fuck’s sake, tsumu. shut up. your voice is so annoying” 
atsumu glared at the man and punched his shoulder, making suna winced and scowled at his former teammate from highschool. the older miya twin huffed and ignored his words, continuing what he was about to say before suna insulted him, “anyway! what i was trying to say earlier was that people around us are finding their soulmates while i’m stuck with you bums! how is that fair?!” 
suna groaned, annoyed, at the same old topic of soulmates. “soulmates are overrated. it’s a scam. you’re lucky you haven’t met yours yet if anything.” 
the setter scoffed at suna’s old same line of bitterness towards the topic of soulmates, “what’s with you, anyway? what’s with the bitterness towards soulmates?” 
“it’s bullshit, is all” suna replied easily, not bothered nor giving a shit. atsumu smirked and threw an arm over the male’s shoulder, “one day, you’ll meet your soulmate and everything’s gonna change.” 
“did you just curse me or?” 
“I don't know, did i?”
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oh for fuck’s sake. atsumu really did cursed him. suna stared in awe, uncharacteristically so, at you while you glared at him. you clicked your tongue when his gaze was still as dazed and lovesick since you two have met. 
“fuck off, rintarou! i told you i don’t want any soulmate bullshit!” 
suna chuckled with a small blush on his cheeks, “i love it when you call me, rintarou--”
“because that’s your name, stupid! you know what, i’m not even gonna bother. and for the last time, stop following me!” you growled, stomping off to get away from your creep of a soulmate but the man didn’t mind your words. it was quite amusing to him to be honest. 
you’re so cute and small and so angry at the world that it’s so endearing to him. with every glare you give him, it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. ah, so this is what it felt to be with your soulmate. it’s addicting. you two could rule the world together if you want to. 
“love, you can’t run away from me forever. i’m your soulmate” 
you groaned at the persistent male, “i don’t want you as a soulmate! why can’t you understand that?!” 
suna stopped following you after your harsh words. you also stopped, your anger subsiding a bit when you realized what you said and all of a sudden, there was a pain in your heart. you cursed at the soulmate bond that was not letting you reject your fate. guilt resurfaced in your gut when you looked at suna who’s staring at the ground, eyes hidden under his bangs. 
“r-rintarou?.. look i’m sorry, okay. but i don’t really want any soulmate business in my life-...” you tried to explain but quickly cut your words off when suna started chuckling. 
scared and terrified at the creepy laugh and unexpected action, you stepped back and looked at him with wide eyes. suna then looked up at you and smirked, the dark glint in his eyes gave you the creeps, his breath heavy as he panted like a dirty pervert! his eyes were so filled with emotions. lust, obsession, and ‘love’ but you don’t  even know if you can call it ‘love’...
“did you feel that? it shows... no matter what you do. we’re connected.” 
oh fuck no. this psycho is not worth it. you grimaced at his words and turned back around swiftly, walking faster to get away from him. 
“fate will always bring us together, (y/n). the quicker you accept that, the easier life gets” you heard him shouted after you and it only made you quicken your actions, heart beating rapidly at what just happened. 
suna smirked at your figure as it grew smaller and smaller. he figured he’d let you go for now. it’s not like you can hide from him. you can try but the ink on your skin will always remind you where you belong and that’s with him. 
the tall male looked at his phone, the screen showing a picture of you sleeping. he traced your features through the phone with a loving sigh and quickly stuffed it back to his pocket. he whistled a small tune under his breath on his way back home, his thoughts filled with you. 
suna walked inside his apartment, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. he groaned in annoyance when his shoes got stuck on his foot but quickly shook it off. the moment he was in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and plopped down on the bed, opening his phone again. 
in his phone, there was a whole album of you. sleeping, eating, at the gym, when you were at the library. suna also opened one of the files in his phone as sounds of you breathing when you were sleeping echoed in the room. 
a small moan escaped the phone, suna’s eyes shining slyly at the sound. oh how he wants to hear it in person. he wants to hear every lovely sound you can make. he wants to know everything about you. 
what type of weather do you like? do you like cereal at night like him? do you have a special place for cats in your heart like he does? do you hate heat like him? and do you like getting fucked so hard the only thing you can do is scream? 
suna sighed at the last thought as rapid images of what you would look like popped in his head. would you look pouty? would you cry? would you be quiet and shy? or would you moan like a bitch in heat? 
the familiar twitch in his sweats made suna antsy. a hand drifted to his pants to palm himself through the cloth. 
suna massaged his hardening cock through his pants, letting out sighs as he did so. your soft breathing from the phone was making him harder. he imagined you beside him, sleeping. looking so innocent and safe from all the vile things of the world. safe with him. 
your plump lips curled into a small pout as your brows furrows while you dream then waking up, needy for him. suna groaned and swiftly tugged his sweats and boxers off him. he spat on his hand, hissing when he started stroking his thick cock. drifting to the sensitive head of his cock, he massaged it with the slick spit as it ooze out pre-cum. 
he quickly coated his digits with the precum and slicked his twitching cock with it for the smooth friction he was craving. he panted at the feeling when he tightened his grip on his dick, trying to imagine your tight wet pussy instead. 
“s-shit, baby... feels so good’“ he slurred, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of the tight grip, stroking himself to a slow rhythm. in his mind, he can see your pretty face. 
he can imagine you on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to not overstimulate yourself with his large cock inside of you. suna licked his lips, a small smirk appearing on his face as he imagined the cute little noises you made when you tried to fit him in you. 
his thick cock hitting so deeply inside you but oh how you like it, you slut. you’d look so gorgeous, moaning on top of him, hands on his chest whilst you ride him. 
“r-rintarou” he can hear your lewd voice calling out, your breath getting heavier with each stroke of his cock, dragging in your tight wet walls. your big doe eyes filled with tears as you look down at him, trying to get some help from him to fuck you good already.
he cursed when he felt a familiar band trying to snap in his lower stomach, his hand getting faster. wet slapping sounds echoed in the room along with your soft breathing on his phone. his violent and aggressive movements were getting him closer to his release. 
this is how he wants it to be. him fucking you so violently making you cry, hands gripping you tight that your pretty skin would bloom with violets and blue. 
he can already see it, how your tongue will roll out your pretty lips whilst you get fucked so hard that all you can do is lay and scream for him, your soulmate. your other half. you belong to him. 
“ha-ah-!” suna groaned deeply when his release hit him, thick warm cum hit his clenching abs as the spiraling pleasure made him shiver. his hand pumping his dick fast to ride his orgasm, his chest heaving deep pants. the male gulped down, trying to wet his dry throat as he slowly calmed down. lazy yellow eyes stared up in the white ceiling of his bed. 
he needs you. he wants to feel you. he wants to be with you. now. 
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you sighed as you walked home to your apartment, it has been a week since your crazy soulmate tried to bother you in accepting him and it was making you jumpy. his eyes just showed so much when you last saw him that it made you paranoid with every movement that was happening around you. 
you entered your room, exhaling a deep breath of relief as you felt the warm air of your safe home. it was nice to be in your apartment again. no one to bother you. safe from the crazy man that suddenly stopped messing with you. 
after shrugging off your coat, you enter your kitchen to get a glass of water. all the overthinking about the mess that fate got you into was making your head hurt. as you greedily gulped down the water to soothe your dry throat, a movement from the dark living room made you choke on it. 
“shit” you cursed and looked at the wet floor. you put the glass down and looked at the dark living room, trying to catch any movement. you then quietly went to the knives beside you and grabbed one, walking cautiously through the room. you flickered the lights on, ready to strike if something attacked you, but as the lights went on, you sighed in relief when you saw no one. 
you let your hand drop beside you, rolling your eyes at yourself at the paranoia. you cursed the man that did this. now you were overthinking stuff and seeing shadows.
when you were about to turn around, a large hand covered your mouth and tightly gripped your wrist that held the knife, making it clunk to the floor as you screamed but the hand muffled it. 
“stop fuckin moving already.. you’re gonna just tire yourself” the familiar voice made your body stiff, your blood went cold. crying against his hand when you felt his lips touch your ear, teeth grazing it. 
“you’re so pretty” he cooed, his voice heavy and slow. tears pricked your eyes as you struggled against his hold but the tall man was obviously stronger than you being an athlete. you tried to stomp on his feet but the man nudged you forward with his weight as you two tumbled into the couch. 
you can feel the vibration of his chuckle as his chest was against your back. you heard him sigh and a small grind on your ass was enough to make you feel disgusted and dirty. 
“i apologize for this next action, (y/n)” suna muttered beside your eyes and he leaned back, quickly turning you around. before you could even scream, pain blossomed on your cheek. your vision turned blurry at the impact, dizzy.
this motherfucker just punched you. you faced him again and spat the blood on his face, your lip busted as well. “f-fuck you!”
suna growled at your actions but quickly smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his eye while he held you down. 
“a tough one~ i like that” he whispered and you could feel a hard nudge on your inner thigh making you grimace. this man was fucked up... he just got hard from punching you and you fighting back-
suna smirking down at you was the last thing you remember then everything went dark.
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the room was cold. and your limbs ached with each movement you did. you opened your eyes and panic hit you when you couldn’t see anything. you tried to call out but there was a gag on your mouth. 
you cried through the gag, you cursed everything. you hate fate for getting you into this mess. you curse soulmates bonds, you were right. soulmates are a bunch of bullshit. just look at where that ended you up in. most importantly, you hate him. if you can, you’ll kill him on the spot. 
the fucking psychopath. your soulmate. 
you bit the cloth on your mouth as the binds on your eyes got wet from the tears that escaped from your eyes. your feelings were a mess and all you could feel is anger, shame, and dread. 
“oh, you’re awake. that’s good. i thought i hit you harder than i intended to, thank god that you’re okay” you heard the familiar voice that you loathe. you growled through your gag but suna could only laugh at your pathetic attempt of dominance when you’re gagged, blindfolded, and tied to the bed. 
“now now, no need for that. we want to get along, don’t we” he muttered, walking closer to you and sat on the bed, beside you. 
you flinched when you felt his weight beside you and his hands caressed your cheek. you whimpered at the dull pain when he touches your cheek. this fucker touched where he punched you--
“that looked like it’ll bruise” you growled again at his words. you wanted to scream at him. hit him. make him feel the pain of what he did to you. 
your fussing about stopped and you stiffened when you felt him shift on top of you, going in between your legs. you tried to close your legs but his hands were faster than you. 
he maneuvered you like a doll he owns, fixing you into a position he liked. suna gazed at your tied-up body, his cock already starting to harden in his pants. he wants to touch you already. 
his hand went up and tugged your blindfold as he smiled at your dazed look that changed to a mean one. suna chuckled at your spirit. it was making him excited. 
“you’re too cute, love” he muttered, leaning closer to your neck and nuzzled into you, taking in your scent loudly making you flinch in dread. 
“you smell so sweet,” he said against your neck, an unconscious shiver running up your body. suna smirked when he felt it and continued to nuzzle his face in your neck. his hands touching and groping your body while you growled through the gag but he barely even paid attention to it, too caught up at the feeling of finally touching you and being with you. 
“i wanna taste you~” he whispered lewdly, looking deep into your eyes with a smirk. your eyes widened at his words and mustered up all the strength you had and hit his head against yours. 
you were disoriented after it but it was worth it when you heard his curse as he leaned away. your forehead was red you were sure and it’ll bruise with how hard his head was. 
“you bitch-!” your moment of victory was cut off when large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing it. you choked, wriggling around to get away from suna but he leaned all his weight on top of you. 
he glared down at you, watching with sick satisfaction when your eyes slowly fluttered close and your struggling gradually ceased. suna can snap your neck right now if he wants to. the power he has over you almost made him drool, his cock twitching excitedly in his pants.
he let your neck go, heart beating fast when he saw finger marks on your neck, the shape of his hands on your skin. he watched you cough and try to inhale air, desperately. 
suna then grasped your chin in a tight hold and turned you to face him, making your dazed eyes look up at him, “do that again and i’ll make you bleed.” 
he let your chin go harshly and climbed off you, going out of the room. you gulped and intake the precious air, looking at the door with fear and anger. 
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being with suna was an absolute nightmare. you don’t know how long it has been since the psycho kidnapped you and it was agitating. you fought back but suna liked it because it gave him the excuse to hurt you. you knew this but you just can’t give him the satisfaction he craved of you submitting to him. 
your body was slumped into the bed whilst you cried as suna ate you out. his fingers pumping viciously in and out of you, tongue lapping on your swollen clit. he denied you 4 orgasms already and your body was so sensitive from it. 
“just fucking accept this already!” suna growled against your pussy, the vibrations sending violent shivers in your body. you writhe and keened, your body in his mercy. 
you shook your head, tears streaming down your red and bruised cheeks. your neck was decorated with purple and red, bite marks and fingerprints alike. your wrists red and raw from the rope he used on you constantly.
“n-no!” 
suna rolled his eyes at your disobedience but let you be. he knows you’ll be his good girl sooner or later. he just has to try harder, he guesses. 
he sucked on your clit messily, tonguing your wetness. his fingers caressing your walls as he hit your g-spot making you arch your back. suna smirked and continued his ministrations, ignoring your pleading to let you cum already. 
he felt your walls clenching on his fingers as he stopped altogether making you cry in desperation. suna leaned on his feet, admiring the way your body tried to hump him to get the satisfaction of cumming. 
your body is so beautiful. before it was pristine and void of any marks and flaws but now your skin was decorated with purple and red courtesy of his love for you. 
“you really wanna do this, (y/n)? you rather be a bad girl than be my precious girl?” suna tried to reason with you, his tone was as if he was talking to a child. you scowled at him, “fuck you, asshole!” 
suna’s eyes turned dark at it. one thing he can’t tolerate was you saying such crude and bad words. he raised his hand and slapped you, the force of it made you turn to the side as you gasped at the pain. 
blood dripped from your nose. suna then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing. he glared down at you. “when will you learn... and here i thought you were smarter than that” 
you cried at the pain of his grip on your face and the sting of his slap was still there as his fingers pressed down to the bruises you had on your face. he shook your head, growling, “what do you say when you do something wrong” 
he continued to shake you, your aching limbs hurt at the violent movements. you whimpered and unconsciously replied, “i’m sorry-!” 
suna stopped and removed his hands from you. you looked up at him with teary eyes and saw him smiling softly at you. his mood swings were scary. you don’t really know what type of suna you’ll get before it’s too late... 
“atta girl...” he muttered and started to remove his pants. you panicked at his actions and tried to move away but the painful slap on your thigh was enough to make you stop. 
“now, let me fuck you” 
suna grabbed your ankle and pulled you down on the bed further, closer to him. he pumped his cock at the sight of you, so pretty and crying
“rintarou please-! d-don’t!” you cried, feeling so helpless and all your fire from earlier and the past days gone. the dark-haired male grinned at your sobbing and fussing about. 
“tsk. be a good girl, (y/n). just accept it.” he leaned closer to you, whispering against your wobbly lips. his dark yellow eyes stared straight into yours, lust swirling around his orbs. your body shook in fear and a small cry leaving your swollen lips. 
in one swift movement, suna entered you. he captured your lips, muffling your screams because of him suddenly entering you. the wet squishing noises were triggering your tears. you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being filled up by this psycho. 
maybe in another world where you two have met differently. a perfect world where things weren’t complicated. if you two worked it out and things were different then maybe you’ve actually loved him and accepted him as your soulmate. but not in this world. not now. 
you cried when suna started moving, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your body arched on the bed, feeling the pleasure. suna panted above you, arms caging you and his muscles contracting with every movement he does. 
suna cursed at the feeling, it felt so good. you feel so good. your wet and squishy walls sucking him so eagerly. the lewd sounds of your wetness and his constant thrusting was making him more excited. 
he stopped for a moment, pulling out from your pussy to put you in all fours and then entered you again when he moved you the way he likes. suna groaned, fucking deep into you. his tip grazing your cervix making you squeal. you can feel your orgasm coming faster because of the orgasms suna denied you earlier. you sobbed, hips unconsciously thrusting back to his dick. 
the male chuckled breathily, sneaking a hand between your legs to play with your swollen clit. you choked on a moan when you felt him massaging your clit. you let your head plop down to the mattress, arms wobbly, and all you could do was moan as your body jerking at the pleasure suna was giving you. 
“oh honey, you should see how slutty your body gets when i’m fucking you” he snickered behind you, hips never relenting with his fast and hard thrusts. 
you felt tears trail down your bruised cheeks, you don’t know if it’s because of the shame you felt earlier or the pleasure. the fast circles suna gave your clit made you whine and moan as you felt your orgasm wash over you. 
you howled at the satisfying feeling of the violent orgasm, finally cumming after the torture of not coming four times earlier. suna smirked at the way your body convulsed beneath him. 
the unwavering fucking from behind was sending you to overstimulation and suna’s fingers still rubbed down your sensitive clit. you whined and keened, drool slipping past your lips. 
“so fucked out” suna muttered and bent to lean against your back, his dick twitching in your wet walls. he then angled his thrust differently making you gasp. 
he leaned back again, staring at your sweaty discolored back, from his bites from the past fun times you two had, and the way you leaned against the pillows as your pretty face contorting into a fucked out expression, so lewd.
a large hand trailed down to the back of your neck, grabbing it and letting you lean against suna’s chest. his hand then wrapped around your dainty neck, squeezing, as he felt the vibrations of your moans. 
“pretty baby~” 
his other hand gripped your hips, stilling your wiggling around as he fucked into your harder at the newly changed angle. you whimpered at the way his thick cock reached so deep into you. 
suna moaned beside your ear, hips slowly losing his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. his self-control snapping into something greedy and feral. he ignored your cries and fucked you so he can finally cum. 
the way he used you wasn’t supposed to feel this good. although he didn’t have any intention to make you feel good, the way his dick stuffed your full and the way his thickness stretched you was made you feel the familiar band in your stomach trying to snap once again.
he unconsciously squeezed your neck, breath heavy, when he felt his orgasm getting closer. he growled, thrusting sloppily in you, the sounds of your wetness echoed in the room along with your broken moans and rasps. you can feel him twitching inside you sending you into another orgasm.
you screamed, body arching against suna. the way your pussy squeezed him and the feeling of you cumming again triggered his own. suna moaned, painting your insides with his cum as he rode his orgasm, ignoring your whining. 
he panted, removing his hold on you and letting you hit and slump unto the bed. you whined at the action. suna pulled out of you as he admired the way your pussy was filled with his cum, dripping down to your thighs and down to the sheets. he licked his lips at the sight and leaned closer to you as if he was lured in. 
you gasped and cried when you felt his tongue wiggling around your sensitive pussy. you squeezed your eyes close tightly, body shivering at the overstimulation but suna barely paid any attention to you. he only wanted to satisfy his desires.
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you gazed at the plain ceiling, dully. the soft breathing of the insane male beside you was making you grimace. he just finished fucking you or what he calls, “soulmate bonding time” but all he did was make you cry. 
the sun was up and it was probably noon now but suna normally sleeps in and today was no exception. the phone beside suna’s side on the table started buzzing, circling a little because of the vibration. you heard suna groaned, always the light sleeper. you quickly closed your eyes and hid your face in the covers and pillows. 
you felt the male shifting and after a while, he started talking in his annoyingly attractive deep voice. sleep taking a toll in his vocal cords making it all husky. you internally cursed the soulmate bond trying to make you see him in another light or some bullshit like that.
“hey, what’s up?” 
you continued to listen to the one-sided conversation as you pretend to be asleep. your heart skipped a beat when you heard suna’s words. 
“yeah, come over. i’ll introduce you to her” 
your body stiffened but tried to relax. maybe this was your chance to expose him. you have to try something, you can’t keep letting him do these things to you... 
a soft sleepy groan, the sound someone makes when they stretch, rung inside the quiet room. the covers shifted a bit and a disgustingly familiar body heat hit your skin as two large hands caressed your skin. 
“baby? i’m gonna introduce you to my friends, that’s okay right? it’s time i show off my pretty baby~” you heard him coo. you bit your lip, how can this man act like your relationship with him is normal... you then became painfully aware of the bruises and scars on your body making you self-conscious as you tried to make yourself smaller. 
“they’ll see all of these�� he whispered sweetly with a dazed look on his eyes as he traced the marks that were in purple-y and reddish hues that it was too nauseating to look at but suna thought it was so beautiful on you.
suna spent all afternoon dolling you up, fixing your short dress that shows every mark he gave you. your eyes looked at your reflection. you teared up at the sight. you didn’t look like yourself anymore... 
tired eyes that sagged with dark bags under it. a deep purple bruise on your cheek. your bottom lip was cut from suna’s slap, neck decorated with hickeys and fingerprints, skin discolored.
the man behind you started whistling the godforsaken tune he always sang under his breath as he combed your hair. after fixing your hair, he let his hands down on your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror. 
“ain’t you a pretty little thing...” he muttered, admiring you. you let your gaze shift down to your lap as the male carried you to the living room. 
“now behave.” his word was final as always. do not question it nor do you go against it. or he’ll hurt you... again and again...
a loud voice cut through the quiet atmosphere in the apartment and impatient knocks was heard. “suna! open the damn door, already!” 
the dark-haired male sighed and went to the door. your heart started beating a little too fast. when his guests see you, or your state, you’ll get away from here... or maybe he’ll hurt them too... you shook your head. trying to stay positive so you can get out of this hellhole.
a tall man with golden dyed locks entered the room along with someone who looked similar to him though their hair was different. honey brown eyes lock with your tired ones, you were hopeful when you saw the confusion in his eyes. 
the man looked back to suna who stood next to him, you knew you were saved when the two identical men glared at him but then they started talking--
“geez! here i thought you’ll be gentler now that you met your soulmate!”
“suna? gentle? like hell. now where’s the food. you promised me food, suna” 
your eyes got teary as you suppressed a gasp. of course, his friends were as insane as he was. 
the golden haired male then smiled at you like there was nothing wrong. like he doesn’t see all the fucking bruises on your body, “hey, darlin’~ suna’s been beating you, huh? were you misbehaving~?” 
suna growled at the man and shoved him, “shut the fuck up, atsumu” the two started bickering like everything was normal as they ignored you...
you sniffled and turned to the light nudged from your side, you looked at the other male that entered the apartment. the man offered you some pudding as a spoon was hanging from his lips. “you look like you need it, miss” he said, his face unfazed. 
you took the pudding with shaking hands and lowered your head as the three men walked around the room, conversing with each other. 
maybe, suna’s right... life would be easier if you just accepted him. you were stuck with him now and always and his name on your skin will forever be the reminder of that. 
fate has a weird way of pairing people up and you can’t do anything about it. 
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hotlineslasher · 4 years
Text
Interview With A Slasher
Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)
Word Count: 2.8K
Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard 
A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn
AO3 link
***
When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.
And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.
Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.
So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.
“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.
Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.
A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”
It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.
Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.
“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.
Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.
His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.
“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”
“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“
“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.
You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.
He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.
You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.
“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.
“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.
You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.
“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”
His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.
“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.
You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.
Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.
You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.
“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.
A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.
“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.
“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.
He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.
You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.
Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.
The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.
You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—
You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”
You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.
Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.
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minshookie · 3 years
Text
All Play, No Work. Pt two
Pairing | CEO!Yoongi x reader
Genre |angst, dark themed, yandere, gore.
Summary | “ Eunji just couldn’t play nice, firing her just wouldn’t be enough.”
!Warnings! 18+, yandere Yoongi, character death, descriptive scenes, murder scene, infidelity.
| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|
(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)
Requested [request closed] words 3k
A/N : link to part 1 I hope this is enjoyable!! Unedited but I will edit soon.
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“Yoongi, don’t talk so drastically...it was just a joke.” He heaved deeply, gripping the door handle severely. “It can’t be a joke every time y/n she’s done worse before, her and her husband.” Sighing, unsure if it was safe to touch him you put your hand on the handle next to his. “Min, they hate me because you love me, if you want it resolved maybe we should lay low...take something like a break?” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the complications at work were becoming a bit detrimental.
His head turned at lighting speed, with a look of disgust almost. “Break? You can’t be serious don’t ever say something like that again, and I’ll do what I please, we should we hide ourselves she’ll start waking around with her head high like she won.” He let go of the handle leaning against the door looking deeply into you. “I’ll fire her.” You rolled your eyes “Yoongi please she needs to work.” “Stop being so damn sweet, this is the same person that soiled your clothes, cracks jokes about you...she bullies you she should’ve been out of here.” He put his hand in his pocket, checking his watch on his other wrist. “We’re almost done for the day anyway... you go to my place without me I’ll meet you there.” Taking his watch clad hand in yours, you could tell he was still furious.
“Alright if you insist, but what’ll you be doing yoongs?” You attempted to turn the atmosphere playful. “Baby, you insist on disobeying my requests.” Chuckles dryly. “I’ll be talking to Kim, and Lucy.” “Lucy, why?” “I’m giving her Kim’s position, a promotion.” He leans swiftly pecking your cheek before opening the door for you both to exit, not giving you a chance at questioning him further. He follows closely behind all eyes on you, a grimace on Eunji’s features. It’s like you had a fat red target right in the middle of your face. “Actually, why don’t you just head out now.” Yoongi mumbled before leaving your side, quickly heading to his office his fist curled in a rough grip.
You hung your head low like a shy school girl, going to collect your bag and belongings from your cubicle. Only to find Jimin completing the papers you’d left. “Heading home miss Raman booty?” He mumbled without turning, a pen between his teeth, his fingers typing with stealth. “I hate you Jimin.” Laughing he let the pen fall, leaning in the chair finally facing you. “You ok?” You nodded giving a warm smile. “Good, here’s your thousand dollar sack.” He handed you your purse, he’s full of jokes today, you responded with a low chuckle. “Wait before you go, whats the 411 on the bosses mood?” “Mm angry, go in quickly and quietly and leave the same way.” He nodded going back to the computer, “Ah, so not the day for pay increase forms? Gotcha.” You laughed before walking away, ready to be rid of the grimy feeling you were getting from work today.
Avoiding eye contact, you focus on the rythmatic clicking of your pumps until you entered the silver elevator. Leaning against the glass window you watched as you descended through the building. Finally meeting the last floor quickly freeing yourself sighing one more trek to take, that being into the parking garage. Silent and eerie, it oddly relaxed you you found your car quickly. It’s always there right next to Yoongi’s ever since the first day you started.
The thought warmed you, feelings of your boyfriends love floating around you. Hopping in your car you threw the gifted purse in the back seat, just before you could start up your phone rang, Yoongi of course. “Hey Yoongi” ”Ah, you sound happier already.” Reclining your seat you sighed. “I was thinking of you.” He hummed in approval. “Cute, hm I do the same to calm myself...thinking of you of course.” Giggling you responded “reason for calling?” “I wanted to say I love you, and I want you to go straight home.” He orders blandly. “Tsk I wanted to shop a bit.” You joke putting your seat back into position. “Y/n straight home, no questions.” “Yeah I heard you Daddy.” You joked starting your vehicle. “Good, I’ll see you soon, love you...say it back.” “I love you Yoongi, of course.” He sighed softly, checking your surroundings you pulled back waiting for him to hang up. “Alright bye...Jimin get out.” The phone call ended.
Relaxed you drove through your city, it’s a bit later in the day the faces of people passing linger in your mind. A soft tune plays from the radio, resting at a light your eyes wandered to the beagle place Yoongi always insists on getting breakfast from. His friends little hole in the wall. Letting your mind wander, he really is a romantic. Finishing the length of the trip you finally reach your destination, a discreet apartment on the edge of town with a not so discreet price. Reaching for your purse you got out of the car, frankly mentally and physically exhausted. “Mrs min! Welcome back!” You’re warmly greeted at the door, “no still y/l/n,good afternoon.” Warmly you smile thanking him for opening the door, yet another elevator to take you where you needed to be.
On the home stretch, trudging towards the door unlocking it you fumbled inside sighing taking in his scent that floated about. With your eyes closed you dropped your bag shuffling to the couch. Kicking off the shoes you let gravity take over thumping onto the firm furniture. The light jingling, made a smile spread on your lips. “Is that my best boy!?” You opened your eyes, greeted with Min Holly his coffee colored paws giving you pets on your head. “My Beautiful little one.” Kissing him on the temple, and gifting him to a few pets and scratches he was satisfied with your greeting he let you be at rest.
Pulling from the couch, you fulfilled the routine of grabbing a snack and skipping upstairs to shower. Stripping you ventured Yoongi’s bedroom in the nude, in search for the clothes you’d left there. Giving up you opted for a pair of briefs and a t-shirt.
Finishing the shower, you cuddled into bed wallowing on the plush mattress in search of a comforting position, engulfing your senses in Yoongi’s scent. Turing on the tv you rolled over, the bed felt cold without your cuddle baby. “Hmm Holly! C’mere little boy!” Joyously he ran in jumping next to you cuddling into your warm side. “We’ll nap and wait for Daddy huh?”
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NOW READING FROM: Yoongi’s point of view.
“Are you sure Min, I mean I’m flattered but I just started about a month ago-” I held up my hand to stop her nervous speech. “I’m positive, I’ve observed your work ethic I’m sure you could keep up Lucy, the pay is great the work is easy....more time to speak to Jungkook hm?” Her cheeks blushed light rose at the mention of his name. “But what about uhm..Eunji?” She spoke of her coworker in hushed tones,like she was some sort of demon.
“Kim Eunji has been polluting our work area, making others feel uncomfortable...and uncomfortable means less work getting done, I’ll see about her don’t worry.” Toying with her manicured fingers, such a shy girl, “so what’s your answer?” She sighed brushing a stray hair behind her ear, “Mr Min, when do I start?” She held a coy smile, slowly looking up to make eye contact. “Ah! Smart girl!” I distributed my hand for her to shake in agreement. “You’ll start Monday, we’ll have it all sorted by then.” Nodding she let go of my hand, “thank you Mr Min.” “Of course Lucy I know I won’t regret it, enjoy your night sorry for keeping you late.” Now almost all of her face had a glow of blush, “oh it’s fine Mr Min I don’t mind I didn’t have anything to do tonight anyways, how a-” “ask Eunji to come in for me please, Good night Lucy thank you.”
Shutting up he gave a quick smile and nod before leaving quicker than she came. Eunji pranced in almost eagerly a subtle smirk playing on her cherry lips. “It’s late Yoongi I have to get home.” “Home to what...a cold shower and empty bed? Come sit.” I smirked as she complied, “what do you want Min...if you’re looking for apologies you wont-” “I just wanted to talk to you.” She shut her painted lips, nodding giving me room to speak.
“You’ve been acting out Kim, and I think I know why.” She folded her arms defensively humming a response. “Oh yeah?” Her cocky tone only deepened my concealed rage. “You’re missing someone, your husband maybe?” She rolled her eyes, poking her tongue along her cheek. “What about it?” She began to toy with the small figurines that decorated my desk. “Well, he misses you too...I’ve made the decision to let you go if you’d like.”
“It isn’t time for him to come back, he’s been on the trip for months.” She mumbles smiling down at a framed picture of Holly. Scoffing I took the image back, “Joon, he likes it there he’s been having issues contacting you so he’s said....but he’s made the choice to transfer and stay at the location.” She looked intensely Into my eyes, confused yet gullible.
“He’s gotten a good place, he wants to move you there...he misses you more than you know, and the way you’ve been acting out of line I think you feel the same.” She huffs, nodding slowly. “Alright, you’ll treat my flight the same you did his?” Greedy little bitch...“yes, paid and full, you’ll be able to contact him at the airport hm?” Finally a soft smile spreads her lips, she huffs a low chuckle. “Really?” “Would you like to see the messages and paperwork?”
In hopes she’d say no I still pulled open the side drawer, a single word held her fate as I gripped the heavy weapon. It would be messy and against the plan if she’d decided to take this route. “No..no, why would you lie about sending me on all expenses paid long term vacation.” I smirked nodding while closing the drawer. “So you’ve agreed to joining him?” Sighing she tamed wisps of her dark hair, raking the back into her loose ponytail.
I pushed the legal paper forward a ballpoint rests atop of it. “When do I leave, do I get a chance to say goodbye?” She mumbles leaving her signature along the dotted spaces. Goodbye? Who would want to farewell a she-demon like you. “I’m afraid not, your flight is scheduled for tomorrow 7AM...you should get home actually.” I checked my timepiece briefly.
She stood silently, “ah ah wait, Eunji...it’s late you’re tired allow me to drive you home.” She furrows her brows, giving a suspicious look. “I’ll miss you Kim, you were one of the first people here you and Namjoon.” She lowered herself in the seat her expression now compassionate.
I didn’t lie, Eunji was exhausted...the bags under her eyes almost frightening. She was once the best dressed, best looking, and best worker here. Jealousy had eaten her, and the absence of her Lover only made her worse. “Ah Min, you won’t miss me...you’re sending me away to protect your little hook up, she moan like I used to?” My cheeks began to redden, “no, her’s are better.” Guilt set in sourly. I lied right to y/n’s face to save my ass.
Kim Eunji had made me a liar, a cheater and a bad businessman...all the more reason for her fate. “Hm, if you say so.....how about we go to your place.” Her smirk detailed more than she’d let on. “One last time.” She’s always been scandalous, she could never learn a lesson, she’d never get enough. She saw an opportunity to finally sink her teeth into what she envied, and sinking her teeth is what she planned on doing.
“Tempting, can’t wait for mr kim huh?” I attempted to participate in her now lustful staring. “Hmm, you won’t make me will you?” I set free a chuckle, letting my fingertips glide my lip. “Your place, we can make it an all night thing...you can bring me to get my car in the morning.” She collected her expensive shoulder bag. “No, y/n is at my place, probably out cold by now....I’ll bring you somewhere with a romantic view, you’ll get back to your car tonight.” She frowned at the mention of her name, pulling her wisps of hair back.
“Fine, but don’t say her name anymore tonight.” Nodding I stood offering a hand to help her up and she refused with a bratty giggle, leaving the office. She removed her heels walking barefoot to the elevator, I paced hot on her trail, finally catching her as she stood idle in the spacious elevator.
The elevator couldn’t reach the final floor fast enough for me, she’d gotten comfortable the guilt of cheating on her husband nonexistent. Sighing in frustration eyeing my watch. She toyed with my fingers leaning against me, “why’d you replace me huh?” She pouted interlocking our fingers, her fridged rings kissed my skin harshly. “Excuse me?” She sighed, “we were messing around and you...found y/n.” I chuckled as the doors pulled open. “You were engaged...nothing more would’ve developed anyway.”
Eunji and I had held countless endeavors right under Namjoon’s nose, flirtatious, casual, sexual. But he was everything but oblivious, he was just lenient until he found out the depth of our friendship. So he decided to test the waters with y/n, it was extremely unacceptable. Eunji was engaged after all, I do have some self respect. I never replaced her, I just found someone I actually loved, someone who needed me and only me.
She only laughed at my reasoning, following me giddily to my car, I opened the passenger and let her inside. I already had her fate planned. She’d been the thorn in y/n’s side ever since she’d started, she’d come running to me in tears over the things Eunji would say...the things she’d do. They treated her like a rag doll the new girl fresh to adulthood, she knew nothing better than to follow and comply.
Eunji was given warning after warning, I hate firing people but for her I’d make an exception. But y/n she’s so sweet...it’ll kill her to know Eunji was walking around jobless because of her sensitivity. So what am I to do? I’ll just make her leave silently...on her own. I’ll make her disappear.
“Where are we going?” She pushed my knee aggressively, I’d zoned out completely roaming my thoughts a dangerous thing to do behind the wheel. Absentmindedly I’d driven past our false “date”, ultimately finding ourselves in the dark. “There is this bridge, it’s romantic y/n loves it.” I fibbed, how much of an idiot could I be...this mishaps could fuck everything I’d planned. I pulled onto said bridge, vacant, thankfully just how I needed it. I turned the car off, in pitch black I could feel her looking at me.
“Huh, what a view.” She quips, “well don’t be ungrateful.” The moment before the fall is always awkward, “hm...recline the seat.” She ordered, I personally didn’t enjoy her tone. I let my seat slowly fall back and she leaned over the center console. Blindly fiddling my pant buckle. Oh shit. Oh no. Waves of guilt washed over me at the simple thought of what she was attempting.
This had to be it, she’d made it to my briefs with ease, trailing her manicured fingers along my member. This had to happen now or the outcome I’d been planning would definitely go to shit. I put an end to her exploration, gripping the back of her neck with great force she mewled like a harmed animal. “F-fuck Min, feeling rough?”
No way would this be easy or clean in the car. “Shut up.” I gritted, now griping her hair making her whine and cry out. “P-please wait.” “What the fuck did I say?” Opening my door I pulled her from the car on my side. This needed to be quick and clean, this bridge was all too public and constantly frequented for me to be leaving a messy scene on.
What smart girl, she tried to escape only to be pained by my iron grip on her mane. “Why so scared...you wanted me right?” “M-m-Min! Please I’m sorry, tell her I’m sorry...sorry-so sorry.” I kicked the pit of her knee causing her to collapse on the cold gravel. “One sorry Bitch you are, I couldn’t even pay you to keep your mouth shut.”
“Think of all you did to that innocent woman...ruined her clothes, sent her on wild goose chases in a county she’s never been in, made her fall down the stairs, turned half the office against her...so evil you even made your sleazy husband her personal predator.” She sobbed pathetically, “w-what....he did-wait?” Of course she was unaware as any idiot would be.
I knelt mumbling in her ear. “He touched my fucking girlfriend for months on end...She was so ashamed do you know how much it took for her to come and tell me?” She gagged on her sobs, choking herself on her cries. “I’m sorry, I’ll quit I’ll leave-no need to do this I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
She whispers letting her body go limp. She thinks it’s so easy. “You sure will.” I grumbled reaching to pull my tie from my back pocket. “You can’t do shit to me- Joon- Joon will be lo-” “Joon his fucking dead. This right here.” I kicked her down pressing my foot into her soft back, to keep her still. She struggled to breath with my weight on her back, I crouch looping the long tie around her neck she ceased from fighting back as I wrapped it around my hands as well. Pulling with my angered strength, “this is the fucking business trip...enjoy the flight whore.”
She stoped struggling all together, pulling the fabric as tight as I could, I made sure the deed was done. She quit breathing, the ceased the struggle. Violently making sure she was gone, before I stored her in the trunk. My hands shook, the rush made my figure quake, I did my best to climb into the drivers seat.
Starting the car, it’s best in mind to flee as fast as I arrived. He’ll be pissed to high heaven, but at this moment theirs only one person to call. I scanned the road feeling beyond the edge, unsure of my final destination. Finally he felt the need to answer “Min, Min Yoongi-ah it is too late to be calling me this way!” He croaked through the phone .
“Jimin, hm a bonus?” “Excuse me?” He shuffled, I couldn’t continue to circle around here “Jimin...I need your help.” I groaned, I’d have to find somewhere to go before someone saw me driving suspiciously. “I’ve made another mistake....a messy one.” He gasped before mumbling complaints. “Why,Who and how much?” He grumbled, “meet me and I’ll let you know that.” “You know where to find me.” When all else fails, Jimin is the one to call. Partner in crime, cheater of justice and death.
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NOW READING FROM : readers point of view.
Fear rolled over you as you came to the realization that is was almost 5 AM and Yoongi wasn’t in bed. Holly still occupied his spot, sprawled out in pure comfort. Enjoying the luxury of sleeping in the big bed.
Rubbing sleep from your eyes you shuffled your feet along the chilly floor, slipping in Yoongi’s slippers to adventure to the bathroom. You’d have to be back at work in some hours, Yoongi as well. It’s never like him to be late. After reliving yourself, washing up you’d realized the dryness of your mouth.
Aiding the feeling you took the trip downstairs, Holly’s paws hot on ur heels. “You thirsty too?” Rhetorically you questioned setting his dish for him, and grabbing a water for yourself, drinking it almost instantly. “You’ll get sick that way kitten.”
You choked in response, spitting the water onto the marbled counter. “What the fuck Yoongi, where’ve you been?” You spoke into the darkness, you didn’t hear him come in, maybe he was already home. “After I cleared some things up at work, Jimin and I had to...do some heavy work.” His voice held a quiver, unsure if it was of sadness or fear, maybe even anger.
“Ah well....come out of the dark, come over here.” You closed the the water, Holly had already met him in the living room. He neared, his features being shown from the glow of the kitchen lights. “Here, c’mon.” You sat on the island, back to him.
Something was off...he was hiding something, he was moving strangely with his words and actions. He came, leaving Holly on the floor he centers between your legs. Leaning on his palms on either side of you, “my shirt, my slippers, dressing up as me today?” You gave a soft smirk, “when’d you change?”
“At Jimin’s the work was messy.” “Ah...what’s that on your lip?” Taking your nail, you scrapped the flake of red from his top lip. “Been kissing other ladies...ladies in cheap red lipstick?” You giggled. His face ran pale at your joke, “n-no probably from Parks food, we were hungry.” You gazed in his eyes, “what’d you eat?” “Why?” Sighing you blew it off, “no reason, just curious...how’d it go with Eunji.”
He sighed leaned forward on the counter to stretch his back. It’s then when you caught a glimpse of something odd. “There was a struggle, but it’s all over now.” You held his shoulders, stopping him from moving back up, “Yoongi, you have this stuff all in your hair, where were you?” You brushed the stubborn dried substance with your fingers. “All on your neck.” You groomed him awaiting his answer. “Painting at Jimin’s.” Overpowering you he stood to his height.
You didn’t believe him, how could you? What paint job takes that long? How could it get on his hair? Down his neck? On his lips...nose as well? “I’m going to bed, kiss.” He pecked my cheek moving from my legs, Holly followed his escape. “Oh, and Jimin’s buddy gonna look at my car for a while I had to clean it out...left your lipstick.” He threw the tube for you to catch, it fell in your clutches.
“Yoongi, stop...where’d you get this?” “In the car, it’s yours baby.” He stood stiff on the stairs not turning around. “No, it’s not I can’t wear this...it fucks up my lips, I’m allergic.”
“It was Kim’s huh? You were out doing what you said you didn’t.” He turned glaring sinisterly. “I was out doing what I should’ve a while ago.”
You scoffed, he’s unbelievable, how could he. You’d began to plan your breakdown, how you’d destroy his home in a fit of rage. He’d cheated, lied, and didn’t care. “Kim Eunji and Kim Namjoon are dead.” He shared coldly, “any more questions miss curiosity?”
“No? Good now come up and clean me.”
In utter shock, you shook on top of the kitchen island. He’d made his way to the shower quickly, you heard the faint sprinkling. Sliding from your seat, in fear you followed his orders “now my love...don’t be afraid of me I do all things for you out of love.”
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Minshookie 2021 | Not my image
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