#guess who finally grinded enough to get the only emote that matters :]

[ink--theory]

La criatura de Don Oso, S.A.

[thatwritingho]

Strap... Pregnancy?

Pairing: Relish Rating: Explicit Summary: What the title says! A direct follow up to Strap Breeding. Completely AU! Inspired by the posts going around about strap getting you pregnant in the mtl universe, and by my buddy m3ga's strap pregnancy post! Also featuring Robin Greeves, who belongs to m3ga! Tagging: @m3gahet

Read on AO3 here!

It wasn't until weeks later that news of a mysterious new strap-on which was magically causing pregnancy caught Pickles’ eye, the drummer freezing at the headline, blood running cold. He didn't fully understand the science of it, nor did he care to, as the important facts stood out — the strap increased libido of the wearer, allowing them to cum harder, mixing in their own bodily fluid with the cum lube, warping the structure of their genetic makeup only enough to allow copulation.

Pickles had been ravenous these last few weeks, fucking like an animal while mostly using his favorite new squirting strap-on. A strap-on, it was now dawning on him, that made him cum really, really hard. A strap-on that he rarely had to refill.

Oh.

Fuck.

Olive had her tubes tied, but… she had been waking up sick the last few days, had been moodier than usual, and come to think of it… when was her last period?

And… when was Robin's?

Oh.

FUCK.

When he made it to Olive's room, he found her in her bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in hand, another on the black marble counter. He could see the two lines on both sticks from where he stood.

When she didn't speak, he inhaled a breath, floundering for words but beginning a sentence all the same, "Oliv-"

"Did you see the news, too?"

Mouth dry, he nodded, "Y-yeah."

"Incredible, huh?"

Pierced brows furrowed, "I-I guess, dat's one words fer it, but-"

"I mean, like, scientifically. That this can even happen at all... it's incredible, huh? Like, how amazing is this? For humanity as a whole? For all the couples who couldn't have children together before, and now they can? Like, holy shit!" Olive's face had lit up, eyes sparkling as she spoke. It was adorable, but Pickles' stomach sunk further the longer she avoided the problem at hand, "And, the doors that have been opened, here, altering genetic material to this level without compromising the integrity of-"

"Olive. Honey. Sweetheart," Pickles interrupted before she could go further, approaching her with weak knees to grip her shoulders in trembling hands, kneeling to her level, attempting to be strong for her, "...yer pregnant."

Dark eyes closed for a moment, and he could tell she was grinding her tongue ring on her teeth. Her gaze met his again, and she nodded, 'Yeah. I know."

Pickles released a shuddering, shaky breath, 'O-okee. So, uh," he hated to ask, because it didn't really matter, but it also did, "Do you, uh, yanno. Do yah know who's it is?"

Pursing her lips, she nodded — Pickles had been insatiable for weeks, and as such she had been largely tangled up with him, sleeping with the other guys less frequently.

"No one else has cum inside in weeks."

Blood turning to ice in his veins, Pickles nodded, nervously thumbing over her shoulders, "Okee. Okee. So, uh... what-" he licked his lips, closing his eyes, head spinning a bit as he attempted to process this whirlwind of circumstance. Again, he hated to ask, but it was a question that needed to happen, "what do yah wanna do?"

Her small, warm hand cupped his face, and Pickles leaned into the comforting touch.

"Hey. Breathe. Don't need you fainting on me, baby."

Nodding, Pickles inhaled a few deep breaths, laying his head in her lap.

"What do you want to do?"

"It's yer body, babe. It's up to you if yah wanna go through with this."

Silence enveloped them for a few moments, his hand finding hers. Finally, she spoke, voice soft, "I- I can't believe I'm saying this, but... I don't know. And... I guess my answer not immediately being "No," like I thought it would, means..."

Pickles lifted his head, green eyes meeting dark, a flurry of mixed emotions in both their eyes.

"So... you wanna have a baby?"

"I- I think so..." Olive couldn't believe herself, couldn't believe the words she was saying. But as she gazed down at Pickles, she knew her answer, "Yeah. Yes. Do... do you?"

Swallowing, Pickles felt tears burn the backs of his eyes, throat tightening. Lips pressing to her knuckles in a kiss, he nodded, "Y-yeah."

A smile lit up her face, and Pickles melted, "Olive, I-"

A swift knock to the door frame interrupted, a shock of soft blonde hair popping through the threshold, and Pickles blanched.

Fuck.

This was not how he wanted to talk to Robin about this!

"Olive, I really need to talk to you. It's important," Dark eyes took in the scene before her, widening as they landed on the two sticks on the counter, "Fuck... you, too?"

Dark eyes mirrored hers, widening comically, shocked, "Me, too? So, then you're..."

"Yeah."

"Damn...” With a small, nervous giggle, Olive shook her head to clear her thoughts, then held out a hand, reaching for the blonde, “What're the odds?”

Robin hesitated for a moment, glancing down to Pickles, then back to Olive, but strode forward to hold her hand nonetheless, squeezing tightly as Olive ran her thumb over Robin's knuckles.

Robin knew the answer already, but had to be sure, so asked with bated breath, "Do you know who the father is?”

“Yeah…” Olive nodded down to the drummer still knelt before her, "Crazy, right? What about you?"

The atmosphere became tense, the air thick. Robin was quiet, then exhaled a held breath, murmuring a small fuck it. Squeezing Olive's hand, she nodded down to the drummer, as well.

When Olive froze, Robin feared she would be angry, somehow, despite Olive knowing Robin and Pickles were involved. But after a few tense moments of Robin and Pickles both squeezing the absolute life out of Olive's hands, she giggled.

And kept giggling.

Continuing on until it became full blown laughter, releasing their hands to cover her face as she snorted, Robin and Pickles staring at her in shock. Though, Pickles couldn't help but begin to laugh as well, Olive's infecting him, and soon he was doubled over with his head in her lap.

It took a few moments longer, but, when Olive leaned her head against Robin's stomach for support, weak with the laughter shaking her, and placed a soft hand on Robin's lower abdomen, giggling out "We're... we're both... he got us both... with a STRAP!" Robin broke, too, giggles overtaking her, snorting her laughter right along with Olive. Robin’s hand sought out the one over her womb, laying softly over Olive’s, a gentle warmth filling her chest as the three continued to laugh over the ridiculous situation. With a snort, Robin managed to speak between giggles,

“Pregnant by a fucking strap.”

[idontunderstandchemistry]

Uncomfortable - Tim Drake (2/3)

Summary: [...] "Are you saying you are afraid of me?" "I wouldn't say afraid" Dick said, trying to sound casual "It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel..." "Uncomfortable?" Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick "The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick?" [...] Extremely hurt Tim Drake living out of coffee and spite.

Wordcount: 930

Content Warnings: Angst; Deeply depressed Tim having deeply depressed people thoughts.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting, i feel like I'm almost selling my soul to finally get into college... Anyways, hope you're enjoying for now. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ❣️

Be careful and stay hydrated!

P.S.: Don't judge Timmy for being an asshole, specially about his "I'll simply close my eyes and ignore Cass" because, guess what, deeply tdepressed people ignore their loved ones quite oftenly.

Part 1 - Part 3

CHAPTER TWO - THE SOFA

Tim hated when Steph wasn’t around. 

She and Cass were the only ones he wouldn’t ever deny to be in the presence. Steph knew her limits and always made sure to be whatever Tim needed her to be, and for that, he was very grateful. Cass too. Maybe it was part of her naturally silent nature. Tim could simply enjoy being silent alongside her, and, even if she tried to communicate with him through sign language, he could simply be an asshole and close his eyes, turn away or pretend he didn’t see. 

He found himself being quite an asshole to them recently, and for that, he felt bad. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about it. Tim simply hadn’t had the energy to try. 

So he decided to spend more time alone. Good thing the Manor had more than enough rooms for him to hide. Obviously, he had to avoid the closets and the kitchen. Alfred somehow had a spider sense about them and appeared immediately after he felt in his bones that someone dared to get inside his beloved kitchen. So now he was seated in the sofá of one of the living rooms with his laptop, working on a case.

Everything was fine, until Bruce stealthy got inside the room and sat beside Tim, who pretended not to care. 

Some years ago, he would be thrilled by his appearance - Bruce's emotional intelligence range was equal to a teaspoon, so when Tim was still little, every opportunity he had to try to win a piece of Bruce’s attention was unique. Tim could remember every frustrated bonding attempt he made towards Bruce. 

He remembered how much he tried to break Bruce’s walls down and how everytime he got some success, Bruce was quick in building up some more. It took him some years to realise that no matter how much he tried, he would never be like Dick or Jason to Bruce. He wasn’t chosen by him, he didn’t try to be his father figure, Tim already had a father. His relationship with Bruce was purely professional. 

Batman needs a Robin, and Tim was willingly going to do the job. 

Just so all that he ever worked for was taken away from him by Mr. “I don't want to be THE Batman anymore” and given to an entitled brat who tried to kill him.

Tim could hear his teeth grinding against each other in anger. He hated this fucking family.

— Are you going to tell me what's going on, Tim? — Bruce asked, hearing his son’s jaw clench and his eyes stare at the screen in a cold peace.

— No, I am not — The young man said, slowly, feeling his guts filling with rage.

It was simply too convenient for Bruce to choose when he was able to care about the children he brought into his life and decided to call his children. Simply too convenient to choose when he was going to be an available father figure and when he was going to be distant, when he was going to suffocate you with his uneasy stare because of his inability of simply taking conclusions about what was in front of him. Best detective in the world my ass. 

Bruce let out a deep sigh. He was tired.

— Tim, when you have a problem, you need to talk about it. We are your family, we want to help. — He said after some time.

— Well, it seems like my family gets “uncomfortable” when I talk about the problems, so I decided I simply won't talk about them at all — Tim answered, not caring about how bitter he sounded. He didn’t care that Bruce was tired. He didn’t care about any of that shit anymore — If I need help, I'll hire a therapist. I'm pretty sure I can afford It.

Bruce sighed again.

— I love you, Tim. Don't forget that.

Tim laughed bitterly, what scared Bruce. Once again, Tim found himself being an asshole. He had this particular laugh that freaked the whole family: a laugh mastered during the time when he was Joker Jr. He could see Bruce flinch in discomfort and his pupils filled with fear. They were afraid he was going to snap at any time. Good. They had reason enough to be afraid.

— You don't love me, Bruce — He simply said,closing the laptop angrily and getting up — Jason was dead, Dick was pissed and nobody else was stupid enough to try to get through your emotional walls. You had nobody else. You chose to keep me because you had nobody else. Batman needs a Robin and I were there to do the work, I got it. You don’t have to be a genius to know that.

— Tim, that's absolutely not true...

— I'm going to my chambers — Tim simply said.

— I am not done, Timothy!

— If you try to stop me, this will be the last time you'll ever see me around apart from patrol.I’m already emancipated, I’ll move out and Timothy Drake will never willingly cross paths with Bruce Wayne or any of his children again — The words came out of Tim's mouth like water from a tap. Absolutely fluid and cold. He had nothing else to lose, anyway, and he had already lived  away from the Manor for many months before. He surely could do this again. Bruce couldn't say a thing. He was too shocked by his son's attitude — Do both of us a favour and stop pretending to care. We both know you don't.

Bruce was too shocked to even let out a sigh.

[thatonegayship]

Hello, wonderful writer! I hope this reblog finds you well. I’m currently on leave due to a family emergency (rip gran-gran) and was unable to obtain a decent laptop until today; my sincerest apologies. While I read your post the day of its release, I’m afraid more pressing matters preoccupied the brunt of my free time, meaning I’ve only just now found the time to construct a reply to all of your hard work. Rest assured! I’ve gone over your document several times, and I hope my feedback meets expectations. Happy Ides of March! Go team!

-Yours truly, 

Thatonegayship

Okay, soooo ;3

Alright, so this starts out cute as shit, let’s start there, because like. How fucking adorable is it to see Dipper all awkward and horny over his husband, who’s off on “business,” while he just sits there trying to preoccupy himself with note-taking? I can’t tell if Dipper chooses to do any of this in the first place because Bill’s finally out of the house and it’s a small opportunity to get shit done, or because it’s the best way he knows how to make time move forward while he waits for his husband to come back. 

Either way, it’s so clear that he’d rather be doing other stuff (*Cough cough* Bill *Cough Cough*) than the boring nerd thingies he usually gets up to. I can just hear him thinking to himself, that these things honestly are boring, in the same way Bill would complain about it. Dipper’s usually the one to defend his habits, but without someone out there to go after his note-taking, he’s left to just sit around and accept that maybe it is boring, and he never noticed until something (Someone) started spicing up his life. And now he’s just gotta sit and wait for that spice to come back, poor thang ;-;

Oh, but he is a SAUCY thing today, isn’t he? Or. Well. Maybe that’s selling him short, he’s gotten much better about taking initiative. Let’s see: There’s the first time they had sex, and the leash thing, and when Bill wasn’t paying enough attention to him. Honestly, he has a far more impressive track-record than he’s given credit for. 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s usually the one down to clown, even if Bill’s the horn-dog constantly shoving a hand down the front of his pants. Not to say Bill isn’t pushy for that bussy, but it’s a lot more equal than I realized now that I’m actually sitting down to think about it. Especially since the kinky stuff; Dipper’s been super vocal. I misjudged him, your honor. He is, in fact, cock-starved.

I love Bill’s stupid little text messages. You just know he’d be taking his anger out on literally anybody else if it weren’t Dipper on the other side of that screen. It’s so sweet to imagine this man having a bad day with a whole list of things going wrong and blowing up in his face (literally), and as he’s grinding his teeth, he shoots Dipper like 40 messages venting his frustration. Bill’s a chatty guy, and it’s not like you can really avoid seeing him upset when you know him long enough, but it’s so intimate for him to go to Dipper first with his anger. Not to take anything out on him. Just to share that emotion. It’s very sweet, I think, because you know he sees Dipper like an emotional support human :3

Yes, Bill is a sexy demon. He is also covered in slime. Dipper has standards v_v You go, girl.

Everything else can be summarized as “jjkdhjshadjkashdwe,” but we can do better than that, I guess.

Oh, to be so, so horny <3 God, we are really just letting this man become a stay at home husband serving cunt for dinner, aren’t we? And lord knows Bill eats it up every night before going back for seconds, thirds and fourths. Both of you. Dirty. Disgraceful. I love it. 

THE RETURN OF THE COLLAR!!!! We love to see it <3 <3 <3 It’s always great seeing Dipper take that final sexy step to seduce his demonic husband, and even better when he learns from his mistakes (Clothes are irreverent for this part, come on dude.) I will never get over Bill tilting his head up to latch that leash on jhfjdhsjkhsakhds Like yes, let Dipper be conquered and owned in the most literal of ways. Let him submit. The collar + leash combo is top-tier freaky sex stuff and I am here for it always. Always.

Now, you and I BOTH know I'm a sucker for edging. This whole thing stinks of it, to the point where I almost felt bad for poor Dipper... Almost. Sadly, I was not convinced that he didn't deserve it, therefore he gets all the sexual frustration.

But first. Voyeurism.

Okay, so like, I feel like I need to explain why this activity in particular is so goddamn sexy to me, because it doesn't do the feelings justice to just say "mmm yes touching penis so so hot." We had Dipper saying not too long before how anyone else receiving nudes from him would only reply to his efforts with an "Ew, why?" But thank God Bill finds him so attractive, right? It's just, Dipper has such an unhealthy self-image, you know as the viewer (and also self-congratulatory fangirls) that he's not even half the gremlin he thinks he is in his own head, but he doesn't know that.

He thinks any real attempt he makes at being seductive and coy and appealing is gonna fall flat on its face, and he'll just end up embarrassing himself in the process. Why bother, right? Maybe in his head, It's not even the body Bill likes, but the sensations attached to them. He wants how it feels. It's only when he realizes that Bill honestly thinks he's hot that he starts getting a little more vocal about things, more forward about what he wants, what he's willing to do. For example, masturbate in front of his husband. Despite not thinking he's hot shit, he knows Bill thinks the opposite, and that incentivizes him to be a lil more sexy, and just do what feels good. There's no shame! Bill loves to see every inch of him!

And also it's so satisfying to read Bill getting turned on just at the sight of Dipper. No need for stimulation when his husband is already the full package after all. To see him literally derive pleasure from Dipper touching himself, getting off on the things he does to feel good, and knowing he's only getting more and more turned on the more Bill speaks??? JHFJKSAKJHFJKH

God, that "Spread your Legs" line is gold. Honestly, anything pertaining to Bill ordering Dipper around turns my brain to mush. Dipper's usually so stubborn, he doesn't just move when Bill tells him to move, so seeing him follow along with what's cooking up in his husband's head is so much more special. It gives us a glimpse into what Dipper's willing to do, and how comfortable he feels actually doing them- not to mention we already know Dipper's a brat, and half the fun of pushing against orders is when you finally fall in line V_V

Bill playing with Dipper's chest??? 10/10. I am all for the tongue and teeth and pinching, a nice big ol' ice cream swirl of pain and pleasure, just UGH! It doesn't get any better than that. I love reading about Bill trying to work the sounds out of Dipper, because it's always such a battle between them. Even when he's so clearly enjoying himself, Dipper just has to make things difficult. Otherwise, he "loses." At least, that's how it used to be. Thankfully, they've come to an understanding, and the noises he makes afterwards are music to Bill's ears <3

Dipper communicating his desires has been a long uphill battle, but it's so nice to see more and more of that wonderful progress with each update!! Yes, it certainly DOES feel good, but you know what would be even better? All those little thoughts you have running around in your head. That "Just one?" line killed me honestly. Smh he's getting too spoiled V_V. The best part is knowing that Bill can always do worse (better), and Dipper- if anything- is just playing with fire whenever he complains like that. Don't ever say you can handle more, because Bill will give you so much more.

I'm glad Dipper decides to toss his inhibitions to the wind, since the proceeding sexiness is absolutely mouth-watering. Using the leash for bondage purposes is o//o very nice. It's nice to see Dipper all tied up and helpless against this demon, and even better knowing, no matter how frustrated he may be, he honestly likes it. That's the real kicker. He can't even hide how much he enjoys it, the proof's right there for Bill to see and tease him for.

"He'll make Dipper wait until it almost hurts." JHJKDSHAKJDHAKHQ I LOVE THAT LINE

Not my sadist self going crazy for those subtle pain + pleasure moments of being like "Ugh, don't do that" and "ooooOOOOOOAAAA!!!!" So good, I love it.

Bill is such a bastard for the way he treated Dipper during this whole experience, and by that I mean he is King. The way he just draws back from Dipper when he starts chasing after his fingers?? How he starts easing in, only to pull out just as fast, and when Dipper tries getting him inside, he only slips over him??? OOOOO YES YES MORE OF THAT SO MUCH MORE OF THAT I LOVE IT THANK YOU SIR/MA'AM THAT IS WHAT WE CALL EDGING AND TEASING IN ITS PUREST STATE I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THAT CHKJSDHJKHEKW

I'm not even at the part that drove me fucking wild, which was when Bill came inside of him (Without letting Dipper come). Okay, okay, so. This is like-. Oh my gosh, I don't even have the exact words for it, it just is. Forgive me for having rather extreme kinks, but I'm all for that whole "Using your body as a means to get off without letting you finish so that you can squirm and beg and feel that little bit of me still inside of you." It's degrading, but it's also objectifying in a very horny way. Sort of to say that Bill does it because that's what Dipper's built for, and Dipper derives pleasure from it for the exact same reason. Does that make sense? Like. That's supposed to happen to him, the same way you write with a pencil or sit in a chair or eat with a fork. Bill coming inside of him, and Dipper not being able to finish, it's like. I don't know. I can't put it into words, but I very much enjoyed it 😌

I guess it can pretty much be summarized when Dipper says "Like, I want it, and I don't have to say it, you just come over and have me, because you want me, 'cause I feel too good." The dots are connecting in my brain, but I can't explain exactly what I mean, just that this pretty much sums it up for me. A kind of Free Use agreement, but only for Bill, to do whatever he wants to Dipper, because that's what he's there for, and that's what he's best at, and that's what he likes.

I'm so happy for Dipper finally being transparent about what he likes; really made that "Do you like it more when I fuck you or when my cock's in your mouth" line 1000x more sexy. Oh, you don't know??? You can't choose between getting taken from behind and letting him fuck your throat??? DJFHWJHFEWHFWKJFH

Whore dilemma smh

Also when he says Bill is "Too Big." 👀 Wow 👀 Interesting

The way he likes it rough, ugh. God-tier content right there, that's what I'm here for. I have so much I wanna say about this smut but it just keeps going and going and going the more I think about it. Just, everything is so sexy and awesome, and your brain is fantastic as ever, I love you 3000 and all that mess.

The mirror sex was so good, I lost my freaking mind when I realized what was happening. The way that Bill just admires what he's done to Dipper, and now Dipper can see it too, and he sees what he looks like during sex, it's so perverted. I think my favorite part is when Dipper watches Bill go inside of him, and he's like oh wow that looks way more impossible than it actually is, because Bill, of course, has the fattest cock in all of existence and it's just impressive to get the head in. You sir, are a true hero, taking as much as you did. The fact that he can FEEL it, too. Oh my god, that was so freaking awesome. Don't even @ me about anatomical correctness or what human bodies can and can't do. Bill is IN those guts. I can't express enough how much I love that Dipper can feel him inside because it's just so much and so big and Bill is fucking smug the whole time about his massive ego being the size of a blimp.

This is the sort of cock you get reincarnated dreaming about late at night before bolting out of bed with a raging boner. Poor Dipper thinks he's microscopic for a while because Bill's dick is the only real dick he's ever encountered offline. Everyone before was like "Porn is unrealistic! Dicks aren't all giants like they make them seem! It's just smoke and mirrors!" Made him feel a bit better before, but once he started doing the do with Bill, it was like- Oh god, wait, oh fuck.

That whole push-pull thing as Bill sits Dipper down on his cock is *chef's kiss* fantastic. The way he inches him down, only to pull back up until the head nearly pops out, and then he slides him down just a little bit further, and Dipper can't do anything but watch as it happens. It's so tantalizing. Pure fucking torture, the best kind. Dipper's about as impatient as it gets, and now he's gotta just wait for Bill to let him take his cock. How are you so good at writing???

Bill calling Dipper a "Good Boy" is always a yes from me and the fact that there's still evidence of his last time leaving traces on his cock 👀 I just feel like the farther these two go, the more depraved and sexy it gets, and I love it. Dipper seems like the type who loves being praised, but he's also messed up enough to enjoy the humiliation of a pretty degrading pet name. All of those scenarios he thought about while Bill fucked him, wowowowowwow!!!!! I'm all for hearing more about what Dipper wants done to him, it's especially interesting to read. Imagine Bill bursting in on him and just taking him, regardless of what he was doing before. Oh my God, Dipper would love that. Like, he'd be super confused, but still! I can absolutely see him being hauled up by the elbow and fucked face-first against the desk, all because Bill wanted to, and Dipper's always "free" in that way. Cock-sucking is always divine to read, but what really got me was the cock-warming. There aren't nearly enough stories where Bill sits Dipper in his lap or has him kneel between his legs all day with his cock inside of him, just in case he feels like fucking him, or using his mouth. Bill could be doing work, or at some kind of meeting, or a banquette of some kind, and his mortal husband would be locked around him for that single utility the whole time. I have many opinions on it v_v Good shit

And after ALL of that, they weren't even done because Bill STILL wanted to give Dipper another orgasm. This is what it's all about. If you're married to a demon, or if you are a demon and you're married to a human, aspire for this level of intimacy, always 🫡

Amazing work, I loved every second of it, and I hope you are resting (as you should) after such a monumental story. You're wonderful and talented and I love you I love you I love you. Oky, now to read this all over again <3

28.7% of you voted for this filth

NSFW! Here's some smut.

This won the poll, and here's what I ended up giving you in return. My condolences for this entire thing. 😔

Highlight below for kink/content warnings

Dom/sub, mild bondage, dirty talk, prostate massage, creampie/cum kink, mirror sex

Now here's the actual fic!

Dipper forces himself to turn away from his phone.

He takes a deep breath. Tapping his pen on the paper, where he has notes to make. Really important ones. In theory. 

Right now, he could be making progress on any of the dozen mysteries on his plate, or unraveling another half-dozen demonic plots.

Hell, there’s even peace and quiet. 

Being in Bill’s bedroom - their bedroom - means he has something like. Well. A secret lab, though a weird one. Definitely a private sanctum. Their room in the Fearamid is a profoundly private space to work in -  as long as Bill's not around - because nobody else would ever dare intrude. 

Time, and space, and power. Knowledge, even. Everything Dipper could ever ask for. For finding focus. For doing good.

Dipper catches himself looking at his phone again. This time, he gives it the glare it truly deserves.

It really is gaudy as hell, isn’t it. An eyesore if there ever was one. What a shame that magical function doesn’t always fit an aesthetic; golden’s what he’s stuck with, as long as he wants this thing to work.

The flipside is that nobody can deny that his phone’s very functional. 

No other device has interdimensional reception. Making calls even between other realms of existence, texting between worlds. Best phone connection in this segment of the multiverse, courtesy of one accidental life bond.

Dipper can’t exactly sell the patent, though. Since it’s partially created from semi-illegal bits scavenged from Ford’s lab, partly from a concoction of spells of his own creation -

And partly from Bill’s own exoskeleton. Hence the gaudiness.

Plus the internet gets finicky, which is kind of a hiccup. And while a life-bond makes it work, the average magic-user doesn’t have a good conversationalist at the other end. Sometimes the connection gets garbled, or the thing itself corrupts other magic around it. Apparently it radiates an aura, too. One that Dipper can’t feel, but is ‘vaguely creepy’.

But even Bill admitted the design was impressive, and that’s an accomplishment in any entity’s book. Sincere compliments from Bill freakin’ Cipher are very, very hard-won. He’s seen basically everything, knows so much, and what Dipper came up with was, quote, ‘pretty cool!’. 

Inevitably, Dipper finds himself staring at his stupid phone again.

It’s the way it catches the light, he swears. He’d spraypaint it if he could without compromising the spellwork. Like the major part of its physical makeup, it’s ridiculous, showy, and overly complicated. 

And oddly tempting.

Dipper keeps tapping his pen, point down, on the paper. He doesn’t have anything to write down at the moment, though he feels like he should. Even though he has the time to work out a thousand other things, a million investigations, his thoughts keep drifting towards. Other stuff.

Which is so dumb. Dipper could be doing any number of things, with all the power and knowledge he has on hand. Unfortunately, his stupid brain and dick are full of ideas too, and they’re ganging up on him. It’s very distracting.

If only things were more difficult, this wouldn’t be an issue.

Because if Dipper really wants a distraction, it's a phone call away. Basically no effort at all. He could have it within minutes - theoretically - because Bill tends to like this sort of thing. He’d be game for it, any time.

Dipper plants his elbows on his desk, and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

But there’s so many reasons not to do it. 

Bill’s not here, for one. Dipper would be interrupting his entire ‘business’ day, and throwing a wrench into his ‘work’. He doesn’t know precisely what Bill’s up to this time, but there’s thousands of plans Bill could be enacting. Millions of beings to torment, or terrify. Bugging him for something this petty, pointless, and kind of perverted, is -

…Another reason Bill would like it. 

And, technically preventing evil from happening. Distraction goes both ways; Bill can’t do two things at once. 

Dipper glares down at the paper in front of him. No words there, just an exercise in abstract pointillism. 

Great. Now he’s talking himself into this. 

It wouldn’t even be difficult. No fire, no fighting, no clever mind games. Hell, Dipper could just literally just call, or even like, text, or something, and it’s not like he’d get a no.

Or rather, he might get a no. But it’d be with some very distracting responses that’d derail his own day, with a promise to make up for Bill’s absence. A sincere one, for once. 

Nobody else could get that. Not from Bill. Sincerity. Earnestness. Even if it’s about his desire, it’s something so rare that it’s almost - 

Dipper sets the pen down with a decisive click. 

Screw it. 

He’s young, he has…. Feelings about stuff. Ones that he can actually do something about, unlike his awkward teenage years. With someone who thinks he’s hot. 

Really, he’d be betraying himself by not taking advantage. There were times he would have done way more embarrassing things, for far less attention. 

Dipper nods to himself, and picks up the phone. 

Worst case scenario, Bill’s too caught up in stuff to duck out, and he has to wait a few hours. Best case Bill’s going to be distracted himself, Dipper gets something he wants - and less evil happens. A win three times over.

…And maybe he shouldn’t have put his phone on silent, because he has over forty missed messages.

Dipper turns that off, and starts scrolling. Up, then down again. 

There sure is. A lot.  

Bill’s sent ninety percent of the texts in the last half hour, every one of them in his typical all-caps. Without any bragging, hardly any bullshit, and basically zero smug asides. Not even a bunch of cryptic comments about what a clever demon Bill is. 

Dipper starts smiling.

Guess things aren’t quite what Bill was expecting when he took up this latest ‘business’ trip. 

In fact, if Dipper’s any expert - and he is - Bill’s been having a shitty day. 

So. It’s not selfish, really, to want him to get up to something else. It’s actually a fantastic idea. 

Dipper taps the phone against his chin. End goal in mind, plan… not created yet. That requires some thought. 

Does he just... Ask? It seems simple enough, but how is he supposed to phrase it. One way seems too forward. Another one might sound like some weirdo stole his phone. Can’t get too subtle, either, Bill’s missed it when he veiled it too much before….

Dipper manages to come up with two or three lines that aren’t totally cringy, before the buzz against his face interrupts his train of thought.

Bill, again. More messages in his ranting missive.

“SUMMONS, FOR CHAO’S SAKE. DOES THIS GUY EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS OR DID HE JUST PICK UP THE RIGHT INTERDIMENSIONAL PHONE BOOK”

“I’M CONSIDERING DELETING MOST OF THIS GALAXY NEXT CHANCE I GET. JUST TO GET RID OF THE CONTACT INFORMATION”

“A SUMMON IS NOT A *SERVANT* FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THERE”S A DEAL AND EVERYTHING”

“DO THE WORDS ‘CONTRACTOR AGREEMENT’ MEAN ANYTHING OR DOES IT GO IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER TWO”

“WHY DO YOU CONTACT AN EXPERT AND NOT TAKE THE ADVICE??? IT WAS ALMOST FREE!”

Dipper rolls his eyes. 

Yet another reason he should go ahead with his idea. If he doesn’t nip the complaining in the bud soon, Bill’s going to ramble on forever. 

Serves him right, anyway. Bill may not be able to be summoned to Earth, but he’s sure as hell still taking calls from other realms. Dipper can’t even tell Bill he’s sorry one’s gone wrong; it’d be too obvious a lie. He’ll settle for not commenting.

Dipper taps the back of the phone for a second, thinking. Then responds.

“I take it you’re not having much fun”

“OH NO, I'M HAVING A HELL OF A TIME”

“COULDN’T FIND A BETTER PARTY AT THE INTERGALACTIC DMV”

Not a great sign. Bill knows that Dipper doesn’t want to know the details of his work - but the metaphor’s a clue. That it’s complicated, and annoying. 

Dipper frowns. There’ll likely be a wait. 

“So… pretty busy.”

“YEAH THIS COULD DRAG ON”

“SERIOUSLY SCREW THIS GUY THOUGH. CAN’T TAKE A HINT, CAN’T MAKE HIS OWN PLOTS? I’M UP TO HERE WITH THIS LOSER.”

“THE SECOND I CAN PULL A DECENT DOUBLE-CROSS I’M GOING FOR IT”

Huh. Usually Bill’s better at finding chances. Dipper doubts the summoning was that ironclad; loopholes are too common. More likely than not, Bill simply hasn’t found something entertaining enough yet.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found one already.”

“HEY! DOUBLECROSSING IS AN ART, KID.”

“GOTTA COME UP WITH JUST THE RIGHT THING TO REALLY RUB SOME SULFURIC ACID IN THE WOUND”

“Yeah, fine”

Yep. Just like he thought. Dipper sticks his tongue out at the screen. 

Typical Bill. Can’t get his ass off the metaphorical couch unless it’s interesting. Without the promise of a prize at the end, Bill’s more likely to laze around with a martini than put effort into complicated plans. Or chores. Even if he could literally wave his hand and take care of things, if it’s not entertaining-

Actually.

There’s an idea.

Dipper hops up from his seat and heads over to his dresser. Tugging the middle drawer open, and rifling through it until he finds the prize. The slick black wood is easy to find, he hasn’t moved it in a while. 

He drops down on the bed this time, and sets the box on his chest. Heart beating a bit faster, a little tense with nerves. A little excited. He sends the next message in a rush.

“Maybe I could help out?”

“WOW!! THAT'S A FIRST! PINE TREE, I’M BOTH INSULTED YOU THINK I NEED IT AND FLATTERED YOU OFFERED!”

“ALRIGHT WHAT’S GOING ON” 

Dipper unlatches the box, and picks up the collar. 

The black leather is soft between his fingers. He lets it dangle for a moment, tag jingling slightly as he holds it above his face. It’s not heavy with anything but implied meaning.

This particular item doesn’t see a ton of use. It’s not always the right time, because Dipper’s not always in the right mood. Once it is, though. When Dipper puts it on….

That’s. Offering power to an infinite being of pure energy, who shouldn’t even need the token to take it. And once he has it, he’ll be very, very thorough about using it. Something that sounds pretty intimidating, because it is pretty intimidating. 

Right now, if Dipper’s being honest with himself - it kinda sounds great. It’s always worked out really well for him. 

And there’s no way Bill won’t find this interesting. 

“Thought I could uh. Give you some motivation?”

“???”

Welp. Here goes. 

Without hesitating (much), Dipper wraps the collar around his neck and clasps it shut.. Feeling a light chill from the golden triangle tag on his neck, just above his collarbone. The leather not-quite tight against his throat. 

He shuffles into the blankets, getting comfortable. Time to go for it. 

Clearing his throat, and breathing in, then out, Dipper holds his phone up with both hands. He takes the picture.

…it doesn’t look as cool as he thought it would.

The first three don’t look great. Another he’s not - well, a glare can be sexy, in Bill’s mind, but this one just shows how annoyed he is with trying to take a stupid picture. 

Dipper spends longer than he wanted just futzing with the camera and the view he’s about to provide. Bill’s a stickler for angles especially, Dipper wants to get it right.

Another buzz from his phone. Damn it, he should just send something, he’s leaving Bill hanging. For once, Dipper has like, some kind of ‘seduction’ momentum going, he can’t lose it now. 

He holds his phone up again, and makes himself relax. Just a pic, doesn’t need to be fancy. 

Dipper smiles, tilting his head back, neck arched with its strip of black leather fully on display. He snaps the photo and hits send before he can hesitate. Take that, second-guessing, Dipper got ahead of it this time.

Maybe it’s not the best photo, but it doesn’t have to be great. Just as long as it shows the important parts. Dipper’s not trying to do a model shoot for crying out loud. He’s just. Sending an invite.

One he hopes Bill will accept.

He lasts about three seconds before he nervously adds a text. Just in case Bill got the wrong idea. Not that Dipper’s sure what that would be, but still.

“Bedroom in half an hour?”

He’s left on read for a full, anxious two seconds.

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“YOU KIDDING? BE THERE IN THE”

"*TREE"

“THRE MAYBE FIVE"

"OKAY TEN MINUTES TOPS”

“DON’T GO ANYWHERE”

Dipper drops back on the bed, letting out a soft laugh. 

Wow. That was easy. 

Somewhere, through their bond, Dipper can feel Bill bustling around at a far distance. The trip back’s going to be a bit, he guesses. 

Dipper sets his phone on the bedside table - then pauses. Heart beating a little faster, a tent in his pants -  then tugs the drawer below it open. They’re going to need the lube soon anyway. Might as well snag it. 

Still, the bed’s comfy and Dipper wasn’t doing anything anyway.  He settles down to mess with the internet on his phone - spotty, again, it never works right in Bill’s place.

About nine minutes later, he realizes he’s obsessively checking the door now.

Totally normal, though. Bill’s usually later than he says he’ll be. Dipper knew he was in for a wait, though for once he’s oddly impatient. As soon as Bill gets here, he’s going to - 

…Not be able to do much, since Dipper basically has nothing set up but the lube. Might as well get on that now before it makes another delay.

Dipper sighs, shrugging his shirt off, and kicking off his shoes. Shuffling out of his pants, and casting them aside. The underwear has to go, too. Last time Dipper tried a ‘seduction’ with his boxers still on, Bill teased him about it. 

Lube, check. Collar, on. Being naked in their bedroom isn’t uncomfortable even on top of the blankets, with that eternal fireplace burning. Dipper kicks the last leg of his boxers off just as the thumping of footsteps sounds from outside the door.

Eleven minutes of waiting. Something to tease Bill about in a minute. 

Then a thud. The locked knob jiggles for a moment. A muffled swear - then the brief zap of the magical locks unclicking.

Bill’s not only eager, it’s like he’s worried that he’ll miss out on the chance. Like Dipper would pull this and take off, leaving Bill to arrive back at an empty bedroom.

Which, okay. Dipper could. But he’s not going to. Bill may be a multiversal asshole, but he’s done nothing to Dipper to deserve it.

Years ago, he wouldn’t have had any reason to send racy messages to someone. Knowing any picture he did send would get an ‘ew’ or a ‘why’. 

Clearly, he hadn’t met the right person yet.

It’s really hard not to smile, so Dipper doesn’t even bother trying.

The door to their bedroom slams open, and Bill Cipher emerges. Still holding the door handle, arms spread wide with a wild, brilliant grin on his face. 

Dipper sits up, gives him a little wave, and a slow onceover - 

Then raises an eyebrow.

Bill’s grinning. Bill’s delighted. He’s full of all his impeccable confidence, radiating ‘infuriatingly smug’ in a way that Dipper could spot through a blindfold -

But his hair is rather messy, and his suit is in ruins. 

Bill stalks forward, and the door slams shut behind him as he starts undoing his tie. “Well, well, well, well, well!” His tongue runs briefly over his teeth, eye roving. “What have we here!”

Dipper shrugs. Normally he’d have a response, but. Eying Bill again doesn’t change the disaster of his clothing.

There’s certainly a lot of something on Bill’s jacket. Greenish stains, brown on his cuffs. Odd purple flecks gobbed on him like clumps of glue. Typically when Bill’s had a summon, he ends up in less dire sartorial straits. There isn’t much blood - Dipper doesn’t think any of it is Bill’s, it’s too drippy - but the stains are unmistakable.

“There was a lotta stuff around for the summoning. No biggie.” Bill shrugs, nonchalant. He flicks an unidentifiable blob goo off his sleeve, offering Dipper an impeccable smile. “And when things go south in a deal, sometimes you gotta get a little hands on!”

The shirt’s also very. Holey. It’s surprising Bill hasn’t made a pun before stripping it off.

“What happened to you?” Dipper folds his legs under himself. Bill’s still his focus, but now the interest is less specific. “Bad spell? Weird summoner?” Another lookover; it makes him grimace. “A toxic waste dump?”

“Don’t count on it.” Dipper dodges the finger to his chin. In his peripheral vision, he catches Bill looking disappointed. “You’re not getting anything at the moment.”

Dipper folds his arms, and says nothing.

“Now look at you!” Bill practically purrs, striding in to flick the tag on the collar. His eye roves over Dipper, gleaming bright. “What a style! Coming from a fashion-comatose guy like you, of all places.” He tucks two fingers under the collar, and leans in with a leer. “I could get used to this.”

Dipper knew what he was implying with his. Invitation. The terms were set a while ago, and the sign of their ‘deal’ is wrapped around his neck. He knows that Bill’s supposed to be in charge -

But, like. There are some limitations.

“Aha! So that’s the game today, huh?” Bill  rubs his hands together, eye lighting up. “I can-”

“Nope.” Dipper smacks a palm on Bill’s chest. Bill blinks, but stops gloating enough to look surprised. “Hold on a minute.”

“What?”

“You’re a wreck, Bill.” Like it wasn’t obvious. Bill glances down at himself. A flicker of a grimace crosses his face, and Dipper gives him a couple quick pats on the chest. “Go clean up first.”

“Oh, is that the problem?” Bill’s grin returns, leaning in anyway. Dipper dodges the kiss, only to have it land next to his ear. Squirming doesn’t help, because Bill plants a few more, nipping briefly at his earlobe - and chuckles. “I thought you liked things messy.”

Dipper feels heat rise into his face. Now he gives his idiot husband a shove. “Not like this.” 

“Aw, c’mon!” Bill puckers up to an absurd degree, hands clasped near his chest. “Give your husband a smooch. It’s the least you could do!”

“Nope.” Dipper isn’t going to smile. It’d only encourage him. His next push doesn’t move this obnoxious dick, so he gets up to add more force behind the shoving. “Go on, get moving.”

Bill starts cackling. Dipper ends up having to dig his feet in the carpet, bearing down as Bill keeps trying to kiss his face, nudging him in the vague direction of the bathroom. Adding an elbow, for emphasis. At this point, he’d settle for getting Bill to the dresser to change. 

“What, not into the acid-splattered gooey look?” Bill backs up slowly as Dipper presses him along, with a teasing grab or two at his butt - though eventually, he raises his hands. “Alright, alright. Hang tight here. I’ll be back in a sec.” 

Bill clicks his tongue as he finally backs into the bathroom with double finger guns and a wink. Dipper flips him off, just because. Sticking his tongue out in Bill’s direction for good measure - then at the mark on his left palm.

Off in the bathroom, he hears a distant chuckle.

Not the most elegant start to the evening. But then, he doesn’t think they’ve ever had one. 

Dipper sits back down on the mattress. Bouncing in place a few times. At least the bed is comfy. Waiting here is more than tolerable. It’s not even chilly, with the eternal fire burning in that fireplace. 

A little more waiting won’t matter, anyway. Bill will be out within moments, as quick as he can; Dipper can hear the rush of water, and his husband humming a cheery tune to himself. 

Once Bill’s done changing. Once he’s wiped off the residue and changed his clothes. He’ll be ready, and wanting things from one young human, who’s - not technically helpless, but for the moment pretending to be. He could make all kinds of demands.

Dipper runs a finger under the collar. 

Bill’s enthusiasm, in fact, carries over into all the things he does. Especially when he wants to entertain, or if he’s on a mission to conquer. 

Technically this situation qualifies for both.

Dipper rubs his slightly damp palms on his thighs, and breathes out slowly.

He can already imagine Bill bursting into the room, with a show of power. Throwing the door open, alight  with fire, full of all the energy and violence that a nightmare demon can display. His strong arms braced against the doorframe, and a wicked grin on his face. Ready to shamelessly ogle the present he’s arrived to collect.

The lube’s close by. Dipper fumbles for the bottle and clicks it open. 

It’s cool against his palm and cooler against his dick as he takes himself in hand.

He already knows what Bill looks like when he’s naked, and it’s easy to picture the lean lines of him, all the bare skin and the shape of his muscles. Bill’s unfortunately attractive. Oddly compelling. Dipper has to hand it to himself; he did an amazing job on the human shape, even unintentionally.  

The form enhances what should be absurd. Someone. Demanding. Conniving and evil and selfish, taking what he wants, and he wants Dipper, badly. Undeniably so; Dipper's felt it before, in his palm or in his mouth or inside him. 

Letting a slow sigh, Dipper rests back on the bed. He slows in his strokes, running his thumb over the head of his dick.

Soon, Bill will loom over Dipper and take him by the collar, tugging him up with undeniable force and an evil grin. Maybe with his pants unzipped, his thick cock hard and -

“Already getting started, are ya?”

With instincts long-honed from many lonely nights, Dipper yanks the blanket over himself. 

“Aw, someone’s shy!” Bill walks closer, wearing both a smug look and a fresh set of clothes. He throws in a wink in response to Dipper’s glare, and starts rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “Ease up already. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Right. Just Bill. Dipper feels his shoulders drop; he still flips Bill off again, out of sheer contrariness. Bill may have seen everything before, but he also didn’t have to make a startling entrance. Probably part of the fun for him. Because he’s a jerk.

Dipper sighs, and tosses the blanket away. “You could have told me you were ready.”

“Oh, I’m more than ready.” Bill responds easily. He waves off Dipper’s comment as he walks to the side of the bed. As he draws his arms apart, a thin line of black connects them. Pulled straight into existence, with all the power he has. And winks. “I’m prepared.”

Dipper swallows, touching the collar again. His eyes follow the long, long line of the leash, held in Bill’s solid grip.

He knew what he was in for. What he signed up for, technically. Having it be so certain makes him want to tremble - and also makes his traitorous dick very, very hard.

Bill stalks in, nudging Dipper’s chin upward with a grin - and clicks the lead onto the collar.

He nods to himself, once. Wraps the very end of the leash around his palm. Then simply stands there, hands on his hips. “Go on.”

That’s. Kind of a vague prompt. Dipper hesitates, he’s not sure what to do- 

“I mean, don’t stop the show, sapling.” Bill settles back, tucking his thumbs into his pockets with a wicked smile. “Touch yourself.”

“Oh.” Dipper feels his heart start to race. 

Bill’s watching intently, with a pleased smirk on his face, expecting his ‘show’ -  And, while he’s ogled Dipper going at this before, it wasn’t in this context. 

Typically, Dipper doesn’t let Bill push him around. Definitely never listens to his weirder requests. But this time, Dipper asked for it. He knew what he was getting into. When he called Bill over. When he made himself available, when he invited Bill to take advantage of it - and that means following Bill’s lead.

Dipper lies back on the mattress. Shutting his eyes, and taking his dick in hand again. 

If he doesn’t look, he can pretend that Bill’s not watching. Not that it helps much. Jerking off feels different, it’s hard to keep it slow. Bill’s keeping quiet, but Dipper can feel his gaze on his skin like heat.

“That’s it.” Bill’s voice drops a little, lower and more intent. “Very nice.”

Dipper keeps his eyes shut. Now he presses his lips together to cover a moan. Knowing Bill’s watching him always makes him self-conscious no matter what he’s doing. Especially with this. Keeping note of how he holds himself, to how much Bill can see - whether he should arch up or angle himself differently, it’s embarrassing and exciting, like the picture he sent but with Bill right there watching. Dipper burns with awareness, and heat rises into his face.

There’s a soft shuffle of steps. Like Bill’s getting closer - no, he is, Dipper can tell by the pleased sound he makes. “Spread your legs.”

Demanding as always; why does he have to, isn’t this enough? Dipper’s already so exposed and - There isn’t much space, sitting like this -  but he lies back and props his feet on the bed. Knees lifted and legs open. 

There’s a soft click, and a softer groan. Dipper blinks an eye open. 

Bill’s undone his belt; his fly open and his pants pushed slightly down. He’s hard and standing out against his shirt, at least as turned on as Dipper is - and taking himself in hand with slow strokes that Dipper watches with a sharp spark of arousal. 

Maybe it’s more like outright staring. Who cares; Bill’s doing it right back to him, fair’s fair. 

Dipper tightens his grip. Dick throbbing at the knowledge that Bill likes what he sees. Knowing he’s admiring him, that for some reason Bill loves watching this, he’s said as much before.

None of which helps Dipper keep the pace slow, he’s wanted to come for a while and now he could, if it wouldn’t ruin the upcoming events.

“Now that’s what I like to see.” Bill sets a palm below one of Dipper’s raised knees, sliding it downward. “Every bit of my eager little mortal, ready for me.” His eye trails over Dipper’s own frantic grip on his dick, stroking himself at a far more measured pace. Watching Dipper like he’s fascinating, like this embarrassing display is a delight. “All mine.”

“Shut up. It’s not -” Dipper wants to clamp his legs together, but Bill shoves them back apart. Thumbs tracing the skin of Dipper’s thighs, leaning in to plant a kiss on the skin. Dipper takes another breath. “I just wanted…”  He stumbles over what he was going to say, as Bill settles in between his legs, leaning over him - and Dipper lets his head drop back with a groan. “Fuck.”

“Oh sure, in a minute. Though honestly, I could watch this all day!” Bill keeps petting his legs, and yeah, definitely looming - while looking terrifically smug about it. “But I think you called me in ‘cause you wanted a hand.”

“Yeah.” Of course Dipper wants a hand, or. More than that. He could jerk off anytime, that’s simple, he didn’t need to get Bill involved for that. It's just that what Bill does to him is so much better. ”Please.”

Bill hums for a moment, considering his prize. Tapping Dipper’s sides briefly, before leaning in to lick at his nipple, sucking it into his mouth before nipping, teeth light on the flesh. 

Dipper holds back a gasp. That sent a spark of heat right down to his dick. Bill’s tongue lathes over it again, warm and wet, while he takes the other between two fingers, rolls it around, and pinches, both sharp and good.

“God.” Dipper keeps a deathgrip on his dick, slowing down. The other grips Bill’s hair. He’s not sure if he wants to push him in or pull him away - and Bill’s hum against his chest sounds like he’s covering a laugh. “You bastard.”

Bill mutters something that might be ‘you like it’, shoulders shaking with amusement. Moving on, and kissing further down Dipper’s stomach. Much less intense. Warm, and pleasant. Dipper lets out a held breath. 

Only to pull another in, quick, because now Bill’s switched. Taking the already teased one in hand to roll and pinch when it’s already oversensitive from his tongue. It’s a bright shock of pleasure, of pain, and Dipper arches up with a gasp, before clasping his free hand over his mouth.

“Hey!” Bill stops his descent suddenly, pausing just above Dipper’s navel. He’s frowning, mouth inches away from Dipper’s dick. “What did I say about noises?”

Wait, why is Bill - Dipper sits up, blinking down at him.

He heard what Bill just said, but retorts are. Difficult right now. Made worse because he’s watching Bill’s lips, and the way his tongue moves, so close to where he wants them. 

But wait, right, he remembers this. It was…. Dipper stares at him, unable to think. “Uh.”

“It was ‘make lots of ‘em’, if you need the reminder. Say whatever comes to mind!” Bill slides his hands down Dipper’s chest, rudely squeezing his thighs again. His smile widens, bright with enthusiasm. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dipper swallows. What Bill’s asking for is-

No, he can’t. He has so many thoughts, all the time, and during sex they’re all dumb and horny. Downright ridiculous. 

Right now, his mind’s drawing a blank. Even for the stupid stuff.

For Bill, it’s easy. He always says what he’s thinking, especially in bed. Hell, he can go on a full on monologue; has, at times, and it’s always something filthy and insane and arousing. Half of the things Bill says sound absurd in the light of day - but in the moment they’re actually pretty great. 

And Bill’s seen thousands of minds and dreams, he’s encountered every situation, seen infinite fantasies. Dipper doesn’t think he has enough imagination to get weird enough to match.

Dipper turns his head away instead, keeping his mouth shut. Hearing - and feeling - Bill’s impatient sigh.  

There’s also no way Bill’s going to move forward without being told something. But. Dipper can’t think of anything good.

After a moment, Bill smacks him lightly on the side. “Speak up already.” He plants another wet kiss on Dipper’s stomach, so close to his dick. Offering up a wide, teasing smile. “What do you want?”

A lot of things. Some other stuff. A myriad of ideas, none of which Bill knows about, because - 

Dipper sits up. The idea snaps back into place. 

Because Bill can’t get into Dipper’s head. 

He’s been million brains, encountered a million fantasies - but none of them are what Dipper thinks about when he jerks off. 

Dipper takes a slow calming breath. Bill’s been waiting, mouthing against his hip, hot breath ghosting over his groin. Distracting, but not enough to truly help.

In theory, this is simple. Just like his invitation, it doesn’t have to be perfect, so long as the intent is there.

Really, Bill might love whatever comes out of his mouth, because in this one, specific circumstance he’s not a mind-reader. It must drive him insane, that he can’t reach in and drag out every fantasy Dipper’s ever had, and use all of them against him.

And Dipper’s supposed to do what Bill wants.

Bill’s drags his teeth against the soft skin of his thigh, leaving red lines; his thumbs digging into the juncture of his hip fingers on his stomach - it’s a lot and not enough at the same time, it - 

Dipper shuts his eyes. Takes a shuddering breath, and says, “Feels good.”

“Is that so?” Bill’s voice drops to a purr. Dipper hears the bottle of lube click again. “How good?”

Just. Good? Dipper doesn’t know what to tell him, so he ends up saying, “A lot.” Then, “Can you use your mouth?” But that’s not quite it, and now that the words have started tumbling from him Dipper finds he can’t stop -  “And I really want you in me again.”

So awkward, without any of Bill’s eloquence. Dipper can’t match him, he just stumbles trying to get it out.

But the way Bill’s eye literally lights up makes Dipper feel a bit better. And the way he groans against Dipper’s skin, and sucks his cock into the hot wet of his mouth, dragging his tongue on the underside, makes it feel fantastically, absolutely better. 

Dipper bucks his hips up, tangling fingers in Bill’s hair. Urging him on. Bill moves with it easily, and Dipper feels a low vibration of a held back laugh that makes him groan.

Okay. Not exactly the hottest thing in the world, but, fuck, it didn’t have to be. If it works, it works; Dipper will take the embarrasment, and say way, way dumber stuff, all the time, if it gets Bill to do this. 

Bill pulls away, all too suddenly, leaving Dipper bereft and annoyed. Glaring up at Bill’s smug grin, and handsome face.

There isn’t any reason to startle when Bill’s finger pushes in, but. Well, the lube’s cold, and it was sudden. And also...

“Just one?” Dipper frowns up at Bill as his finger works slowly inside him, dipping in and out. Thin and firm, not nearly enough - and Bill’s smirking, too, the jerk. “You can do more than that.”

“I dunno. Should I?” Bill purses his lips, like he’s contemplating it. “I haven’t heard how it feels yet.”

This asshole. Dipper wants to swear, but. That’s useless, so he squeezes his legs around Bill instead.

This jerk just wants to drag things out, doesn’t he. Won’t let up until he’s satisfied. Bill might have control, sure. But he thinks Dipper’s hot, and that means there’s some leverage. 

Since Dipper's not getting what he wants. Then he’ll just have to tempt him. 

Bill wants to hear him? Fine, no more repressing. Even the soft panting has clearly raised his interest, and Dipper can totally do less to hold himself back.

He knows Bill can do worse. That he wants to be inside, so he’ll help him imagine what else he could be doing - 

“It feels great, okay?” Dipper glares up at him. Bill licks his lips, finger curling - and the involuntary moan Dipper lets out makes Bill’s cock visibly twitch. Dipper arches up and strokes himself again, while Bill’s occupied. “I can take more. I want it.”

Bill opens his mouth. Like he’s about to interrupt, or tease - Before he can say anything, Dipper reaches down and hauls Bill’s hand closer, urging it in.

“Ah ah ah! Fantastic performance, sapling.” Bill catches his wrists, forcing them up and away.  “Until you got too cocky.” And winks at his own awful pun. 

Damn it, Dipper wants to swat him. He was almost - he tries to yank away, but Bill’s too strong and his grip too tight. Leaning over him, and drawing his arms over his head. over him now, kneeling between his legs. 

Bill slides the collar to the side, wraps Dipper’s hands together with the long leather of the leash. Not tightly, but firm. He leans over Dipper, chest above his face - and damn it, Dipper’s halfway tempted to just bite some of the buttons of Bill’s shirt open. 

Then he sinks back, and grins. Dipper moves to swat him, and can’t. He yanks at the leash again, strains against it,  but there’s barely any give -

And when he glances up at the headboard, Bill’s looped the end onto a hook. The leather drawn tight, keeping Dipper's arms raised.

Glaring at Bill gets a temporary reprieve as Dipper glares at his restraint instead. Then back at Bill, who’s unbearably smug about his stunt. Dipper sinks back on the mattress with a huff. 

“Can’t have you coming too soon, y’know.” Bill releases his arms, tracing down Dipper’s neck, fingers trailing around the collar. And throwing in a wink for good measure. “Not when we got all night to play around.”

Oh god. That doesn’t bode well. Or rather, it does, but. In a very specific way. 

Dipper tugs at his restraints, arching up and finding no escape. Okay. Better brace himself. Bill’s always loved to torment; he’ll take his time with things. Touch and tease and taunt without truly being satisfying; he’ll make Dipper wait until it almost hurts; it’s going to be terrible and great, just like the demon himself. 

“Now!” Bill claps his hands together, rubbing them with anticipation. “Where were we?” Not waiting for a response before slipping a finger - no, two - back inside, rougher than before.. 

If Dipper does whimper, he’ll deny it later. It makes Bill raise an eyebrow, smile growing a fraction; Dipper pushes into his fingers only to find Bill retreating with a grin. He’s not going to let Dipper urge him on. Definitely won’t let him come by himself, or get there before he’s allowed. Everything’s under Bill’s control, something both incredibly frustrating and. Interesting.

And Bill’s too experienced. Bill’s too clever. The way he presses inside is unfortunately great. They’ve been together long enough that Bill knows exactly where he needs to touch, and does it with aplomb - 

Dipper clicks his teeth shut against another sound. Breathing slowly, and shutting his eyes.

And just enough to tease. 

The stretch is good. The pressure, so much better; warm and invasive. Arousing. Bill rolls inside him, presses and strokes, his hand pushing against Dipper hard - then retreating - only to fuck into him again like Bill could make Dipper a mess just with his hand. 

Which he is, the asshole. Because it is good. Really good. A firm pressure and a repeating touch, sending a throb of pleasure each time, and making precome drip from Dipper’s dick. Withdrawing, then returning with a hard push, in and out, a burst of pleasure only to deny it again. Slow, then fast. A quick slide and a long press that makes Dipper see stars in his vision, only to pull back out. It’s Bill, curling his fingers in the way that makes Dipper arch up and moan - then suddenly leaving him empty and nearly gasping.

Dipper can’t - His teeth are gritted, he doesn't want to sound so needy - but he whines, and doesn’t choke it back.

“Look at you. So responsive! You must have really missed me, huh?” Bill sounds delighted.  Adding a third finger - and this time Dipper couldn’t cover the whimper he makes even if he wanted to. “It’s adorable.” 

God, everything he’s doing is teasing. Deliberately not-quite-enough, on purpose. Keeping up that low, intense pressure without letting Dipper come, just driving him close to the edge and backing off like a bastard.

“It’d be easy to make you come like this.” Bill kisses down Dipper’s dick, then. Licking up the length with a wet sound that makes it jump under his tongue. He kisses the head with a smirk - “Could be fun to make you lose it.”

He could, he really could. His tongue on Dipper’s dick and his fingers inside - Dipper strains against the leash, swearing under his breath. It would be good, sure - but he wants to reach down. Make Bill do more. To stop the teasing and taunting, treat him rougher, and he ends up blurting, “Don’t.”

“Oh?” Bill curls his fingers; a firm shock of pressure, and the heel of his hand nudging his balls. Spreading wide inside him for an aching stretch.“Then why’d you call me here?”

“Because I wanted it.” Dipper says, out loud. Speaking is the only way to get Bill to move on, and it’s easier to ignore the embarrassment, when the burn of needing to come is so much more. Bill licks his lips, anticipatory - and Dipper admits, “I wanted you to fuck me.”

All he gets is Bill’s fingers withdrawing and that sucks. Dipper whines, teeth bared. Now he feels empty and urgent and Bill’s not touching him, the jerk.

“Well, why didn’t you say so!”  Bill shuffles his pants down, stroking another palmful of lube over himself, a little faster than usual.  “Not a problem. In fact,” He pushes Dipper’s legs further up, and winks. “It’d be my pleasure.” 

Dipper slumps. He goes with Bill’s positioning, rude and insistent, letting himself be pliable this time. Though he feels empty, he knows that won’t last, and he’ll have what he wants.

Finally. 

Bill rubs the head of his cock against Dipper, smugly enough to make Dipper swear - then laughing. Holding himself steady, and pushing in, just enough for Dipper to feel the slight jolt as the head enters - then withdraws again, tapping against him. A motion that doesn’t have any intent of really going for it -

Frustrated, Dipper tries hauling Bill in with his legs - for a moment, thinks he’s succeeded -  but Bill’s cock slips away to rest against him, brushing against Dipper’s own. It leaves Bill cackling with amusement; Dipper wants to swat him, or maybe kiss him. Since he can’t do either, he tugs at the leash again. “Bill.” 

“Gotta take my time, kid!” No remorse; the torturous bastard leans over him, and guides himself in, with a low, lingering stretch, one Dipper knows so well, heavy and hard inside.. Bill surges forward, fully seated and Dipper has to gasp, back arching -  “You’re always.” He shuts his eye, a brief flicker as his hips rock in. “So tight for me.” 

“Hn.” With nothing to protest, Dipper nods instead, rapid and eager. Bill’s cock hits just the right places, Dipper can’t help but move into it. Arching up, pushing his. his hips into that filling weight, feeling Bill fucking into him, deeper and so much that Dipper has to yank at his restraints - “You’re just. Too big.”

“So that’s what you were thinking about,” Bill hisses. There’s a throb inside, a surge forward that makes Dipper gasp, open his eyes. Seeing Bill’s own eye alight, glowing gold. The weight of his presence and his quickening pace makes Dipper want to grab at him, anything to get him closer. “That’s what gets you off.”

“Yeah.” Mostly what Dipper was imagining, but not quite - and shit, he should just say it. He could come like this, it’s good, it’s great, but Bill’s not quite putting his back into it the way Dipper would really like. If he’d do a little more, he could almost -  “Like. I wanted it and. I didn’t have to say it, you just.” He shuts his eyes, thinking about half-remembered sessions alone - “Come over and have me, because you want me.” He takes a shaking breath, Bill’s hands are suddenly tight on his hips - “‘Cause I feel too good.”

Bill swears, loud and urgent - and the next snap of his hips makes Dipper strain against his bonds. That’s it. Strong and demanding, and rough, he missed it. 

“You got that part right.” Bill breathy, his tongue flickering over his lips. He adds another startling pinch to a nipple that thrums down Dipper’s body, electric pleasure. “I’ll take everything I want from you.” A violent thrust, Bill’s breath hitching as Dipper moans -  loud enough to make him want to cringe -  but must Bill like it, because his voice lowers into a growl. “Have my way with you. Make you come on my cock.”

If he keeps this up. If Bill puts his back into it, Dipper would, definitely, it’s already a lot and nearly enough -

“Yes. Please.” Now that he’s started he can’t seem to shut his mouth. Thinking about Bill, shoving him down, or up against a wall, giving Dipper what he wants and then -  “And you’ll come in me. So much.” Dipper blurts, and hears Bill suck in a sudden breath. “You always - I really like it.”

Bill slows; he nearly stills in place. Dipper can see his chest heaving, his eye bright - Then he captures Dipper’s face with both hands, pulling him in for a kiss. 

Dipper opens up for it, groaning into it. Wanting to draw his arms down around the back of Bill’s neck. Since that’s impossible, he kisses back. Trying to tell Bill how much he needs this, with just his mouth.

Until this bastard, this asshole. This absolute monster, pulls away and out. 

Dipper nearly kicks him. He definitely swears. He needs to come and Bill’s being twice the bastard than usual; he tries to get a hold of his dick, but he’s trapped, left to writhe, helpless, with Bill staring down at him.

Bill shuffles out of his pants, unbuttoning his shirt. Looming over Dipper again, with his bare chest almost distracting from that horrible wide smile. So close, but so far away, unable to be touched - 

“Glad to hear it, kid,” Bill purrs, low and pleased. Jerking himself off again, quicker than before, his grip tight. “‘Cause I’ve been thinking about that all day.” 

Dipper’s eyes widen  - oh, he’s really going to -

And Bill slides inside again, the pressure heavy inside. Dipper groans at the return. Only one thrust, though. A brief second, Bill’s hips tight against his own -  then, fuck, Bill’s coming. Unmistakable, making Dipper whine between his teeth, muscles tensing. Watching the  flutter of Bill’s eyelashes, feeling his thick cock pulsing and the heat inside. And Dipper wants to match that pleasure, touch himself as well, get off, but Bill won’t let him. This is unfair. 

“How’s that feel, kid?” Bill asks, squeezing Dipper’s thighs for a moment, before he grasps Dipper’s dick and jerks it, with quick, effective motions. “Having demon come inside you.” 

Making words is a struggle, so Dipper simply nods again. Face burning, arms pressed together. He can feel it hot and deep inside and fuck, he does like it, he can’t hold Bill in place forever with his legs but he wants to keep as much as he can. Knowing how it means Bill wants him. How much he can make Bill feel good, and having the proof, right there.

Bill pulls out again, after a few slow thrusts, gazing down with a smug, satisfied look that Dipper wishes he was wearing. He wants Bill to come back. For him to fuck him, he’s left Dipper bereft and empty, with an aching throb between his legs. With urgency fading, and the pleasure dropping from the peak, it’s going to be a while before he gets to feel the same way. Building things back up is going to take so long.

Then Dipper’s arms are freed, and he’s hauled up to sit by the tight grip on the leash. The relief of that tension, at least, is something. Dipper rubs his wrists, blinking back at Bill. What -? 

The next tug forces Dipper up to his knees, and Bill draws him in for a kiss, free hand buried in Dipper’s hair. Dipper responds as best he can. Would love to grab Bill back, in the same way -  but his arms are shaking. He settles for touching Bill’s chest instead, in slow petting motions.

Bill makes a pleased sound, drawing back with a smile. “You like it better when I fuck you?” He prompts, shifting behind Dipper to grab his chin, tilting his head back. A firm thumb runs over Dipper’s bottom lip. “Or when I take your pretty little mouth?”

Which is - Dipper doesn’t know. He wishes he could think straight, but most of his thoughts are drawn to the unfulfilled throb in his groin. He likes taking Bill in his mouth, likes what Bill does to him in bed, all of it, he couldn’t choose - “I…  don’t know.”

“Eh, that’s fair! I couldn’t pick a favorite either.” Bill pats Dipper’s hip, drawing him in until his back is pressed against his chest. “It’s all fun.”

Then Dipper’s wheeled around, quick enough to be startling. Behind him, Bill settles down comfortably, drawing Dipper fully into his lap. 

It’s a comfortable enough position. Dipper even hears a soft ‘thump’ as Bill drops back against something soft. Likely he’s conjured another pillow pile, or something other surface to relax against. All cozy enough that Dipper would normally lean back with him, tuck Bill’s arms around him, and wriggle in an interesting way that might get him to help. 

Instead, he stares ahead for a long few seconds - then scrambles at the sheets in surprise. 

So much for the headboard. Bill’s taken a new tactic, thrown in a new addition. In this case, a very reflective one.

Dipper guesses the ‘show’ isn’t over. 

He blinks - his reflection blinks back at him - and Dipper’s suddenly nervous. He can’t back up, it only puts him further into  Bill’s grasp. “What-” 

“What a sight.” Bill sighs, sounding very, very pleased with himself. He grabs Dipper’s thighs, parting and squeezing them. “One of my favorites, honestly.”

The ‘sight’ is. Something.

Dipper stares at himself in the mirror. God, he looks like a total mess. Face red, marks from Bill’s mouth, hair disheveled - ‘fucked’ would be a good description, in multiple senses - And there’s Bill, sitting behind him with a smug, pleased grin. Dipper meets his gaze in the reflection momentarily -  then jerks his head away. He can’t look at this, it’s not -

“And why wouldn’t it be?” Bill continues. His breath is hot against Dipper’s neck, hands slipping around and under Dipper’s thighs - “When I get to see this.”

When Bill pulls his legs up, Dipper squirms - hard not to, he’s flexible but still, rude - and tenses at the sight. Bill’s a pervert, of course he likes staring at this, but Dipper can’t just. Look at what Bill’s done to him. Not without feeling a burn of shame and arousal curling in his stomach. Bill’s come has slightly spilled, wet on his thigh, dick still standing up, so obvious that he’s been taken and fucked, that he’s let himself be used, and behind him Bill’s practically gloating at how thoroughly he’s left his mark.

“I see you’re a fan as well!” Bill sounds all too chipper. He shifts slightly, nuzzling against Dipper’s shoulder. “You got good taste, kid.”

This jerk. Dipper’s brief attempt at glaring at him  means he catches sight of himself in the mirror. With his traitorous dick leaking a bead of precome, and his face so red, he looks like he’s sunburnt. 

“Y’know, I’d say how much I love fucking you, but eh. You won’t take my word for it. You’re a guy who loves having proof.”  Bill’s voice lowers, as he leans further back - “Good thing I left you plenty.”

Dipper glances at their reflection again, grimacing - then does a double-take. Because Bill’s cock has risen with interest again, nearly covering Dipper’s own embarrassing sight. And well. He’s only human. He might look a little bit longer at that. 

“You want another round?” Bill asks, almost nonchalantly, all-too innocent. Fuck, yes, of course Dipper does, he doesn’t know why Bill asked -  “You wanna come on my cock?” Dipper nods again; he swallows. Yes, he really does, he’s aching and empty and been left hanging - And Bill laughs.  “Then go ahead, sapling.” Voice lowered, deeply amused. “Put it in.”

Bill’s really going to make him - Dipper slumps a little, realizing that of course he is. Bill’s not in position to do it himself, and it’d be stupid to let him just poke around and hope it found its mark. If Dipper wants -  then he’ll have to - 

Dipper hesitates, then reaches down to get Bill into position. Hard and throbbing in his grip. Strokes it once, just to feel it, and hear Bill moan. Teamwork is rare, but as Bill lowers him slowly, Dipper adjusts his hips and holds him steady. 

The blunt head of Bill’s cock pops in easily; Dipper draws his hands back up. Glancing, inevitably, at his reflection.. He already knew Bill was impressive, he’s handled it hundreds of times. Watching is different.

The very sight of Bill’s cock entering looks so much more impossible than it is. Like it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Dipper’s own cock twitches and he takes a quick breath, watching as Bill slides him down his length, inch by inch.

“That’s it. So ready for me.” Bill moves his hips in slow motions, small, teasing thrusts. A slow push-pull that makes Dipper want to slap his hands away and sit down, take the rest in already. With Bill holding him, all he can do is watch. As Bill guides it in, then draws back, nearly popping out before making him take more, and Dipper can see the length of his cock streaked with white from his previous release.  “Good boy.”

Dipper nearly shoves a hand into his mouth - no, he’s not supposed to cover the sound - then grips tight at the sheets instead. Shit, those words shouldn’t affect him this much, but they sound really good. Or maybe it’s the way Bill finally sets Dipper in his lap, fully seated, and lets go of his legs. One of the two leaves Dipper shaking, and pushing against that heavy length inside.

Bill takes one of Dipper’s hands, gilding it down. For a moment, Dipper thinks he’ll have to touch himself again, but Bill just presses his palm on his stomach, just over the base of his dick.

“Feel that?” Bill pushes his hips up, and the bulge that rolls under Dipper’s palm - Bill, moving in him, filling him - Dipper whimpers. Being so full, so completely taken, he can feel it inside and it’s so much, enough to almost make him lose it- “You got all of it in, kid.”

Bill adds a particularly vicious thrust behind the words. No hesitation, no gentleness, and Dipper braces himself, getting his legs under him. Because he can take it, he wants to - and joke is on Bill; he has no idea what he makes Dipper feel. Why he asked for him. Why he thinks of him when he jerks off, and why he wants this, exactly this; Bill inside him, treating him roughly, it’s going to make him - 

Dipper’s aware he’s talking, this time. Making sounds, and words, both too loud and too embarrassing- but Bill got him started on it and now he can’t stop. A meaningless ramble, total nonsense about how it’s good, how he likes it, urging Bill to fuck him, no harder, all in a stream of thought that he can’t stop, even though his face burns.

Which Bill really likes.. Even his rhythm occasionally stutters. Like he can’t help but move when Dipper says something he truly likes, and that seems like every other word, with his touch constantly roving. Straying from Dipper’s hips, just to grope at his chest or his stomach or legs.

“You want it so bad. Like you were made for me.” Bill growls, finally setting his grip on Dipper’s waist, leaning back more to jerk up into him -  ���Have you any time I want. My own personal slut.” Bill’s not only fucking up into him, he’s now holding Dipper tight, strong arms lifting and shoving him down, ; it takes everything to try and match his pace - “A perfect little toy.”

And Dipper would let Bill have him, like it if Bill took him, whenever. He could be trying to make notes at his desk and Bill would walk up and shove him down, taking him just because he wanted to, or was bored; make him kneel and suck his cock, heavy in his mouth - or sit in his lap, feeling Bill staying hard inside, impossible and inhuman, waiting for Dipper to be ready to get fucked again, fill him up with every load of come Bill has, over and over - Bill’s touching his dick, but he barely needs to stroke twice before Dipper’s coming in and over his hand. 

Behind him, Bill swears again, long and loud. Then he’s coming again, his chest heaving and his cock pulsing inside. Dipper pushes into it with a few nudges of his hips.

They sit there for a moment. Both catching their breath Dipper lets his head loll back. god he needed that.

Getting up should probably. Be one at some point. But Bill’s still petting his sides, and his legs feel like jelly. 

Lesson learned: Calling Bill over for this. For, essentially, a booty call, was a fantastic idea. No need to doubt it, it’s quick and effective and great. Absolutely the right choice. 

Cuddling like this is nice, but with the pleasure faded it’s. Vaguely sticky. Dipper shifts a bit, trying to get up the urge to move - but Bill takes the initiative, and Dipper lets out a little ‘mh’ as he’s lifted up and plopped on his side onto the mattress. The gesture’s oddly disappointing - 

“Ugh,” Bill groans, and follows a moment later. He tucks an arm under Dipper’s head, another pats his hip. “Y’know, I used to hear all the time about how getting hitched really killed the bedroom stuff.” His fingers idly trace nonsense patterns on Dipper’s side, over his stomach. “No idea what they were on about.”

Dipper huffs out a little laugh. Figures that Bill would pick up on that cliche, over all the time he’s been around. One even Dipper’s heard of, for that matter. 

All he can do is shrug. “They must be doing it wrong.” Dipper suggests. Behind him, Bill hums in agreement.

Not that Dipper really knows much about how other people go about their relationships; he’s only had the one himself. Plus, well, demon involvement, that always complicates things. Especially a marriage so strange and unnerving. Complicated, and weird, unexpected in some ways, a billion things. Something neither of the people actually in the damn thing have completely figured out.

Though Dipper can’t deny that it’s very functional. 

He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

When Bill nuzzles into his hair, Dipper takes his hand in his own. Holding it up against his chest, where Bill can feel the beating of his own heart. And because Bill is a jerk, he takes that chance to sneakily pinch a nipple again. Which leads to the predictable bickering, though it’s a little calmer than usual.

Eventually, it kind of just. Trails off. Dipper guesses they’re both too pleased to put real effort in, even for appearances. With a sigh, he rolls onto his back and stretches. Feeling a lingering ache, but mostly relaxed - and Bill’s warmth, so close, is adding to the latter. Plus, everything that Bill’s done to him. Even now, he feels a bit tingly from all the touch.

After a moment, he reaches up to the collar, lazily searching for the clasp.

“Hmmm.” Bill props himself up on one elbow, narrows his eye, and catches Dipper’s hand with his own. He draws it away from the collar, interlacing their fingers with a grin. “Not just yet.”

Oh. Surprising, but not unpleasantly so. Dipper glances down, then back up again. He gives Bill’s hand a squeeze, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Ahem.” Bill rises up, smacking a palm on his chest with pride. “You summoned me, sapling. Trust the contractor you contacted! I’m a real expert in this stuff, ya dig?”  He leans over Dipper, planting a kiss on his chest, then his shoulder. “And I don’t think you’re gonna be satisfied with just one.” 

Dipper swallows. Right now he’s doing just fine. Relaxed, a little achy, and satisfied. But. 

Okay, Bill does have a point; he was in a particular mood earlier. One that’s not completely gone. Even the suggestion has sort of exacerbated the problem.

Though he’d be an idiot not to make it a little tough for him. Just for kicks. 

“I summoned you for one thing,” Dipper retorts. He swats his husband on the top of the head, then squirms a little, like he’s about to wriggle out of his grasp. Predictably, Bill reacts by grabbing onto tighter. “You can’t change the deal now.” 

“Ha! Didn’t prepare for a double-cross, didja?” Bill draws him back down, looming once more. Pressing Dipper’s shoulders into the bed and grinning, white and wild. He clicks his tongue. “Classic rookie error.” 

“You monster.” Dipper presses the back of one hand to his forehead, turning his head to the side - and watches Bill’s shoulders shake with repressed laughter.  “I’ll need a minute, though.” Some people have a refractory period, for crying out loud.

“Sure, no problem! The night is young, so are you, and best of all,” Bill says, cheerful enough. He smacks another kiss on Dipper’s forehead, stroking his sides in a not-at-all subtly possessive gesture. He throws in a wink.  “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

Arrogant ass. Taking charge of things is par for the course, but now Bill’s acting like this was his idea. 

Fine, let him have it. It’s nothing but a pretense, anyway. Dipper rolls his eyes.

They both know who really had the clever idea this time. 

Though he does surge up, arms around Bill’s neck, to drag him in for a kiss. “Right back at you.”

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[tennessoui]

You know one of my favorite Star Wars fic tropes? Evil, feral Anakin being horribly mistreated his whole life and hurt, and then being comforted and nursed back to health by Obi-Wan. And instantly imprinting on him, like, in a "I will kill anyone for you" way. Could be any Obi-Wan! Nice Obi-Wan for that sweet sweet hurt/comfort and kisses and turning Anakin from his murderous ways with the power of kindness! Evil Obi-Wan for sweet double trouble action and delicious obsession with each other!!

this is also one of my favorite star wars tropes!!! i love a needlessly protective and feral Anakin who distrusts everyone except for Obi-Wan.

unfortunately. um. this went a little sideways. and there is no being nursed back to health. but there's some delicious obsession and protectiveness and also future mutual obsession so i'm counting the prompt fill as like 3.5 out of 5 stars for following the prompt, which is. let's be honest, higher than most of my prompt fills. this is a bit dark and contains references to mind tricks, but there is no sex or kissing that could be construed as dub con. just like. dub con emotions i guess

(2.2k)

Quinlan has that look in his eyes, as if he’s about to say something that he knows Obi-Wan won’t like.

Carefully, Obi-Wan puts down his cup of tea and laces together his fingers in his lap. He can already feel a seed of anger blooming inside of him. Since Anakin has re-entered his life and the Temple, he’s found that this deep, swirling rage is harder to give to the Force. And easier to feel at a moment’s notice.

Like almost all the differences in his life now, this can be put on Anakin through no fault of the boy’s own.

After all, Obi-Wan thinks to himself, it is much easier to feel this sort of fury at the galaxy’s injustices when living with someone who has suffered most all of the most grievous kinds.

“Just say it, Quinlan.” Obi-Wan says.

Vos clears his throat. “Where is...your charge?”

“My charge,” he repeats, unimpressed. “You know his name.”

“I know both of his names,” Quinlan fires back. “Does he prefer Anakin or Vader?”

The anger inside of him grows larger at the mention of Vader. As if Anakin would ever prefer the name Sidious gave to him. As if he had chosen it for himself.

As if the Jedi had played no part in the birth of Vader.

“Anakin is asleep,” is all Obi-Wan says.

Quinlan makes a show of peering down the hallway of Obi-Wan’s quarters to the two closed bedroom doors. “In whose bed?”

His hands tighten into fists beneath the table. “That is a bold accusation to make.”

“Why?” his old friend’s posture is forcibly casual, slumped in his seat and hand loosely wrapped around his cup. Obi-Wan wonders if this is how he looks when he’s undercover on missions. The thought settles heavily into his stomach and makes him sit up straighter. If this is a mission to Quinlan Vos, then what is his objective? What does he want with Obi-Wan?

With Anakin?

“The boy’s legally allowed to spread his legs for anyone he wants, Obi-Wan. He's nineteen and everything.”

Obi-Wan can feel his teeth grind together. The fury in his chest is building at an alarmingly fast rate. The thought of anyone touching Anakin like that when the boy’s so obviously traumatized and in need of a tender hand--if he were a lesser Jedi, he’d snarl at Vos to leave.

“Any consent Anakin offers anyone would be dubious at best,” he snaps. “He is nineteen, but he has spent the past ten years of his life being tortured and enslaved by Darth Sidious.”

Quinlan narrows his eyes and looks over Obi-Wan’s face. “That’s not your fault,” he finally says quietly, leaning forward as if to grip his arm before he thinks better of it. “Obi-Wan, listen to me. What happened to Anakin is tragic. Awful. Despicable. But it is not your fault.”

Obi-Wan looks away, his jaw clenched tightly before he forces himself to relax. “I only blame myself for not verifying what I was told.”

“Do you blame the Jedi Council then? For sending the boy away?”

“My master begged me to train the boy, Vos. And while I was in the Halls of Healing, they sent him back to Tatooine. And no one ever checked to make sure he got there. Sidious grabbed him because we--because they allowed him to. And then spent ten years torturing and breaking down a child right under our very noses! Who would you blame, Vos?”

“Sidious,” the other man answers easily. “The Council had no way of knowing that Sidious even knew about the boy, that he was in any danger at all--”

“He was nine!” Obi-Wan roars, slamming a fist on the table, unable to swallow the dark, heavy fury anymore. “He was a child. A slave! They were going to send him back there!”

“To his mother!”

“To his chains,” Obi-Wan corrects fiercely.

Vos purses his lips and crosses his arms. “He is not a child anymore, Obi-Wan. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. It’s worrying to me that you can’t see it. Or don’t want to see it.”

Obi-Wan wants to scoff. Anakin Skywalker is not dangerous. The boy gets night terrors, begs to be let into Obi-Wan’s bed, and can only sleep if he’s being cuddled up against his chest. He holds his blasted hand in public because he’s terrified of being separated from Obi-Wan again. He’s refused to even touch his lightsaber since the first night Obi-Wan stumbled upon him, bleeding in one of the lower levels of Coruscant. There are some days he won’t even let Obi-Wan touch him to hold him, and he shakes apart in the shadowy corner of his closet, reliving traumas Obi-Wan can’t help him with.

Dangerous. Dangerous.

“No, Obi-Wan, come on. You have to see. The boy’s turning you against the Jedi, against the Council!” “He doesn't need to," Obi-Wan says coldly. "The Jedi seem to be doing a fine job of that themselve."

“That's what I'm talking about!” Vos exclaims, waving an incensed hand. “The Obi-Wan Kenobi I knew would never say that! He would never think a bad thing about the Order, let alone say it! Let alone threaten to leave in the middle of a war if the Council didn’t grant him permission to keep the boy in his rooms! People talk, Obi-Wan! They’re not being kind!”

A thought bubbles up in Obi-Wan’s mind, vicious and sharp. Obi-Wan should not expect kindness from the Jedi. Not about Anakin. Everything they’ve ever done to and said about the boy proves that. Obi-Wan would have to abandon Anakin again to ensure the Council’s kindness and trust in him.

Obi-Wan would rather die than abandon the boy now when he needs him so obviously. He’d rather Fall than turn his back on Anakin, even if that’s what it took to stay in the Order.

“I think you should leave, Vos,” Obi-Wan murmurs quietly. “I think there is little left to say.”

His old friend stares at him from across the table in shock before he stands up without another word. At the door to his quarters, he freezes but doesn’t turn around. “You are attached, Obi-Wan. The Jedi Council will not stand for it. They will not allow it to continue.”

There’s something off with his voice, but Obi-Wan is too concerned with what he’s said to focus on anything else. “What do you mean?” he asks sharply, springing to his feet.

But Vos just shakes his head and leaves.

Obi-Wan collapses back into his seat as the door slides shut behind the man, his head buzzing with thoughts. That had sounded like a warning. Would the Council be so bold, so cruel, as to separate Obi-Wan and Anakin forcefully?

Yes, the thought flashes across his mind, followed by a swell of fury.

And then there’s a sleepy little questioning tug on the bond stretching between him and Anakin. His charge must have just woken up and found Obi-Wan still missing.

Obi-Wan tugs back, helpless against the urge to comfort Anakin. The bond explodes in a tidal wave of joy, the way it always does when Obi-Wan uses their illicit connection to communicate. He hadn’t in the early days, too afraid of the Council and the Code to do something so forbidden.

Now he cannot seem to muster enough regard for the Jedi to care. It is nice to feel Anakin in his mind, where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged.

---

In the bedroom that Obi-Wan keeps on insisting is not theirs, Vader allows his eyes to open as he slips out of meditation. He had been too forceful there at the end with Vos, fed him the exact words he needed him to tell his new master.

That sort of mind trick is too sloppy and easily discovered. It is much harder to trace emotional manipulation, especially over time. He’s been doing it for months now, the Jedis’ mental shields no match for his raw power trained to be sharp as a vibroblade.

It’s all just been a matter of slowly strengthening the other Jedis’ already existing mistrust and doubt about him, all the while crying to Obi-Wan about his past and his fears. It served to highlight the Jedi hypocrisy to his new master, and when he felt that first seed of anger grow in Kenobi’s mind, he encouraged it to grow faster.

The downside, of course, has been that Obi-Wan sees him as a scared child in need of protection. Vader is working on that too though, lengthening the touches they share and letting his shields fall at inopportune moments, like when he’s playing with himself in the fresher, so his master understands that Vader is capable of bringing him pleasure of all kinds.

It’s very important Obi-Wan understands that he can get everything he needs from Vader alone. There will be no one else, for either of them.

Sidious will die soon. The Jedi will die sooner. Vader and Obi-Wan can take their proper place, as Emperors of the Galaxy.

After Obi-Wan falls, of course.

It won’t take long now though.

Joy at the thought of one day looking into Obi-Wan’s golden eyes pushes Vader out of their bed and into the common area. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand a few times, and then it’s Anakin who’s crossing the space separating him from his master so he can settle in Obi-Wan’s lap.

Obi-Wan accepts him into his arms immediately, and Anakin has to fight the urge to smile in victory as he squirms in an attempt to get comfortable, only stopping when he’s straddling his master, sitting directly over his cock.

He wraps his arms around his master’s neck and buries his face in the juncture between his shoulder and throat.

Feeling daring, he licks slightly at the skin there, just to feel the way Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on his hips. “Missed you,” he murmurs, inhaling greedily.

Nothing in the entire universe smells as good as Obi-Wan, holds Anakin as gently as Obi-Wan, cares as much about him as Obi-Wan does.

He’d kill everyone in the galaxy for his master, if it was asked of him. He wouldn’t even think twice about it. And one day, soon, his master will feel the same.

Especially when his pesky Order has been dealt with, an execution order stamped with Sidious’ name. The only good thing his old master has ever given him.

The Jedi will die, Anakin will be blameless, and Obi-Wan will be safe from harm’s way. That’s why he’d had to push Vos so messily at the end there. Obi-Wan needs to be safe before the planned Order #66, and there’s no telling what Sidious will do now that Anakin has escaped.

“I heard voices,” he prompts, when Obi-Wan seems content to just sit silently and trace shapes on the bare skin of his back.

Obi-Wan hums. “Yes,” he admits. “An...old friend came to visit.”

Anakin bites gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s throat and pulls back enough to make eye contact. He doesn’t know if his eyes are blue or gold right now, but either way Obi-Wan seems entranced by them. Riveted.

He pouts. “Your old friends never stay around long enough to meet me,” he says with a tremble in his voice, as if he cares about Obi-Wan’s old friends.

Obi-Wan reaches a hand up and thumbs over Anakin’s bottom lip. Anakin holds his breath. It’ll ruin everything if he sucks at it right now, despite how much he’s craving to map the whorls with his tongue.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan breathes out, and Anakin changes his grasp so he’s now holding tightly to the front of his robes. “I must tell you something you may not want to hear.”

The Dark inside of him roars and snarls at this statement. If Obi-Wan has decided to make him leave, Anakin will not go quietly. Anakin will kill the entire Jedi Order himself, until this glowing angel--so warm, so bright in the Force--only has him.

“The Council will try to take you away from me,” his master murmurs.

Anakin makes his eyes go round and wet. It’s not even that much of an act: he just has to think of Obi-Wan agreeing with his stupid Council, and suddenly he’s appropriately tearful and afraid.

“No, no, Anakin, don’t cry,” his master croons, grasping the back of his neck and touching their foreheads together. Then, in a firmer tone, he says the words Anakin has been waiting to here for months. “I will not let that happen. We must leave the Order. I’m sorry, dear one. I can only imagine how much you wanted this place to be your home.”

Anakin has to rip his head out of Obi-Wan’s grasp and bury it in his neck so his dear master can’t see his smirk. Oh, Obi-Wan. The man may never understand that the only thing Anakin wants is already holding him tightly against his chest.

But Anakin will remind him. Anakin will remind him for the rest of his life.

“When do we leave?” Anakin whimpers, wondering if he’s overdoing it slightly, but Obi-Wan’s grip on his back only tightens.

When Obi-Wan speaks, his voice doesn’t waver at all. There’s not a single shred of indecision in his force signature either. “Tonight,” his master says, brushing a barely there kiss against the crown of his head. “We leave tonight.”

Vader smiles in bliss and burrows impossibly further into his master’s arms, nipping at his master’s skin again, just because he knows he will not be pushed away. This is the safest place in the galaxy, and now it will be his forever.

Victory tastes sweet. Obi-Wan’s skin tastes even sweeter.

[duskamethyst]

after party. (ft. keigo)

a/n: at this point i hope someone reads and enjoys it (i dont have any influence in this app lol). this is my longest fic yet.

word count: 6k

genre: quirkless AU, nsfw, smut, angst

warnings: fucked up– noncon/dubcon, tw physical abuse, tw emotional abuse, possessiveness, abusive relationships, cheating, intoxication (voluntarily), slight suicidal thoughts, yandere behavior

the behavior displayed by dabi is not love. no one deserves to be treated like shit in a relationship. if you are being abused, please find help.

pairing: dabi x f!reader (x keigo)

summary: keigo takes a liking on you but what does your ex boyfriend, dabi has to do say about it?

you walk out of the uber in your tight little dress with your friend and line in front of the club before the bouncers can check your IDs. your friend was the one who initiated the idea to go party since she had a rough day at work today and you would do anything to make her feel better so you agreed. besides, you were convinced that you were also in need of plenty of doses of serotonin and you haven’t gotten stupidly drunk for a while.

the echoes of the music that you heard from outside has become much louder and clearer as you walk inside the room. a throng of people are already wildly grinding against each other on the dance floor, some are making out and some just watch by their table, sipping on their expensive alcohol. your friend grabs you over by the bar to buy you some drink. one glass quickly turns to two, to three, four and five. you’ve finally reached your high and your body itches to join the crowd so you pull your friend towards the floor and squeeze in between bodies before you start to sway the night away – oblivious to the prying eyes that have been staring at you from one of the vip tables. 

you’re mouthing the lyrics as you shake your hips voluptuously with your hands snaking up and down from your hair to your body in a sultry manner, slightly aware of some of the males’ gazes around you but none even dare to make a move. you love how you manage to make their heads turn towards you while you’re doing the least and now you’re just drowning in euphoria and confidence. you know you’re stunning and you made damn sure that the dress you chose for tonight would show off your curves at the right places, not forgetting the hem barely covering your ass. you know you’re a fucking tease to those idiots.  

a pair of arms suddenly wraps around your waist and pulls you back, enveloping you into a warm and muscular hold – but loose enough for you to continue dancing. you turn your head back to the person and he raises his eyebrows invitingly as he locks his golden eyes with yours with a devilish smirk that graces his lips and instantly makes your heart leap. 

you feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. 

you keep on dancing and he slowly follows you from the back. when you boldly tease him by grinding your ass on his mid hard on, you can feel the grip on your hips hardens. with a proud smug tugging on your lips, you confidently turn your head to see him watching you down with his lip already between his teeth. you both know very well the effect you have on him right now.

“if you’re gonna do that, why don’t you come to my table?” he says loud enough in your ear to suppress the banging music. 

you pretend to think a little, though you know you can’t (and don’t want to)  turn down his offer – not when he’s this attractive because usually you’d easily reject any sleazy and scrawny guys without a second thought whenever they invite you for a drink with them. “i don’t know... should i?” you start to flirt.

“you like being a tease?” his hot breath lingers around your ear as he chuckles, sending a tingling sensation down to your core. “well, you’re damn good at it. come on.” 

from the look in your eyes, he already knows your game. he doesn’t give you a moment to answer and only smiles before pulling your hand as he walks you through the crowd. the fact that he is tall and built easily causes people to step away from him, making him look like moses parting the sea. you look around as you follow the man and spot your friend who is long forgotten, dancing with a random guy and giving you a thumbs up before shooing you away, most likely to tell you to just go with him.

by the time you reach his table, another guy that you assume as his friend is already seated and making out with a girl leaning next to him. you don’t have a clue of who they are and the dim lights aren’t really helping so you choose just to ignore it. 

“come here, baby.” the blonde pats on his lap as he sits down on the opposite side of the table, directly in front of his friend. there’s something about him that is mesmerizing as a whole and certainly, this man can easily get anyone that he wants. though you initially wanted to play hard to get, you find yourself to obey him, already straddling his laps as asked. you face him, wanting to give yourself a much clearer view of his features. his brows are thick and his lids are a little hooded, not sure if it’s from the alcohol or it’s naturally like that and he has some stubble on his chin. his eyes are dark – is he wearing eyeliner? but his golden irises make them bright at the same time. he’s too handsome for his own good and you’re pretty sure he knows it well. 

“such a pretty little thing.” he mumbles as his hand caresses your cheek and you’re hoping he doesn’t notice how your skin warms up to his touch.

you move your hips closer to his, your core grinding tauntingly through the fabric close to his groin. he rests his hands low on your back – too low and guides your hips as you continue to grind and roll against him, all while maintaining eye contact with you. 

“keigo. you can say it.” he suddenly says as he notices how you bite your lip from escaping any shameful noises as he bucks his hips closer to your needy cunt. you blankly stare at him before realizing that he just told you his name, most probably hear you to moan out. embarrassed, you lean and hide your face on the crook of his nape, involuntarily sniffing his cologne as you inhale. fuck, he also smells amazing. 

he laughs, “thought you were cheeky, but you’re also shy, huh?” 

the fact that he knows that he has the power of making you feel flustered gets on your nerves. as a retaliation, you bite the soft skin on his neck and successfully feel his body tenses up a little as a response. you grin victoriously against his skin and decide to deliberately try to get more reaction from him as you begin to suck and nibble on the same spot and it’s already making him shudder.

“already marking me, babe?” keigo looks at you as you pull away. “i’ll be sure to put ‘rough’ on the list then.” he grabs and squeezes your ass before pulling you into a hungry kiss, taking you off guard but you’re more than happy to return. you can feel that your dress is moving up almost revealing half of your ass from the way he keeps on clutching it along with the fabric and his friend can probably see a bit of your panties but you couldn’t care less, not when you feel so needy right now.

“get a room.” a deep voice from the other side suddenly interrupts.

keigo pulls away and glares at his friend past your shoulder. the remark alone suddenly makes you feel bad and ashamed so you think it’s best if you don’t turn around, no matter how much you want to tell him to piss off-- but he also probably paid for the table so you have no place to say that at all. 

“shut up, dabi.” 

dabi?

sure, you’re tipsy but you’re sober enough (and not deaf) to clearly hear what keigo said and it’s a name that you never want to come across again, let alone the person himself. you don’t want to be reminded of the person that hurt you so many times before. the person who threw out a year long relationship for his own desires and constantly making you feel bad about yourself, like you’re not enough and blamed you for the reason of why he cheated on you. the thoughts and memories of him haunted you for so long and you were grateful when you finally managed to get over it but now... guess you thought wrong.

the feeling of embarrassment you had is replaced by fear. you don’t have to see it but you know that dabi is wearing that ugly smirk when he sees how your body freezes and quick to pull down your dress properly. in a second, your brilliant portrayal of femme fatale suddenly vanishes into thin air. the bass from the music suddenly feels so loud and it makes your head dizzy. god, it’s all too awful. keigo notices your uneasiness that his jackass friend caused and he immediately pulls you into a hug. he apologizes to you but you can only manage a meek nod of your head. 

“let’s go somewhere else.” he comforts you before you get off his lap and stand up with him to leave. your head is hanging low, staring at nothing but the floor. you can’t comprehend what you’re feeling right now. is it embarrassment? horror? anger? are you being set up? you can’t bring yourself to look at dabi in the eyes and you don’t want to be in his presence any longer. you’re already wishing for the ground to swallow you whole. you just want to leave. somewhere. anywhere. 

“leaving already? don’t want to introduce me to your friend?” keigo stops in his tracks before turning around to his friend with an eye roll. you, on the other hand, aren’t sure whether the question is directed at you or keigo but you can feel that dabi is intensely burning holes through you and it makes you want to puke. 

keigo wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, “sorry. i don’t think she wants to know you, dude.” he sneers and walks away with you before dabi gets the chance to say anything. the last thing keigo wants is a fight with his friend right now. he’s the worst when he’s drunk, after all. 

“i’m sorry about my friend,” keigo apologizes again as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger’s door for you before walking around it and getting in the driver’s seat. “but that’s dabi for you. annoying fella.” he laughs and starts the engine. 

“it’s fine.” it isn’t – but you force a smile and you don’t want him to think that you’re weird-- you have to keep up and act normal. keigo sighs in relief and puts his hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as he drives the whole way. from your understanding and the way he talks about him, keigo probably doesn’t know that you and dabi used to be a thing and you don’t plan on telling him much about your life either. it’s not a surprise since dabi was the one that wanted the relationship to be discreet – or in his book it’s called “lowkey” or “private”. it felt like he was hiding you from a part of his world.

thus, he barely (or most likely never, if he didn’t hold your hand on dates) showed you off and you had never met his family and friends. you were so in love with him so you tolerated, but the moment you started to bother him by asking why (or when you asked him to post your pictures together on his stories at least), he’d lose his shit. he said that he was not into those kind of stuffs and he hated and cringed when people showed off their partners excessively, so putting himself on the same level as them was the last thing he wanted-- until you found out the real reason: he was fucking around behind your back. 

and it didn’t happen once. it was hard but you forgave him the first time when he apologized. he said he was so sorry, he’d change and he couldn’t live without you, all those things you wanted to hear. you knew you had and wanted to give him a chance. you loved him but trust wasn’t something that was easy to build and you were always wary of him a couple of months after that. he found it ridiculous when you tried to check his phone so much, said that you were overreacting and it often broke into a fight. deep inside, you knew he was doing it again. you’d yell at each other and one of you would end up bruised after. later he’d say he was sorry for what he did, make up with hot sex, whisper sweet nothings to you and you would forgive him again – and the cycle repeated itself. in the end, there was never a proper closure but the day he took away all his belongings from your place, you both knew it was already over and none of you ever said anything since then. it was devastating but so liberating.

right now, you’re not sure where keigo is taking you and you don’t care because you’re just glad that you and him didn’t have to deal with your ex for too long back there. keigo tries to crack some jokes as he drives and keeps on recommending to you the songs that he currently likes by playing it on the radio. your mood lifts up gradually as you hear him sing and the thought of dabi slowly becomes a blur.

he brings you to his house (or mansion, by the size of it) and offers you a drink. he’s regretful that he couldn’t buy you a drink earlier since he ended up just making out with you before the whole dabi fiasco happened. so he brings out one of his expensive liquors for both of you before nuzzling on his sofa. after a light hearted conversation and a few sips of the alcohol, you’re quick to get drunk and giddy again. keigo softly caresses his hand up and down your thigh as you mumble nonsense but the lack of response from the male makes you turn your head to him and he’s already staring at you. it’s quiet for a few moments before both of your reddened faces inch closer and you impatiently crash your lips onto his. he hums into the kiss while his hands rub gently on your sides.

“not here.” he bites your lower lip and picks you up bridal style. you giggle as he brings you upstairs to his room before throwing you on his bed. keigo gets on top of you and kisses you hungrily, only pulling away to take off his shirt to reveal his toned body and goes back to kiss you again. his hands roam greedily all over your body as if you’ll be gone if he lets go before slipping one of his hands under your dress, feeling the wet pool already formed against the thin fabric. 

“oh?” he smirks, rubbing your wet slits with his fingers and watches you as you squirm under him. keigo immediately leans down between your legs and licks a wet strip through your panties. “i wanted to give payback for what you did, but i can’t wait anymore.” 

keigo pulls your panties to the side and starts to lap off your juices like a starved man, the aftertaste of the liquor he had earlier replaced by your flavor. your legs begin to tremble as his tongue expertly licks your clit and through your folds. keigo watches you between your thighs, your mouth gaping as you chant his name repetitively like a prayer while your hands clench on his soft pillow. 

“cum on my face, baby.” he soothes his erection against the mattress, grinding through the sheets as he focuses on making you orgasm. 

“oh, fuck – keigo!” you squeal as he slides in two fingers inside your sloppy cunt and the lewd sloshing sounds do nothing but make you and keigo even more aroused. you press your thighs together as you feel the coil inside you tighten up but his free hand pushes them apart from crushing his head. with a suck on the clit, he eventually pushes you over the edge and he grins proudly as you cum. he licks your juices off and hovers back up to you and kisses you again, making you taste yourself. 

“you taste so fucking good,” he whispers as he pulls the straps of your dress down to reveal your breasts before getting up to his knees to take off your panties and anything he has left, freeing his hard cock. “i’m gonna leave you with that on because you look so –” he smacks your thigh, “fucking hot in it. pretty sure you thought hard about wearing that dress.” he chuckles.

“happy to know it’s doing its job.” you giggle as you eagerly spread your legs again before him. god, alcohol really makes you forget every ounce of shame you’re supposed to have, doesn’t it? 

keigo gives his cock a few pumps with his hand before he leans forward to slide inside your soppy cunt and he hisses as the warmth engulfs him while you feel every vein against your tight walls. he slowly starts to move his hips when he hears you moan his name again before building up the pace. you wrap your legs around his waist and he leans closer to you, enabling you to hold him while he fucks harder. 

“fuck,” he groans. “you feel so good.” 

your nails are clawing his bare back, making him want to thrust into you faster. the quiet room now filled with moans, squelching sounds and skins slapping against each other. keigo nibbles on your neck while his hand reaches down to press and circle your neglected clit, quickly causing you to reach your climax.

“wanna cum!” you cry, the aftermath of your previous orgasm making you sensitive even more. 

“yeah? baby wants to cum on my cock?” 

“please, please, keigo!” you beg as your toe curls and the legs you have wrapped around him pushes him down and deeper into you. you can feel your walls tightening as he thrusts harder through the spongy walls and with a couple more circles on your clit, your eyes roll back as you come undone. keigo continues to fuck you and you can feel that he’s close by the way his cock twitches inside you before he shoots ropes of thick cum inside you. 

the both of you are left in a daze as you pant and keigo slowly pulls out his cock before laying next to you and pulls you close into his warm embrace. 

“you did so great, baby. oh, god.” he says between breaths as he caresses your hair and kisses your head. the silent ambience and the fact that the both of you are dead tired from the whole night eventually causes the both of you to fall asleep in each others’ arms instantly. 

you wake up suddenly and see that it’s still dark outside. you can only assume that it’s currently four to five in the morning and you turn to your side to see keigo is still sleeping peacefully next to you. you know it’s best to not stay around any longer, you’re not looking for a relationship though it’s a shame because telling by the way he treated you, this man is just amazing.

then again, you only know his name. worse, he’s a friend of your ex boyfriend and that’s just kind of fucked up in a lot of ways.

quietly getting off his bed, you put back on your panties and carefully open the door before walking back downstairs. the place is so huge but you manage to find your handbag from the sofa earlier and head straight outside before you can call the uber back to your apartment. surely you hope keigo doesn’t mind that you’re leaving him so suddenly. heck, you might even be doing him a favor. he was nice and thoughtful to you throughout the night but it’s really hard to put someone that’s been around dabi in your good graces now.

the elevator stops on your floor and you walk through the same, familiar hall while rummaging through your handbag to look for your keys through the receipts that you always reminded yourself to but forgot to throw out from your bag. the minute you lift up your head to watch where you’re going, you stop in your tracks as you see a man leaning against your door. a man that you thought you’re not going to see so soon and now you’re thinking that staying with keigo until the morning probably was the best idea. 

but it’s too late for that. he already notices you.

you can feel your blood boiling and your hands clenching into a fist. he’s wearing that stupid smirk that you’ve always used to adore – the same one that made you swoon once but now it only makes you want to punch him hard and break a tooth or two – if only you’re brave enough.

“the fuck you’re doing here?” you snarl at him with every ounce of bravery you still have inside you. you’re grateful that you don’t sound as meek as you expected to but seeing you like this amuses him even more. he had always liked it when you were all riled up until he thought that it was annoying and ‘had’ to get physical to shut you up.

dabi whistles, “mm, feisty.” 

you roll your eyes and ignore him as he steps away for you to open your door. you try to remain calm and stop your hand from shaking as you insert and twist the key through the keyhole so he won’t even get the hint that you’re shitting inside your pants right now. you quickly get inside your house once it’s unlocked and instantly push the door close, but to only have his foot to stop it from closing. you begin to panic and try to push the door harder while he tries to push the door back from the other side. 

“let me in.” he slurs as he leans down to meet you on eye level. the azure eyes that used to be captivating and mesmerizing are now dark and horrifying-- like when he used to look down at you condescendingly while your body was trembling on the floor.

“no! dabi! you’re drunk!” you scream as tears begin to prickle your eyes.

“don’t be like that. come on, i just wanna talk.” he says calmly with a smile, in an attempt to calm you down, though the smile doesn’t really reach his eyes and only scares you even more. you’re certain that he can see fear running through your eyes.

“fuck off!” you push the door with all the strength you have left. you’re not naive, you know that dabi is far stronger than you and you can only hope for a miracle to happen right now – for someone up there to suddenly grant you superhuman strength so you could shove the door right in his face or to just make dabi give up from pursuing you.

but you can only hope. there’s no such thing as super powers and you know damn well your ex boyfriend is not the type to easily give up on the things he wants. 

“let. me. in.” he threatens under his breath. “you don’t want to make me angry.” 

a wave of bitter flashbacks creeps into your mind again, as if seeing his face isn’t enough to remind you of the past you desperately want to forget. you feel your body tremble and grow weaker as you look at the monster outside your door again and when he feels the force from your side drops, dabi takes the opportunity to easily push back the door and invites himself in and makes sure to lock the door before turning to you.

your shaky legs weren’t enough to support you and caused you to tumble back when the door swung open. you look down to the floor as you shake and sob while dabi walks slowly towards you before kneeling down in front of you.

“baby, look at me.” he coos. 

your body stays frozen in place, your head suddenly weighs too heavy to lift itself up. you’re a sobbing mess and you don’t want him to see that. judging from the experience you’ve had with him, you know it’s wise to not make him repeat things twice so you slowly force yourself to look up at him to see his blue eyes already taunting you. dabi shushes you as you cry even harder when you face him and he gently strokes your hair to soothe you. his touch is far from comforting and it’s nothing like how keigo played with your hair earlier. 

“you missed me that much?” he chuckles as he wipes away your tears with his calloused thumbs. you’re too afraid, you can’t even muster any reaction no matter how much you want to, you can only weep in his hold. 

“i know i was happy when i saw you,” his lips curl into a grin before it swiftly turns into an unpleasant scowl as he replays the scene inside his head. “until you decided to whore out for my friend. right. in. my. fucking. face.”  

you quickly shake your head to deny his accusation. well, it’s true that he’s friends with keigo but how could you have known? you couldn’t even see him when a girl was literally sucking off his face when you came up to their table! let alone the fact he never introduced you to his friends while you were together!

“n-no– i didn’t know–” 

an abrupt loud pang echoes throughout the room. it was so quick but now, somehow, you suddenly feel a stinging pain on your cheek. your eyes widen as your palm reaches for the burn on your skin, as if to reaffirm yourself that yes, you just got slapped by dabi. again.

“you don’t get to talk back.” he scoffs as he looks at you in irritation. 

your fear turns to anger and it suddenly gives you courage to defend yourself. you start to wail again and push his body away from you, to make an effort for him to walk out the door – to go away. you keep on pushing his chest and his hands whenever he tries to grab a hold of you. you’re aware that you look and sound hysteric but you just want him out. out of your house, out of your life forever. 

of course, it’s a pathetic display to dabi. he went through this with you before, you’d never win against him and it would never make the slightest change. he’s two times your size, a little push won’t budge him. it only annoys him more. 

dabi easily grabs your wrists with one of his hands while his other free hand grabs you by the hair from the back of your head, yanking your head to tilt upwards. understanding that this is your utter defeat, you can only manage to sob helplessly again. 

“you didn’t know?” he growls. “you did it just to spite me, didn’t you?” 

you try to shake your head no, but the stinging pain from your scalp won’t allow you. 

“did you fuck him?” 

you don’t answer, not even a nod or a shake of your head as you only continue crying. 

“did you,” he clutches harder and causes you to wail louder, “or did you not?” 

you’re convinced anyone can hear you through the wall but what are the chances for your neighbors to actually want to get involved this early in the morning? especially when they’re the type to only mind their own business.

“fuck. you did.” he sees the distinctive bruise on your neck and finally pushes you free from his grasps – as if the sight of it makes him feel disgusted that another man had already fucked you. but it’s okay! he can turn that around and make it right. “you’re gonna make up for me, yeah?” 

you swallow hard as you look at him, unsure if you can speak so you carefully manage a timid whisper, “wh-what do you mean?” 

dabi's lips tug into a smirk. he’s glad you asked. 

“i’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna take it. i’m gonna make you forget about that asshole.” 

you shake your head no and start to crawl away but dabi is quick to grab and pull you back to him. if you had a book about yourself, he already finished reading it. he knows you like the back of his hand by now and you both know that.

dabi positions you on your knees, cheek rests on the hard, wooden floor so you can directly stare at the wall and pushes your back down into a desirable arch that gives the best view of your ass for him. when you try to wriggle out from his rough grasps on your hips, he gives a hard slap on your ass.

“doll, it won’t hurt if you behave.” he chuckles darkly as he pulls his pants along with his briefs down to his knees before pushing the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the panties that were peeking in front of him earlier.

“dabi, please. don’t do this.” you glance back towards him pleadingly but he only snickers in amusement.

“shh, i’ll be gentle this time.” he takes off the flimsy fabric down to your knees before rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and he continues doing so until he feels a wet slick slowly starting to drool from your cunt. with a stroke of his tongue, he laps off your juices and hums at the taste that fills his buds. oh how he missed it, how he always adored how you tasted in his mouth. 

you bite your lip to suppress any whimpers when his warm tongue glides on your throbbing clit ravenously. it shouldn’t feel good, but it does. you keep reminding how much you hate him and the millions of reasons why but god, he’s so good, it’s leaving your mind in a haze. he still remembers where and how to make you ache for him. unlike him with other girls, he memorized every inch of your body because you’re just that special to him.

dabi glances at you to see how your brows are already knitted together as you close your eyes shut and your lips pressing into a thin line to try not to entertain him with any sort of reaction. it’s so endearing. 

dabi pulls away and slaps your ass, “you like that, doll?” 

you keep quiet and refuse to look at him but he is quick to draw your attention to him as he rubs the tip of his cock along your sloppy folds, coating his cock with your slick and nudges on your clit with his tip while your body trembles underneath him. he spits on your cunt before he presses the tip of his cock in, causing you to gasp at his thick girth. 

“so fucking –” he grunts as he pushes inside through your walls, “tight.” 

you whimper as you feel him stretch you out but once you quickly get used to it, you subconsciously buck your hips closer to him to take him more. dabi chuckles in amusement when he sees how you easily give in and stroke his ego by submitting yourself to him. he knows he could never be replaced. he knows how your tight cunt still remembers how his cock felt inside you.

he groans in deeply as he starts to thrust his cock in and out of you before picking up into a much brutal pace and your nails start to claw and dig the plain floor, “t-too much, dabi!” 

your cries fall into deaf ears as he drowns himself into his own pleasure while you try your best to take him in until you’re quick to acclimatize to his rhythm and you start to mindlessly slip out moans after moans from your lips in a sinful chant. 

dabi smirks arrogantly as he watches you becoming a mess for him and he leans down closer, causing the tip of his cock to hit your cervix each time he rams inside. “bet he didn’t fuck you this good, hmm? bet you were– fuck– thinking of my cock instead.” 

your mind is hazy as you’re succumbed into your carnal desire, already fucked dumb by his thick cock to even build coherent sentences so a few single ‘yes’ are the only thing you can manage to say. 

“you’re clamping down on me baby,” he laughs. “gonna cum in this tight cunt, yeah?” 

his words send a jolt of electricity down to your core and your breath begins to hitch as you’re able to feel your third orgasm for the night begin to wash over your body. dabi realizes this as he feels your body shaking under him and your walls contracting around his cock. he takes this chance to slow down his pace so he can hear you beg for him. he wants to be reminded that only he can make you feel this good. not his friend keigo, no one. 

“w-wanna cum!” you whine in desperation as your hips buck to meet his thrusts. 

“yeah? say my name.” he taunts. to be calling for his name in a situation like this is humiliating enough and he lives for this moment. he loves how he’s able to turn you into a dumb, drooling mess for his cock and itching for a release.

“d-dabi, please.”

“whose fucking pussy is this?” he gives a deep thrust as he emphasizes the word, making you yelp in surprise. 

“y-yours!” 

“you’re goddamn right.” he continues to pound into your tight cunt relentlessly before his hand reaches to press down and rub your clit with his thumb, just enough to make you see stars and lips part in a silent scream as you finally come undone. 

dabi groans as he feels your walls clamping around his cock, his nails already forming red, crescent shapes as he continues to chase after his own orgasm. 

“fuck– i’m gonna fill up this pussy.” his thrusts begin to stutter as he feels his climax washes through him and his cock twitches inside you before he releases hot cum inside you. 

dabi’s grins proudly as he watches your limp body slumped down against the floor as he pulls out his cock. he makes sure to put back the dripping cum inside your cunt with his finger, making you shriek weakly from overstimulation. 

the both of you say nothing as he picks you up and takes you to your room. both are too drained for any further arguments and he’s glad that you’re not trying to make a fuss anymore. he puts you on your bed and you swiftly turn to your side before feeling the bed dips behind you as he puts his weight down on it. 

dabi wraps his arm around you and presses your back to his chest. you went through so much tonight, you can’t even bother to cry anymore and you’re too numb to process all your feelings right now. you don’t know what will happen tomorrow instead you wish it won’t come at all. 

“we’ll start over.” a faint voice suddenly cracks the silent room.

you want to laugh. with your clouded mind, you can’t make up whether it’s dabi who just said it or is it only a voice in your mind that subconsciously replays the same damn sentences that you heard way too often after each time you were laid bruised and limp on the bed, in the exact same position as you and dabi are now. nonetheless, you remain still and ignore it as your eyelids start to feel too heavy to keep your eyes open and your vision fades into darkness, despite the warm orange morning glow looming in the corner of the room as the sun begins to rise. 

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[simpsiren]

the ukiyo standalone;

park jisung x reader

Jisung is everyone’s joy and prized possession. Being the youngest of his friend group and with his child-like nature, he’s certainly the one that everyone favours. He’s adorable, innocent, pure. You would think he’s well known in college but in actuality, he’s pretty hidden, living his life in the shadow of his friends. He didn’t mind it really. He didn’t need to feel the crowd prying their eyes into his business like his friends, which was why he actually isn’t seen with them often in the first place, he didn’t need to stand out.

genre. fluff, angst, emotional, heart warming aNd heart breaking 

word count. 20k~

description. In this current fast pace world, there was never really a time I could take a break. I did choose this path as a lawyer major knowing I would be drowning myself with papers every single night and pulling all-nighters for an inhumane number of days. As much as I want or even need to rest, I never could. This was the path I’ve chosen. And my pride was too high to let myself stop the grind. That is until I made a mistake of calling an unknown number who belonged to a guy named Jisung at the campus library. I thought he was a waste of time till I realised he showed me to slow down, not having to force my body to move with the world’s speed, to be my ukiyo; my floating world.

!as they should masterlist!

Jisung liked doing social experiments. It was practically his side hobby, something he’d do when there wasn’t anything important on his to-do list. He was simply interested at how the students at his campus would react upon weird occurrences around them. It got students talking whenever he did something, the fact that they didn’t know it was his doing is one of the reasons why he does it in the first place.

On this particular night, where Jisung was staring out of his window from his study table that was directly in front of it, giving the clearest view of the stars and especially the bright moon that reflected its light through his cracked open window and onto his study table, he was wondering about what to do next. What would get people to feel weirded out. What would get them to react a certain way.

When an idea came to mind, the light bulb hovering over his head switched on, the gears began to turn. It wasn’t the most brilliant idea, but it could go both ways. Either the students don’t bother even taking in their surroundings to notice it, or suffer the loss of not getting help. Jisung’s a dance major but he liked doing these projects for the fun of it so might as well. Jisung peeled off a random piece of sticky note from the stack with his other stationeries. Clicking his pen, he immediately went to writing.

When times you aren’t feeling fine, just call this number. I’ll try to be available 24/7.

Jisung frowned slightly and tilted his head. If he were to paste his numbers all over the school, he would probably be bombarded with calls every two seconds. It also didn’t make sense for him to be available 24/7. Clearly that was impossible. His frown deepened. He thought for a long moment, trying to phrase a sentence that was more suitable for what he wanted to do. With a smack of his lips and an unsure hiss, he grabbed a new sticky note and started again.

Glad you came to notice this note laying wherever you are in the library. Feeling stressed? Need someone to talk to? Simply need a friend? My number’s below. You don’t have to know who I am. I’m just here to help you out, mentally I guess. I’m available from 1PM-3AM. Call whenever you feel the need to. Have a nice day :D (don’t worry I’m not some stalker or whatever i’m just a bored student here)

Jisung clicked his pen against the table to close it, his eyes scanning over his words, which might he add was beautifully written, like calligraphy. Jisung couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that thought. He threw the pen off to the side and went to his printer with the sticky note, now moving on to making copies. He wanted to copy a reasonable number, not too little till no one noticed or too many till it was extremely obvious, but well enough for him to get at least a small chance of getting a response. With a number in mind, he began printing.

The next day, he went for his lecture in the morning. He preferred having the morning lectures just so he could spend the rest of his day doing whatever. And on today’s agenda was the pasting of his notes. With the weight of his bag pulling his shoulders and back down, he wished he could go back to the dorms right now and start of his assignment but he wanted to settle this first.

He entered the library. It wasn’t too crowded. Students were fairly spaced apart from each other in the study area, sparse. Some students were at shelves. With his hands still shoved into the pockets of his black Adidas jacket, he make his way over to a random study table. He needed to do this quick to avoid suspicion. But why would students notice anyway? They had their heads digged into whatever work that was incomplete.

Jisung slowed himself down and took out the a note from the small file he had in his bag along woth a large clear tape role. He had to put his bag down, searching for the scissors. He cut a reasonable amount of tape after placing the note in the bottom right corner and placed it over top, sealing the note onto the table. Jisung back away for a moment, taking a long look at it. It was small, but still noticeable. With a satisfied shrug, he went on to do the same for some other tables, even going to bookshelves and randomly pasting them anywhere he wished.

What he didn’t know, was that he was being watch.

I had my brain wrapped around this essay for who knows how long now. Hours, days. Having to redo my research for the fith time was about to have my head spinning till it lolled, out of energy and brain power to hold up. I stared down at the notes scattered all over. The table was a huge mess, loosing track of how many pages I’ve flipped and how many articles I read online, as well as time of course. I sighed quietly, leaning back and closing my eyes, wanting to rest them for a brief moment.

When my eyelids opened back, I couldn’t help but notice the person that had been hovering around the study tables for far too long. It was distracting, watching him move from table to table at the corner of my eye. And though my attention had been on my papers, he was still to be seen in my peripheral vision. I blinked my eyes rapidly and shook my head, refusing to let a small matter tick me off to the point where I wasn’t able to do my work.

I straightened my back and adjusted my shoulders. Closing back my eyes, I took in a deep breath, chest puffing up as I gave myself a determined nod. I shot my eyes back open and with full exhilaration running through my veins, I got back to work, shutting the world out so it was just me and my work, wanting to get it done and over with.

Again I lost track of time, but in a much more productive way than how I was in the morning. I didn’t have classes today, making full use of my free time on my work. I pressed the final key on my keyboard, ending my essay with an exhale of satisfaction. I leaned back into the seat, throwing my head back till it went past the backrest. I placed my hands on the arms of the chair, and it was then did I realise that the library was extremely quiet.

I took in my surroundings, slow scanninv my eyes over the library. It was already dark, some areas pitch black while other were visible with the help of the moonlight shining through the windows. It was only the light at my study table that illuminated the area around with a orange hue. I didn’t mind being the inly one here, but sometimes it felt eerily quiet, like tonight. I grabbed my phone that was shoved into my bag. Lifting it up in front of me, the lockscreen showed itself, as well as the ungodly hour blaring at me.

“Three in the morning? How did I even...” I tilted my head slowly in awe, surpised at just how time flew by when I was immersed in completing my assignment. I read through my essay, having to close my eyes halfway due to how bright the screen of my laptop was. I was scanning through the first paragraph when I immediately went to shut down, already too tired to have one last scan through and making the mental decision of doing it tomorrow.

I packed up immediately, the thought of my bed and sleeping now being the number one priority. I shoved all my things in my tote bag, slinging it on my right shoulder. I was already taking off, a mere few steps away from the exit when I saw something shining at the corner of my eye. I stopped and turned on my heel to the study table. Slowly, my eyes trailed to the bottom right corner where the source of my pause came from. Turned out it was simply the light reflected of a tape. But upon further inspection, I went closer noticing it wasn’t just tape, but a note.

I read it over, having to brush some strands of hair behind my ear that was annoyingly covering the note. I quirked an eyebrow in a questioning manner, leaning back to my standing form once I was done reading, yet my eyes were glued to the impressively written note. “Who gives out their number just like that?” I couldn’t help but wonder under my breath. Too tired to even register any more information, I let this weird occurrence slid out of my mind, continuing to make my way out of the library and back to my dorm where I instantly fell asleep with no second thoughts.

The next day I got up, the light shining through the small holes of my curtain blinding me awake. I searched for my phone under my pillow, plugging out its charger while I scrolled through my social media, specifically Twitter. The first thing that popped up on my timeline was a tweet from the campus’s very own account. No one knows who it was made by, but you can bet that whoever they are has their eyes everywhere around the school, tweeting about the latest gossips or news around campus grounds. Today’s one sparked a memory from last night.

Someone’s at it again stirring up the attention of our students by having their number out in the open for everyone to see in our library. Was there more to it than just wanting to offer help through call service?

I scoffed, glancing away for a moment before retrieving my gaze back to my phone. “Do they actually want people calling them?” I asked myself while scrolling my thumb up to look at the other tweets below. It did come to my attention that night, now picturing the note in my mind. I didn’t remember the number, but it was there, and something about it was drawing the curiosity in me to find out more. With a grunt I shot myself out of bed, getting ready to head to the library again to study.

I hadn’t expected how much time would pass by just from me studying. I’ve been in the library for almost a full day. I was being sent on an emotional roller coaster ride. Some hours being a breeze as I studied the easiest topics, while others had me wanting to rip my hair off my scalp from trying to shove all the information in my brain when it felt like it was at its full capacity. I wasn’t myself today. I kept looking at my phone that was a distraction, which was something I never did at all while studying. I was off the edge.

With exams coming up in a month’s time, I knew I was studying too much too early. But I always had to stick to my life motto. “Get it done and over with.” I muttered to myself. But tonight, at one in the morning, my body and mind couldn’t register any more information. I couldn’t. I was tired, exhausted. Drained. The stress came barreling in full force and I hated how I was making myself feel this way by always being on edge and doing things too fast to keep up with everything else in life.

Wanting to clear my head, I began gathering some of my notes, stacking them up to the clean the table that was in a huge mess. My eyes have grown used to this sight, but I was simply cleaning for the sake of procrastinating and putting off the desire to complete aoother topic. When I was done cleaning one section of the table, something struck my attention. I looked to the bottom right corner of the table. And there it was. The note that’s been in the hidden folds of my mind when I pushed them back to focus on studying.

My eyes went from left to right, specifically at the number since I’ve remembered the note unusually vividly. “Should I?” I whispered. I looked around, no one was to be seen. Weird, since I’d usually see at least one student here despite the late hour. I exhaled softly, letting the cold air that circulated around me in the night cool my skin while I picked up my phone from the table and keyed in the number. I wasn’t thinking about what I was getting myself into. At this point, I was already overloaded with my studies that I was malfunctioning, clearly not thinking straight.

I placed the phone up to my ear, leaning forward and letting my upper body rest against the table while I placed my chin in the palm of my free hand. The ringing went on for five times, and I was about to hang up when I heard the sound of the phone being picked up. “Hey. Who’s this?” It was a guy. Could it be the one that I saw lurking around that day? I gulped and cleared my throat, opening my mouth and letting out an “Uh..” while trying to figure out what to say. “Your number is here. One the study table at the library.” I simply said, wondering what he’ll respond with.

Sudden shuffles could be heard. It went on for a brief moment till he exclaimed, “Oh! Right, right. Hey! I’m at your service, what do you need?” His voice sounded dry and coarse, like he had forgotten to drink water before he slept. Was he sleeping and picked up while he’s half asleep? I ran a hand through my hair, adjusting to get comfortable. “A listening ear. That’s all I need.” I murmured through the speaker. I had to let it all out. And it came to the point where I’d rather actually talk to a stranger about my problems than anyone I knew. But that’s how we all are nowadays, right? Too self conscious and simply wanting to put on an act for the whole world.

“Go on. I’m all ears.” He replied back, sounding attentive and somewhat interested. I didn’t want to think much of it. He was clearly like this to everyone else who called for “his service”. Being receptive and responsive. Kind and willing. That’s what he sounded like. The first person to actually say something that felt like all those things at once, to me.

“Do...” I trailed off, shaking my head and wondering what I even wanted to say in the first place. I smacked my lips. “Don’t you just feel tired? Of like the whole world. Everything and everyone around you. You’re tired physically and emotionally.” He hummed in response. “Of course I do. A lot of people feel that.” I scoffed softly, biting my bottom lip. “Yes but, the other thing that’s making me tired... is myself. I have this habit of just overloading my brain with lots of things. It feel as if I’m making myself stress on purpose.” I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly as the words left my lips.

“I always wanted to the best I could be. And that led to me just grinding and grindinv everyday with no end. I barely get to sleep, and even if I did. I’ll wake up and the whole cycle will repeat itself. I fucking hate that I’m in this loop. But I chose to be here. I can’t break out.” My voice began to crack. It took me awhile to realise that I was crying till my tears fell on the papers and made its mark by crinkling the paper while it soaked up my tears. I blotched them off my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Hey, if-”

“And don’t.” I cut him off instantly before he could even utter another word. “Don’t tell me other people are going through the same thing.” I shut my eyes close, heaving a slow and heavy sigh. “I know. Everyone in my major goes through the same process. I’m weak. Even though I try to act like I’m the best student. My tolerance level can go down the drain for all I care.” I paused for a moment, mentally telling himt to resume whatever he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t read my mind.

But from the pause he knew what it meant and picked it up quickly, clearing his throat. “I was about to say if you want to cry, you can. I can tell that you’re holding it in and I don’t even need to see you.” I sniffled, the feeling of wanting to burst into tears again came about, rising in my body and making my chest clench. “It’s okay.” As if on cue, I screamed, cried, poured it all out. I threw my phone down, the call still on as I wailed into my palms, pressing my face against them. I’ve never had such a breakdown in months, simply shoving it to the back of my mind and kept ignoring it till it came out like this. A full blown terror.

I wanted to talk, yet my mouth couldn’t form any words. All that came out were sniffles as I calmed myself down. “I don’t really have much to say on this. And you probably don’t even want to hear me talk but you should take a break. Really. Just one day. You need it. Because you seriously don’t sound okay.” I couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, a very weak and effortless one. “I never thought of that, Captain Obvious.” I rolled my eyes, a smile cracking through for a brief moment.

He chuckle on the other end of the line. “You thought of it but didn’t put it into action.” He stated, sounding slightly firm. “Yes.” I admitted dryly. A few beats of silence passed, I could hear his breathing, calm and soothing. “I think I should, um, go now?” It was suppose to be a statement but due to me trying to recover from my mess, it came out as a question. I could hear him licking his lips. “Yes of course. Oh and hey.” “Yeah?”

“Do you need help with that rest day of yours?” I didn’t reply, giving it a long throught. “I probably won’t even be doing it.” I said through a sigh, beginning to pack up my things to head out of the library. “But you should. Actually, you will. I want to make sure of it.” I couldn’t help but furrow my eyebrows at his unexpected tone of determination. “Don’t you have other people to attend to for your call service?” I questioned.

“You’re actually the first one.” I could tell he was feeling rather embarrassed, letting out a tight laugh after his statement. “And I don’t even know who you are.” I was now walking out of the library, phone still to the ear while I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder. “For starters, I’m a dance major. I’d like to mostly keep my identity hidden for now. Unless you want to meet.”

I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly, somewhat in disbelief. “You want to meet?” I echoed his question back to him, head tilted mere degrees to the side. “Well I have to make sure you have that rest day of yours. How can I when I don’t meet you?” I chuckled softly, the corner of my lips perking up. “I’ll think about it. At least I have your number now.”

“Always at your service, miss. Have a good night.”

With that, the call ended. I didn’t realisd just how much time passed by simply talking to him. It went by so fast. It was already getting pretty late by the time I checked my phone for the time. I made my way back to the dorm, the cold breeze of the night kissing my skin gently and blowing strands of hair into my face that I had to brush off. I looked up to the sky, for once the world was quiet, at rest, and just for these few hours, I had always admired how I could breathe the freedom of mere minutes while I went to the dorm.

Yet, while admiring the ink black sky, the conversation I had with the call service guy resonated in my head, I laughed at how weird it was, pouring all that I’ve bottled up till now to someone who was of no significance to me. He probably won’t even remember we had this conversation, only passing it on as his first service call. He was also only doing his job, simply being there for me to talk. Why was I even taking this seriously? I could never rest. I could never take a break. I always had moments like these to treasure at heart before I awaken to everything going full speed yet again.

I walked to the lecture hall, watching students happily walking on campus with their friends with the sky a mix of blue and white. It was a regular day. Hopefully, if I didn’t have any assignment and I could focus on studying.

Just then, a whole ton of screaming could be heard, but it was muffled and drowned out due to how far I was from the source. But it sounded horrendous. As if a boy band had just entered the campus and send billions of fangirls to their way. I wanted to continue walking but the squeals of excitement got louder and closer to me. I turned my head to the back. “Ah... why didn’t I think about that?”

There’s the group of guys again. Too popular for their own good. Everyone was shouting their names, swooning over each one of them. I wonder how they didn’t find having to deal with that annoying. Or perhaps it was just an act. I backed away from the hallway to watch them strut by casually, the group of girls following closely behind. But just then, for a brief moment, a guy wearing a black adidas jacket walked past me, mutttering “I really shouldn’t have followed you guys today.” He rolled his eyes and went out of sight. I turned my head to the right, where I could now see his back. He looked petite yet lean, with orange hair of a natural tone, the under part of it being black. What stood out to me the most was his adidas jacket. Wasn’t that the one from the library?

“Do you guys actually go through that every single day?” Jisung groaned out finally taking a breath of fresh air as they entered the room, feeling as if he got swallowed by all the attention throughout their trip to the playroom. Mark picked up a basketball from the side and began bouncing it casually to the couch where the rest were getting settled. “Today’s especially crazy because it’s our group’s anniversary.” Jisung gave an unimpressed look. “Do you think I don’t know that?” He shrugged in a blasé, god-could-care sort of way.

“How’s your call service thing going? We know it’s was your doing. My timeline’s blowing up about it this whole time.” Jeno questioned. Jisung sat at the corner of the couch. placing his forearm on the armrest and leaning his body to it. “Funny how it’s all girls and they all talked about how they couldn’t get you guys to notice them. It always had something to do with one of you.” Jisung laughed carelessly, remembering back the calls he’d been receiving throughout today. Jisung tried his best to suppress his laughter to not sound rude. Even if Jisung found it ridiculous, he wasn’t in the place to say anything about it. His call service was meant for him to console the people who called, no matter the situation he was being told.

However, another thought that came to focus was the call that he specifically had late in the night. It was his first call. And whoever that girl was, she certainly made an impression on Jisung. How she was letting it all out, being free enough to tell someone like him about such deep feelings. It was raw and transparent. The conversation never left his mind. Jisung zinged back to attention when he heard Haechan scoff loudly. He turned to him, seeing him leaned back, shoulders and back relaxed and cool while he had his weight placed on his leg and his arms folded. He then clicked his tongue and said, “Not surprised.” nonchalantly, clearly showing that he was already used to the large amount of girls swooning over him through his voice.

“So are you guys free tonight? We could take a break and hang out.” Everyone nodded their heads followed by hums filling the room signaling that everyone agreed, except for Jisung. “Jisung, you in?” Renjun asked. Jisung took in a deep breath, glancing sideways and giving it a thought. He slowly shook his head. “Why? Are you busy?” Chenle asked quizzically. “Have an assignment.” Jisung blurted out, though he had other reasons.

The rest planned to head out together after spending time in the playroom. Jisung was left in his dorm, pacing back and forth from one end of his room to the other, eyes looking to his phone each time to turned. What was he waiting for? He wanted to ask himself, as if he didn’t already knew the answer. He was so drawn in to her. The way she spoke, the honesty in her voice. It’s as if he didn’t even need to look at her to know how she was moving and what she was doing.

Jisung scratched his head furiously and on the edge of his bed heavily, grabbing his phone and letting it sit in hand loosely. “She wouldn’t call again, would she? But I did imply that she could meet me if she wanted to. She might not even call again.” Jisung muttered to himself constantly, hopping from one possibility to another, raising his hopes up and bringing them back down. Jisung groaned loudly in frustration.

“Why am I even...” Jisung threw his phone to his bed and stood up again with a grunt, wanting to resume his assignment that was almost finished. All it took was one call to have him this tangled and have his mind wrapped around a simple phone call. Worst part is he didn’t even knew if he could ever see her. He could only depend on his chances and luck that she’d want to contact him again.

This time I decided to study in my dorm, too lazy to go down to the library. It wasn’t the best environment to study. My bed was literally mere inches away from my study table, constantly wanting to pull me into throwing myself on it and shut out each time I looked at it. It was a bad decision to have my room planned out like that, but I was too lazy to move it. I tapped the end of my pen against the table rapidly, my mind going black as I simply stared at a random spot on the wall. I wasn’t having the adrenaline to do my work today. I was simply doing it for the sake of doing it, not having a clear goal.

I turned to my phone, being a remembrance of my call with the service guy. I had thought about it the whole day, whether I should give him a call. But I was overthinking it. What if he’s busy? What if he had other people’s call to deal with? All sorts of questions popped up, but after giving it a long thought, I flipped my phone screen faced down harshly, shaking my head vigorously and tensing my hands on my scalp.

“Concentrate.” I stated out boldly to myself right smack in the face. I repeated the same word as I got ready to resume my studying. I couldn’t be thinking about a mere call. It was just a call. One time I let out my now spilled out feelings. I was empty now, so there shouldn’t be a need for another call. I could continue what I always did.

Jisung’s friends had been realising how he’s been zoning out more often than usual. And he wasn’t as outwardly as he had always been. They pampered him a lot and treated him like their own child. But there was something that made Jisung feel different around them. Jaemin nudged Jisung in the elbow, making him jolt to sit up right in shock and shooting his head to Jaemin. “Huh?” Jisung let out.

“Have you been okay lately? You seem to have something on your mind often.” Jaemin asked, his eyes scanning the room and seeing the rest of their friends minding their own businesses. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. “You sure?” Jisung puffed up his cheeks and let the air out through a sigh. “You know my call service?” Jisung began, he knew Jaemin would recognise the slightest change in Jisung’s behaviour. Everyone did, that was how much they cared about him. But Jaemin was the first one to bring it up so might as well. Everyone will know eventually.

Jaemin hummed in response. “My first call. It was very late into the night when. It’s a girl. And hers, was different than the rest I’ve received. As she talked, I felt that she was hiding nothing from me. That she was letting it all out for me to hear, not caring about who I was.” Jisung whispered. “I felt her desperation, her cries of help. Though she said she’ll manage it somehow, I got the feeling that she wouldn’t be able to. That she’ll crumble the more she continued.” Jaemin nodded his head slowly, processing Jisung’s words. “And so?”

“I mentioned to her that if she ever needed a call, she could do so. Or better if we meet. But she never called. And I don’t know who she is, which is what’s been on my mind. The frustration that she made such an impact yet I haven’t found out who she is.” Jaemin puckered his lips and looked upwards thoughtfully. “Did she mention anything about herself? Her major, or anything?” Jisung recalled their conversation that was etched in his mind. Jisung frowned and shook his head.

“What time did she call?” “One or two in the morning?” Jaemin gasped in disgust. “Who the hell-”

“Law and psychology students.” Jeno suddenly came into the conversation seamlessly and casually. Jisung leaned back and raised brows. “Really?” Jisung asked. Jeno scoffed and nodded. “They have tons of shit to study. From what Jaehyun tells me, they’re always staying up super late going through papers.” Jeno imitated a gag and a shiver in objection. “I could never.” He added.

“There’s so many students in those majors. How am I going to find her?” Jeno arched a questioning brow. “Find who?” Jisung sighed and motioned a hand to Jeno while looking at Jaemin, raising his brows for a moment. Jaemin waved a hand at Jeno when Jisung dropped his hand on his lap. “I’ll tell you guys later.” With that, Jeno shrugged mindlessly and went off. Jaemin adverted his attention back to Jisung, who looked even more discouraged than before.

“My poor baby. Listen, I’m sure you made an impression just like how she did on you. If she doesn’t call again, who knows. She might try finding you instead of giving you a call. Or you can just pray and gamble your luck. If you want, I’ll help you find her. You know my connections always come in handy.” Jaemin flashed a reassuring smile that Jisung didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, though it was smaller. “I’ll figure something out.” Jisung muttered, clicking his tongue.

I didn’t want to do this at first, but it kept bugging me the whole day, as if it was something that just had to be done by occupying my mind for almost the whole day. I walked out of the lecture hall, head scanning across the campus with my eyes wide open and attentive to find him.

From what I remembered, he said he was a performing arts major. And the only person I knew in that major was the one and only Ten, who I always saw lurking around the cafés on campus while I made my way back to the dorm. Luckily, I saw him sitting on a bench outside one of the cafés, munching on something while he played his phone. I instantly ran up to him, feeling a sense of hope rising while I accidentally poked Ten in the arm too hard to get his attention, causing him to wince. He looked up and recognised me, instantly flashing a welcoming smile.

“Oh, hey!” Ten shouted, his eyes forming a thin line while he waved at me with his chocolate croissant in hand. “Can I ask something briefly and perhaps even do me a favour?” I asked, slow and nervous with uncertainty. Ten raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Mm sure.” He simply replied. I exhaled and looked him in the eye. “I’m assuming you’re having your break now. Would it be possible for you to take me to your practice room? I know it’s random but I have something I need to check.”

Ten didn’t reply for a long minute, probably wondering why such a vague request came out from someone who would most likely have her time occupied almost 24/7. After waiting in anticipation, he finally shrugged and rose from the bench with a grunt. He proceeded to stretch his back, turning side to side and sighing in satisfaction. “Alright. I can take you there now.” With that, he went forward down the hall, walking as if leaving me behind. I stared at his back for a moment before quickly moving up to meet his pace.

We didn’t talk on the way there. Luckily I didn’t have to worry about us being awkward since the walk from the cafés to the practice room was only a few minutes. I was looking around when I almost bumped into Ten due to his sudden stop of motion and turning to face a door. I peeked inside and I could already see the full wall mirror that I saw dancers usually use. I turned to Ten, who jerked his head to the door, motioning me to open and enter the room.

The moment I placed my hand on the door handle, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness in me, wondering if I would even find him since I have zero idea on how he looked like. The only evidence I had was the fact that I saw someone wearing an adidas jacket who I assumed to be the one I was looking for. But that was such an unreliable assumption that I knew I couldn’t fully trust, but still try to find a way to use it to my advantage either way.

I pushed the door open, instantly bombarded with hard stomps coming from the people dancing. I felt the floor shake tremendously from the intimidating impact that created. The music was blasting from the speaker in front of them, along with a bottle which I assumed to be marked as the center of the stage. I watched silently, feeling Ten’s presence behind. With a glance over my shoulder, I could tell he was eyeing the performance with much concentration and intensity, eyes squinting as if analysing each and every one of their movements to a T.

I brought my focus back on them. It didn’t take my eyes long for it to focus on one person. The adidas jacket guy. One guy was wearing it. He was also wearing a black cap, blonde hair poking out from the bottom. His figure was small yet attractively lean. I couldn’t see his face at all. Yet, I was so drawn to him. Not just because he could’ve been the one I was looking for, but the fact that his dance was engaging, and nothing compared to the rest.

They got to a moment where everyone exited and it was just him alone in the center of the room while others waited by the sidelines. My mouth gaped open slightly, watching him go. His movements are seemingly perfect, every part of his body moving fluidly like water yet intricate and hard hitting. It was impactful, loud. He stood out, and I could picture the whole room going dark with a single light shining on him, and only him. I could tell he was expressing himself and giving his all. I didn’t need to have background knowledge on dance to see that in him.

The dance lasted for about five minutes, and I had my eyes locked on Adidas Jacket guy the whole time, too immersed to the point where I didn’t even feel Ten poking my shoulder. “_____?” He called out, making me blink my eyes rapidly upon hearing his voice and turning my head around. “Yeah?” Ten ruffled his hair. “They’re done. You can check whatever you need to check now.” I let out a soft, “Um...” while turning my head back to the front, eyes glazing over the room and looking for Adidas Jacket. I stood there frozen, not exactly sure what I even wanted to do in the first place.

I turned around fully to face Ten, adjusting my tote bag. “Actually, I think I’m good. I’ll go now. See you around?” It was more of a greeting than a question. But either way, Ten downshifted his head and moved his body out of my way to the door. “You too. Come more often if you’d like.” Ten smiled kindly. I simply reciprocated back the smile and walked out, not saying anything about Ten’s last comment.

At the dorm, I had my arms and legs spread out while I laid on my bed, blankly staring at the plain white ceiling while I tried to connect the dots, or even just simply having everything laid and mapped out in my mind. How was I even sure that could be him? His physique seemed to be similar from what I remembered, the jacket was another clue too. But how could I confirm it? I have yet to check the time the moment I came back, and I already knew hours had gone by.

“Who even are you?” I asked to the ceiling, directing it to the mysterious call service guy who had my mind hung up in him and having my busy life off balance.

“Who are you?” Jisung questioned silently, though it was loud enough that Renjun had to peek his head over the bunk bed to look at Jisung who was below. “What are you talking about?” Renjun asked. Jisung turned his head to the side, showing Renjun his side profile and closing his eyes with a quiet sigh. “It’s nothing.” Renjun shrugged and headed back to sleep.

Jisung had his mind on her the entire time, who could she be, how he could find her, and even where to start? He knew nothing about her. And that’s the thing. He didn’t know exactly what was making him think about her so much, it was just their call in general. He had zero information on her. And if what Jeno said was true, then he was probably thinking about going through such extend with his idea to get even a glimpse of her.

That very day once he ended his dance practice which was around evening with the sun beginning to shine brightly, he went to the library. What was his plan exactly? He wanted to wait in the library till he could find her. But how would he even know? He didn’t even know why he was doing this in the first place. He was simply placing his bet on faith and praying that the hours he was about to spend in the most dreadful place ever would not go to waste.

Not knowing what to do, he ended up huddled in a corner of the library, using the bookshelves on both sides of him to lean back and rest his head. He hated being in libraries, he hated anything to do with academics, which was why he chose to pursue his passion for dance. Though there was still dance theory, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. But being surrounded by books that offered him no information he wanted to know about had him feeling dizzy and bored to death.

He checked the time on his phone, eyes widening at how late it was. He felt his stomach squeezing, a low grumble coming from it while desperately asking for food to enter his system. He face suddenly lit up, remembering how he had leftover bread from the bread store he dropped by during his break. He instantly took it out and ate, watching the sun come down through the windows and turning the sky from blazing red to ink black, welcoming the night with the moonlight shining in.

He has yet to notice anyone that caught his eye. He started to think that he could have possibly missed his chance. What if she was here but left when Jisung had his guard down? What if she wasn’t even here to begin with? Should he just leave and not waste more time? Jisung was desperately holding onto his last string of hope, that was already fraying and could snap in a matter of seconds. Too tired of staying in one place, he decided to take a walk around the library.

Jisung went to the study area, the spot where he stood from gave him a clear view of everyone in their seats. Fair enough, there were students who looked like they were about to stay the whole night here, which made Jisung sniffled in disgust. How could anyone even put up with that much studying?

He was roaming and scanning his eyes lazily over the books tucked neatly and tightly on the shelves, taking long strides while he walked. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his hand. He brought it up in front of him, seeing an unknown number displayed. Picking up the call, and he greeted, “Hey! Always at your service. What do you need?” in the most cheerful way he could put out. Though the exaggerated sigh he let out while picking up the call might’ve been heard from the other end.

“Um hey. I don’t think you remembered me but I’m the first one to call. You know uh, stressed out girl? Need a rest day girl?” Jisung widened his eyes at the realisation. It was her. “Uh...” He stammered, quickly bringing his phone down to take a screenshot of her number before placing it back on his ear. “Hey! How have you been? Glad you called again.” Jisung turned around to lean again the bookshelf, arms folded while he looked down.

“It’s been fine.” She replied. Jisung could already feel the uneasiness in her tone, shining through her words. “You aren’t.” Jisung stated outwardly, unintentionally sounding harsh. “Have you taken your rest day?” Jisung asked out of pure curiosity. This was the moment of lucky coincidence, one that he had to make full use of so he wouldn’t let her slip out of his grasp. “Not exactly? I’m at the library again. Had to complete a project.” Jisung’s eyes widened again, this time till his eye ball could’ve fallen out of his eye sockets.

Jisung quickly and hurriedly made his way to the study area, where he last stood. And there she was. He could feel the hairs behind his neck standing upright like soldiers with goosebumps being sent all over his body. She’s the only student there, the orange lamp illuminating the small area surrounding her. Jisung could only see her back unfortunately. Jisung would’ve ran up to her and surprised her. But something in him made him want to just admire her from afar. “You seem to be putting that rest day off? Have it tomorrow. It’s a Friday either way.” Jisung mentioned, eyes narrowing down on her back.

Jisung watched as she sighed and a ran a hand through her hair quickly, somewhat in distress. “Can you force me to?” She whispered, lowering her voice. Jisung blinked his eyes for a moment. “You want me to force you? I don’t want you feeling forced.” She chuckled through the phone, sending a shiver down Jisung’s spine. “I know I won’t do it on my own will. I’m just like that. Like I said before, I’m basically driving myself into insanity trying to keep up with my work. Always grinding, always on the edge. And I can never slip off once.”

I called on impulse. My hands couldn’t keep away from typing in the same number now permanent on the bottom right corner of the table. As I hear him speak on the other end, I weirdly felt safe, and comfort. A sense of calmness. “I’m anxious that if I shut myself from the world from one day, I’ll miss out on a lot, and just stress over it while I try getting everything done to be back on the same level.” I gulped, laughing weakly. “I’m stressing myself for no reason.”

Jisung walked from the back of the bookshelves to shift his angle of sight, attempting to get a better look of her instead of just her back. He managed to get a better view, but the side of her face was covered by her hair as she kept looking down on the table, which only made Jisung frown. “Did you consider about the meet up?” Jisung questioned, peeking his head upwards and standing on his toes, trying everything he can he get a glimpse of her without actually approaching.

“Why do you want to meet me? Hasn’t there been anyone else that called you service? You are required to comfort them too. Why am I so important that you would even want to meet me?” Jisung left a long pause. He never expected such a thought. He didn’t know how to reply either. He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing sideways as he tried to force something out, knowing that she would have already suspected something from the long silence he gave. “If I’m being honest, the other calls were boring. Calls that have only been made once. You’re the only person who called back.” Truthfully, he had many other answers, but he all got blocked out when he narrowed his eyes down at her back.

“So me stressing over my life is much more interesting than the rest? I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jisung let out a soft chuckle, taking note to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t get caught. “Sure. Mm if you would escape to anywhere, where would you go?” She hummed in reply, most probably thinking long and hard. “I would...” She trailed, but it was followed by another longer pause. “Actually, I read about a Japanese term before. It’s ukiyo, the floating world.”

Jisung nodded his head, taking it in. “It when someone being detached from the bothers of life.” She sighed loudly through the phone, but Jisung could hear it clearly from the bookshelves. “I wish I could experience that floating world.” Her words grew into a whisper till it became inaudible at the end. Jisung saw her tilting her head down lower to the table, eventually using her forearm as a rest for her head. “Oh I have an idea.” Jisung replied quickly. “What if I become your so-called Peter Pan? Like, I can take you to Neverland for as long as you need. And that Neverland is just for you. It can be anything you want it to be.” Jisung suggested.

She laughed through the phone, a soft laugh that made Jisung’s already wavered heart skip another beat. “I’d love that.” Suddenly, she pushed her chair back, rising up from her seat. Jisung’s heart began to race, swiftly and silently turning his body to the back of the bookshelf. She was walking to the bookshelves a few rows down where he was at. He pressed himself up against the books in anxiety. “And what if I give you the free will to make Neverland? How would you want it to be? Because I know nothing about having a break.” Jisung heard her footsteps, one foot down followed by a few seconds of silence before placing down the next. It was slow and throwing Jisung off guard, thinking about what he’d do once she began to step close.

“I have two options. I’d either fill it with the things you love, or fill it with things I love and have you explore.” Jisung slid over to the nexy bookshelf ahead in fear, now keeping his voice lower than how it initially was. “I’d rather choose the latter. What do you like doing?” Jisung stared down at the floor. “Dancing, obviously. I like to hang out with my friends. Going out to the pet store just to look at hamsters.” Jisung and her giggled softly after hearing him say the last line.

“Hamsters? That’s cute.” Jisung took awhile to process the next part. He suddenly saw a pair of feet, inches away from his. He instantly shot his head up, seeing her standing in front of him. He tilted his head down a few degrees, realising that she was a lot shorter than him and needed to level the eye contact. For some reason, Jisung’s ribcage began to clench, suffocating his lungs and not letting a single grasp of air into his system as he looked at her. She wasn’t breathing either. The pin drop silence fill the small gap of air between them.

I brought my phone down from my ear, letting my hand fall to my side and my phone loosely hand by my fingers that wrapped around it. I glanced down for a moment before looking back up to him, he was extremely tall. “Wait you’re...” I tried to recall my memory while I took a close look at him, specifically his physique and body structure. It looked exactly like the one that caught my eye back at the practice room. “Were you the one dancing?” I questioned, not sure how to phrase it.

He tilted his head to the side and slowly nodded his head. “Um I’m always dancing?” He replied back with another question. But his head slowly tilted back straight, as if something had dawned on him. “You! Were you the one that came in the practice room that other day?!” He shouted, leaned back in shock as he covered his mouth that immediately gaped open at the realisation. I blinked my eyes rapidly and nodded my head. “Adidas jacket guy. It’s you.” I almost copied his posture entirely as I remembered.

The blonde hair, the thin yet lean body. It all matched. It was him. The cap didn’t give me a clear view before. But now, his face was right in front of me. And he was attractive. He had that baby face. All features of him were stunning and fit perfectly into his small face. He even had the looks to be an idol even, especially with those dance skills. “I’m Jisung. Park Jisung.” He finally introduced himself. In all honesty, I didn’t picture him to look like this while we chatted, his voice was low, and didn’t exactly suit the kind of build he had. “_____.” He hummed in response.

“This is...” Jisung broke his eye contact with me, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck while he breathed out a chuckle. “An unexpected way to meet. How’d you even find me?” I flashed a devious smile. “You weren’t hard to notice. I could hear shuffling right behind me then I heard your voice.” I shook my head. “What were you doing here though?” Jisung stammered, struggling to even form a sentence of reply. He looked like he was hiding the shakiness under his skin. “I thought I could find you by waiting here in the library.”

I squinted my eyes at his answer. So was he trying to find me all this time while I tried to do the same? “You actually waited here for hours?!” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a notch, too shocked when he downshifted his head. Why would he go through such lengths? Did he not think about the factors? Like how I would’ve not even come here in the first place? Or that I’d walk out and he’ll miss his chance? I had all those questions wrapped around my mind, but as much as I wanted to ask, all I could let out was, “So, Peter Pan.” I stated out loud, resuming the conversation we had on the phone.

Jisung smiled. It was a friendly smile. A warm one that embraced the space around them in the coldness of the dark. It also made him look a hundred times more attractive, with his eye smile that looked as if the world got brighter, and with his teeth showing. He kind of resembled a hamster, oddly enough. “Looks like I’m your Peter Pan now.” Jisung clasped his hands behind his back. “And my first order of business is getting you out of whatever hell hole you’re suffering from. And I don’t care what work you have to do. I’m not going to make you do it.” Jisung shook his head furiously, his bright orange-blonde hair swooshing as he did so, making it clear to me that it was extremely as light and fluffy as it looked to be.

“I’ll clear up my day. I have no lessons tomorrow so I’d usually study-” Jisung brought a finger up in front of my face, articulating it from left to right which a frown. “Nope. None of that. Being serious when I say you need a break. I feel like you have mental breakdowns like the one when you first called like once every week.” Jisung said, a soft hint of whining shining through his tone. “Wait do you?”

I bore my eyes into his, face feigned expressionless. “I mean, I had two mental breakdowns so far. That’s not bad, considering how many times I force myself not to.” I folded my arms, taking a step back to place my weight on one leg as I stood nonchalantly. “Yeah. But you still aren’t living your best life.” Jisung bent forward and smiled innocently, with eyes that looked into my soul and read my heart and mind.

“Pack up. You’re not studying anymore. Sleep. And I’ll meet you tomorrow at 2. Wake up at your own time. Don’t force your body into getting out of bed. Hear me?” Jisung began walking away, and I quickly followed, though I was struggling to keep up due to him taking big steps with his long legs. “Fine.” Was all I said, as we made our way to take our stuff from our separate places. We met back at the entrance, Jisung opening the door for me as I downshifted my head in thanks and went out.

“I watched you dance. It was incredible.” I suddenly let out, thinking about what else I could say about it. “It gave me a feeling that I can never pen down in words.” Jisung ruffled his hair and shook his head, adjusting his hair that looked messy. “Really? That’s nice to hear. But I know I can do better. I’m not the best.” When we stepped out of the library, I felt the cold breeze brushing my skin, too cold till I accidentally let out a shiver. “You seemed to be the best one there. I mean, the one that stood out to me the most.” Jisung raised both his brows, as if surprised such a comment came from someone. “Well I’m glad I was able to touch your heart.”

Moments of silence breezed through us like the cold air as we walked down the pathway. I didn’t know where Jisung’s dorm was, but it certainly wouldn’t be at my building. Was he walking actually wanting to walk me back? Either way, the silence wasn’t awkward. Jisung kept humming and nodding his head to the beat playing in his head, shoulders bobbing and making small movements. All I wanted to do was watch and smile. It made my stomach twist a knot, sending butterflies fluttering along while doing so. He would occasionally make eye contact and let out a cute giggle.

“Wait where even is your dorm?” I questioned. Jisung froze for a moment before quickly bringing his focus back on me to answer. “A few blocks down yours.” He simply said, bringing his index finger up to point in front. It was only now that I realised we were already at the entrance of my dorm building. “No wonder I’ve never seen you on campus before.” I muttered, nodding my head. Jisung adjusted the straps of his bag on his shoulders. “I’m not popular. Not like my friends. But at least my major mates know me.” I chuckle and blinked. “Of course they do. You’re talented.” I sighed and looked up to the sky, which was plainly a blank canvas with stars that could only be seen if you squint hard enough.

“I wish I had something to be proud of.” I whispered under my breath. Before Jisung could even say something back, I brought my eyes down from the sky and shook my head. His mouth was already opened and ready to speak, but he didn’t. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? Is there anything I should prepare myself for?” Jisung shrugged with a soft smile. “Nothing. We’ll just do the first thing that pops in my mind. I’m the type to be impromptu.” I hummed, saying goodnight to him one last time before going into the building, not looking back. Yet I felt his eyes glued to me, which only made me self conscious till I was completely out of sight.

One thing’s for sure, I already knew something that was different about us. I didn’t even meet him for long, but I could already tell Jisung was so laid back, relaxed, moving with his day like a breeze, no worries for the world whatsoever. He liked being impromptu, while I always had my days scheduled so meticulously. He seemed to be the complete opposite of me, yet he was still able to have order in his life. Curiosity spurred in me. I was having that urge to know him more, how he was able to live like that, how Jisung, was Jisung.

Funny enough, Jisung didn’t tell me about where to meet. Which was why I chose to seat the bench right outside my dorm building. I didn’t know how long I was waiting. I did follow his advice. I woke up quite late and stayed in bed watching Netflix shows. I took my time to get ready. And I actually went down a little over 2. I had my earphones plugged in, scrolling through Twitter since I had nothing else better to do on my phone. I didn’t have any games on it, or much of any form of entertainment. I never had time for those either.

Out of the blue, I heard something that resembled a buzz of some sort right beside my right ear. I instantly turned my head to it, leaning back and almost falling off the bench as I sent my bottom to the edge, shocked at seeing a drone flying right beside me. It wasn’t just an ordinary drone. It flew closer to me, and I squinted my eyes for closer inspection. There was a camera. It made me jump off the bench and taking steps back. And with each time, the drone flew closer to my face.

“Hey calm down!” I heard for a distance. My eyes adverted to the voice, seeing a small sized Jisung standing far from me. He tiptoed and waved his hand high, the other hand holding the controller of the drone. I could only laugh nervously as he ran up to me. “Good afternoon to you.” Jisung greeted cheerfully with a bright smile. I gulped and forced a casual smile, though I was still weirded out by the drone that was now circling in front of us. “You like me drone? My friend made it actually.” Jisung giggled.

I pursed my lips. “You chose to greet me with that?” I pointed my finger out with skepticism in my tone. “I’m sure you noticed the camera.” Jisung reached out for the drone, and held it in his hands. How can his hands hold something that big with so much ease? Or maybe the drone was small and his hand made it look big. “I was thinking we could record your day. If you were to actually have fun, you’ll have it on tape so you can watch back and remember the fun when you’re going through stressing times.” While Jisung was explaining, I couldn’t help but notice how brightly he was smiling. It was like the one he flashed at the library that night, but this time it was two folds of it, making the effect of butterflies in my stomach fluttering two fold as well.

“You really thought deep...” I whispered, leaning in to examine the drone while he moved it around for me to look at it from different angles. “It’s not so deep. I thought it only made sense for us to record a day like this. It’ll be fun, trust me.” I could only chuckle and stare down at my feet for a moment before looking back to meet his eyes and asking, “So, Peter Pan, where’s our first stop?” Jisung took out his phone and scrolled through it, I took a peek and realised he was on his notes. It had a list and it was labeled “TODO LIST FOR D-DAY” I giggled softly. “You’re making such a big deal out of today. I’m shocked.”

Jisung chuckled and ran a hand through his hair after placing the drone down on the floor. “Mm I like doing things like this. You know like, doing things out of the ordinary. This is certainly one of the time.” I furrowed my eyes at him while he had his on his phone. He probably felt my eyes searing into him, making him lift his eyes up and staring cluelessly. “So I’m out of the ordinary?” I questioned, tilting my head and feigned intimidation.

“What? No, no! I meant the fact that there’s someone who I need to plan a day out for. This kind of things don’t happen everyday.” Jisung leaned back and lifted up both his hands in defence, only making me laugh loudly and shaking my head. “Calm down. I was just teasing. I’m much for weird than I look.” Jisung raised both in eyebrows and jerked his head down to my phone. I blinked my eyes rapidly at his action. “I can already tell. Who has their timetable as their wallpaper?” Jisung faked a gag, which only made me frown as I glanced at my phone. “Nothing’s wrong with that!” I retorted, huffing and walking forward. I barely took a step before Jisung pulled me back.

“Peter Pan hasn’t even tell you the location, dummy.” He flicked my forehead with his finger, making me grimace. “Oh you dare to do that?!” I gaped my mouth open and scoffed in amusement, glancing sideways before retrieving my eyes back to Jisung. “I’m getting back at you!” I growled. “Till you do something that deserves the need to do it.” My voice grew softer with each word and my shoulders bobbed up while my expression turned into an embarrassed one. Jisung laughed out loud, he seemed to be enjoying himself, leaning back and holding his stomach from all the laughter he did for a full moment.

“Till I deserve it? Why are you so uptight?! Come. I’ll let you do it.” Jisung leaned forward, face meeting my level as he closed his eyes and a child-like smile played on his lips. I stared at him for a long moment. And when he didn’t feel any impact, he opened one eye in question. “Come on.” He urged, motioning his hand to his forehead. I chuckled at this, my hand being brought up like it had a mind of its own and flicked Jisung’s forehead with much force. He grimaced, but covered his pain with a sincere laugh the second after. “There aren’t any rules. Do what you want to me, okay? See, I can be your punching bag if you need me to.”

I gave Jisung a disinterested look. “Mm sure. Enough chatting just take me wherever already.” Jisung laughed at my impatience, sliding his phone into hus back pocket and getting himself ready to fly the drone. It flew up and almost went to my face. Luckily my quick reflexes allowed me to avoid it quickly, resulting in Jisung hissing and mumbling, “Sorry.” under his breath. He began to walk forward with me followed closely behind him as he played with the drone and letting it hover around as it recorded us from above.

We were walking quite a distance. I didn’t expect it to be this far. The sound the drone kept making was already imbedded into my memory. We were walking down a street I was completely unfamiliar with and the sun shining brightly above us wasn’t helping at all, only with occasional times when the clouds covered the sun for mere moments before it became blazing hot again. “Where are we even going?” I questioned, taking a look around my surroundings. Jisung finally let the drone come down from the air. He picked it up and motioned his hand with the drone to the building right in front of us. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked up to the building.

“I thought about us enjoying the simple things in life. I didn’t want to take you to any fancy or high end places because well, I have no money for one. But it’s also because if you’re going to do this again, I’d want it to be something affordable. A place you can go to anywhere, anytime.” Jisung shrugged while he explained the reason of choosing this place which I still have yet to know its purpose since I saw no sign that gave me a single clue. “That’s deep.” I simply said. Jisung pursed his lips and nodded his head. “That was unintentionally deep.”

Jisung fiddled with the drone to turn it off and passed it to me for me to hold as he opened the door and gave me way. I downshifted my head and went inside. I looked around. It seemed to be a lobby. There was a small counter at the corner and in front was a deep hallway filled with doors left and right. What was this place? I felt Jisung’s presence behind me as he went to the counter. With a smile, the woman behind gave him a key. He went forward in front of me and tossed the key in the air for it to drop to the floor. I raised a brow at his action. I assumed he tried to expertly catch the keys again but failed to do so. I wanted to face but I kept my neutral expression. Jisung picked it up quickly and turned to flash a soft smile before proceeding to walk. I again followed behind.

While I walked down the hallway, I could hear different music coming from each door. Some rooms were silent while other were blasting music so loud yet muffled due to the door blocking out the music. There weren’t any windows on the door that I could peek into to see what was inside, which only made me more skeptical as I tried figuring out what this place was. Jisung abruptly stopped in front of one door, which was at the very end of the hallway. I almost bumped into him but stopped myself by placing a hand near his shoulder where I would’ve bump into.

Jisung slid the key into the keyhole and fiddled around for a moment for the key twisted and the door opened. Once again he made way for me to head in first. A gentleman, that was another thing about Jisung I took note of. I walked into a pit of darkness till I heard Jisung flip a switch and the lights turned on. I gaped my mouth open in awe and nodded my head slowly as I took unsure steps in. “Is this like...” I tried to form my sentence but I was mesmerised by the blank space of the wooden plank floor and the wall sized mirror that stretched from one end to the other entirely. “Your own dance studio?”

Jisung smiled softly and hummed, standing beside me while we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. “Wait. You aren’t actually telling me to...” I very slowly turned my head up to look at him, realising he already had his eyes on me before I even made eye contact. I brought my index finger up and swirled it around beside me to motion to the the dance studio. “Dance, right?” Jisung didn’t reply, only forming a sly smile for a split second before walking to the side while scrolling through his phone. Music began to play through the speakers from the top corners of the room. He placed his phone down and began moving his body to the beat while making his way back to me.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Jisung smiled brightly and giggled, proceeding to close his eyes and continue grooving to the music being played. It was upbeat and relaxing, not like the ones played at clubs. It was chill and something anyone could move to. Except, I couldn’t. With arms folded and wrapped around my chest, I stared at him with a tilted head. Probably feeling my eyes on him, he fluttered his eyes open and looked at me with an innocent look. “Try dancing!” Jisung shouted, blinking his eyelids rapidly. I only narrowed my eyes in response. Jisung groaned and suddenly brought his hands out to hold my wrist, eventually holding my hands in his.

“You said we can do what I like. And I like dancing. It relieves my stress. I’m sure it’ll have the same effect on you if you actually try.” Jisung begged. He slowly brought my hands up, moving side to side, urging me to follow my lead. I was skeptical. This was never my thing. My body was as stiff as stone when I tried following Jisung. I didn’t know how he was simply so natural and fluid. He wasn’t trying hard at all, unlike me. “Hey.” Jisung suddenly whispered, leaning forward so his face was just mere inches away from mine. My breathing hitched in my throat. “You’re trying too hard. Loosen up. Feel the music.” Jisung’s advise was soothing, whispers that went in my ears and could stay in my mind for ages as he looked into my eyes and searched for the specks of uncertainty that he so desperately want to get rid of.

I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders. With Jisung’s large hands still with mine, Jisung slowly and naturally pulled me closer to him. I composed myself and tried to keep my cool as much as possible, putting my mind at peace and solely focusing on the music. Jisung hummed and tried to move me again. This time, I was slowly able to let my body loose, getting the beat of the song into my head and slowly bobbing my head to it. I couldn’t help but smile as I began to move however I want, being free. “You’re doing it!” Jisung shouted happily, letting go of my hands and allowing our bodies to dance.

I wasn’t looking at the mirror this whole time. But when I did, I grimaced in disgust, leaning back and sticking out my tongue. “Jeez I look so ugly dancing.” I sighed with a frown. Jisung laughed loudly and nodded. “Indeed. But that’s the whole point. No one’s here to judge you. I can be weird with you, if that’s what you want.” Jisung clasped his hands behind him and leaned forward again, flashing his cheeky smile. I scoffed. “Please, how can a great dancer like you dance weirdly? I mean look at you. Everything you do is flawless.” I huffed out, folding my arms.

Another song began to play. This time it was a slow one. Nothing sad or emotional, it felt like a song that was meant to bring yourself back down to earth. “I wasn’t even good last time. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am today.” Jisunv explained carefully, weary so that he wouldn’t sound like he was beinf boastful. Jisung suddenly looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully and after a moment he opened his mouth like a light bulb of thought above his head switched itself on.

Jisung immediately ran to the door, flicking the switch and turning the lights off. It was dark, but some light was still able to shine through from the cracks of the door, making me see Jisung’s figure, but not the details of his face only if I looked close enough. He went back to me and said, “There. With the lights closed, you can do whatever and I won’t see it clearly.” Jisung shrugged triumphantly. I chuckled and nodded my head in agreement.

After that, multiple songs continued to play. His playlist was probably on shuffle mode but they were all songs I could dance to. I could see Jisung and I moving in the mirror. Again, not obvious, but still seen. Out of nowhere, Jisung pulled me in by grabbed my wrist lightly. He pulled me hard till my chest bumped into his. “Sorry.” He whispered, chuckling awkwardly. Jisung was clumsy, yet cute i. his own way. Another feature of his I began to take note of. It took me awhile to realise how close we were. He could probably feel my breath on his skin at this moment.

I looked up from his chest, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, my surroundings blanked. The music drowned out into nothing and the darkness of the room got even darker. And at the same time, Jisung’s face began to be the only thing that was clear to me. I did notice how attractive he was. But this situation was only making it ten times harder for me to handle to emotions that suddenly spurred inside me. My heart was beating fast and my cheat began to clench tightly, giving me no air to breath in as I stood there breathless for a long moment. Jisung didn’t move either, his eyes wandering my face as if looking at every inch.

It was at this moment that got me to think that indeed, I was stress-free. I wasn’t thinking about the pile of books I had to read and analyse. I wasn’t thinking about what was due next week and what my schedule was. All I had my focus on was Jisung and I. The freedom and lightness I was feeling. It was something I never felt for so long. It’s as if I barely knew such a feeling existed. And all it took was doing something that I wasn’t even good at. Doing it with Jisung. It would be too early to say this, but he could very well be the first person that made me feel this way in my whole college life.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Jisung beamed at me as we made our way back to the counter to return the keys. I breathed out a light chuckle and sighed in satisfaction. “Mhm. It was actually... very fun.” I puckered my lips. Jisung went to the counter and leaned forward after placing the key down for the woman to take. He whispered something to her and she nodded her head. She went to the back and Jisung turned around to meet my eyes. “Got a little present for you.” The woman came back with the same key, or perhaps a replica of it. Jisung downshifted his head in thanks and handed me the key. I took it wearily.

I glanced down at it and trailed my eyes back to Jisung. “Why would you give me the key?” I questioned. Jisung took a step in and had his eyes on the key in my hand. He brought his hand up and closed the key in my palm. “I’m giving you access to my most private space ever. That’s because I want you to feel the same way I do whenever I’m in there. Carefree. Effortless. You can go in whenever you want, whenever you need. I don’t have to be there with you all the time. You don’t even have to dance. Just let the atmosphere of the studio calm you. Basically, do whatever. I just want you to be free.”

With each word his voice got heavier with meaning and sincerity imbued, and my heart grew lighter with each breath.

Days go by, and though I didn’t meet Jisung again, he’d occasionally call me late at night to check up on me. And every time I said I was doing work, he’d let out an exaggerated groan and force me to sleep. He sounded like those mothers that keep nagging at you. And with his talkative nature, Jisung and I could go rambling for hours on the phone till one of us sleeps. It’ll mostly be me since I could already drif off to dream land the moment my body hits the bed.

Today, I was feeling trapped in my dorm room. Something in me was feeling the urge for an escape as the walls caved in with every hour passing by. My brain was beginning to slow its gears and I wasn’t able to boost my motivation back up. I glanced to my phone where it showed the time blaring onto my face. “It’s only a ten minute walk.” With a shrug, I dumped everything I wanted to get done by tonight and headed out the door, not giving a single care to look neat and going out in my sweater and sweatpants.

I went into the building, it was dark with only the moonlight from outshine shining in through the glass entrance. I made my way to the dance studio, key in my hand that I already shoved into the pockets of my sweater on my way here due to the cold of the night. I unlocked the door and entered. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead I switched on the small lamplight that Jisung told me he placed there in case I needed it. I silently thank Jisung in my mind as I began to unpack my things.

I took one look around the studio. It was spacious, the plank floors leaving the space wide open just for me. Though I came here to do work, my mind was slowly trailing off to Jisung. His figure slowly appeared, picturing him in my mind as I let his shadows dance in the dark. It was his dance that caught my eye and it was his personality that was making me crave to know him more. I was mesmerised, enchanted by every move he made. Every word he spoke, every clumsy gesture. It was all those things clumped into one that was sucking me in.

I startled out of my thoughts with a quick shake of my head and got to work. Quite a long time had passed by. Jisung was right. The atmosphere of the studio, silent, peaceful, nothing to disturb my serenity. For some reason, I didn’t think twice when I grabbed my phone to call Jisung at this timing. Before I could even press on his contact number, my eyes flickered to the time. 2:30AM. For one moment I thought he��d be asleep. But with remembering about his call service, I knew he’d still be up. My hopes filled me up with I called and placed the phone on speaker phone, placing my phone back down beside me while I continued to write.

Jisung picked up in a matter of seconds. “Hey! How are you?” I smiled softly. No matter the time and place, he never failed to sound cheerful and bursting with energy. It felt as if he was being like that just for me. “Nothing. Just work.” Should not have said that. “What?! It’s two in the damn morning? How are you even- no more studying. Makes me puke every time I hear that.” Jisung feigned a gag and I laughed loudly in response to his disgusted reaction. “I’m almost done, alright? I’m actually at the music room. It’s quite nice being here.” Jisung hummed and I leaned back, placing my hands behind me. “Oh you’re there? Want me to join you?” Jisung’s voice suddenly grew excited. The sudden burst of energy shocked me. How was he able to be so energetic in the dead morning?

“You don’t have to! I was just about to go anyways.” I squinted my eyes and formed a quizzical look on my face. Why did I even say that? I wasn’t even about to leave. “I don’t have classes tomorrow so I can stay up. I know you don’t have any either.” I raised an eyebrow, my eyes going to the screen as I saw Jisung’s name still flashing at me. “What are you even suggesting?” I questioned with a confused tone. Jisung smacked his lips. “Mm to have a night out with you? We didn’t go out for so long.” Jisung cried out. I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly and tilted my head a few degrees at his suggestion.

I leaned forward to my phone, my voice lowering itself to a whisper. “You... actually want that?” I blinked my eyes rapidly, waiting for his answer. Jisung breathed in once and said, “I just said that, didn’t I?” I frowned. “But I want you to rest and-”

“Already out the door!” Jisung ended the call. I sighed. But a smile cracked on my lips at the thought of him coming here.

“What is all this mess?” Jisung complained in disgust. Face scrunched up and nose crinkled at the sight of my books and papers while he helped me to slide it back into my tote bag. He grabbed a stack and placed it on his thigh. Flipping through. I could only see cluelessness in his eyes. “Jeez. This is so not to my liking. Or understanding.” Jisung shrugged and shoved it into the bag, making it the last stack.

Jisung stood up and carried it on his shoulder, instantly crying out as he leaned over to the side where he hung the bag, the weight of it pulling him down. “How do you carry these all day?!” Jisung shouted with utmost shock. I simply shrugged and made my way for the door. “You’d be surprised at how much my shoulder hurts every week.” I said nonchalantly due to the fact it was truly something I’ve gotten used to. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Jisung bringing himself back up and trying to get used to the weight while walking to me. I opened the door and with a kind smile, moved my body aside to give way for him to exit, which he gladly thanked for with a whisper.

“Anyways, there’s a twenty four hour ice cream shop that just opened nearby. Are you in for a treat?” Jisung questioned, looking down at me. I turned my gaze from the floor and to him, glancing sideways for a quick thought before nodding. “Sure.” I simply replied. I could only follow Jisung, once again not knowing where he wanted to take me. I was familiar with the neighbourhood around campus of course. But I’ve been staying at the campus for so long that I never got the chance to find out what was new about it. Such as a new ice cream shop I never knew existed till now.

The walk there was comfortable silence. I took this time to look at Jisung’s outfit. He was wearing his signature black adidas jacket, track pants and a black cap. It felt like it was something unique only to him. A person I could identify instantly with what he wears. I like Jisung in it. It was a lazy look but he somehow managed to pull it off, naturally good looking. My focus trailed down to what I was wearing, and I couldn’t help but think about just how bad I looked at this time of the night.

Jisung once again abruptly stopped. I was able to dodge him this time and stand beside him. He looked inside the shop while I had my eyes on the sign that said they were open. “They actually do open twenty four seven.” I muttered, instantly realising that Jisung had already entered the shop when I heard the sound of the bells above the door ringing, the door swinging open. I quickly caught up to the door, making it just in time before it closed fully and entered.

I stood beside Jisung, the two of us scanning through the menu above the counter. “Is this your first time here?” I asked. Jisung bobbed his shoulders. “It is. You?” I shook my head. “I didn’t have time to be going out and trying out food that the neighbourhood has to offer. I stick to the food on campus most of the time.” Jisung scoffed softly and turned to me. “Which is practically convenience store food. How boring of you.” My jaw dropped and I breathed out an unbelievable chuckle, punching his shoulder gently. “And how rude of you to say that.” I feigned exasperation and looked up to the menu again after the two of us laughed softly.

I was the first to walk up to the counter, Jisung quickly following behind as I felt his presence being awfully close to my back. “Can I get three scoops of chocolate chip cookie?” The woman at the cashier nodded and turned her attention from me to Jisung. “You?” She questioned. I turned my head to him as well. Jisung squinted his eyes while he looked up to the menu again. He stuttered for a moment before responding. “I’ll just get two scoops of strawberry swirl.” The woman cracked a small smile, almost invisible as she keyed in our order. She told the price and looked at the two of us, waiting for the cash. When Jisung didn’t respond, I quickly took out my wallet. I glanced at hi for a brief moment, noticing that he was looking at me and didn’t hear the cashier. But before I could even slide out my dollar note, Jisung slammed my hand down lightly and took out his money in one swift motion.

“Thanks.” I softly whispered as the two of us walked to the side t wait for our ice cream. I folded my arms and placed my weight on one leg. Jisung sighed loudly, assumingly to break the silence between us. “Three scoops? That’s a lot.” Jisung mentioned. I frowned and waved a lazy hand at him. “Calm down I’ll pay for the three scoops. I’m just craving for it.” I breathed out, now feeling slightly bad that I spent a lot of Jisung’s money since the price was quite expensive. Jisung looked down on me, quirking up a questioning brow. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying it’s a lot. You don’t need to pay me.” Jisung quickly retorted with assurance imbued into his tone.

My mouth formed an ‘O’ at the realisation and slowly nodded my head. “We can’t be eating here, right? So where are we going to go?” Jisung ruffled his hair, adjusting the strands that laid naturally and nicely down his forehead. I was still able to see his eyes despite having it covered by the layer of hair. “Our spot.” I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Our spot?” I echoed back, completely clueless. 

Jisung flashed me a disappointed expression along with a sigh. “The studio. That, or we can just eat at the park nearby. Oh and don’t expect me to protect you if we get kidnapped. I won’t be strong enough to protect you.” I laughed at the joke, Jisung chuckling along with me. “You dance with such energy and you’re telling me you can’t beat a kidnapper?” I scoffed loudly in amusement. “You’re quite something.” I added on. Jisung looked down, somewhat in a shy manner and smiled before lifting his head back up. “I really am.” 

-Just how much was I missing out on

We walked out, ice cream in hand. Jisung seemed to be texting someone with his free hand while I simply looked down on my ice cream and be the first to dig in. The bite felt like a trip down memory lane. How was it that I didn’t enjoy simple things like ice cream during college? Don’t get me wrong I do still eat ice cream, but I never experienced one that tasted authentic, way better than the ones sold in convenience stores. “You seem to be enjoying it.” Jisung suddenly let out, making me head shot up to him and then to my ice cream, which I already noticed that I took more than just one bite already. 

Jisung slid his phone into his track pants and got to eating. His jaw dropped and his mouth hung open so wide that it could reach the floor. With the ice cream nestled on the surface of his tongue, he gasped loudly and looked to me instantly. “This is so good!” Jisung squealed with much happiness and excitement, taking another bite instantly and moaning in satisfaction. The two fo us ate in silence as we walked, allowing ourselves to sink into the ice cream’s captivating flavours like a bath. 

We entered the park. It was dimly lit, with only the lamps that lined the pathways and lighting the place with an orange hue. Jisung took quick steps forward to sit on the nearest bench. I sat down beside him, a small smile forming on my lips. All that we could see were the lights and trees that had its leaves and branches swaying in the gentle breeze. Jisung had his full attention on his ice cream, ow seeming to be taking small bites to preserve the ice cream and take a longer time to finish it. 

“One question. How long have you not come to this park? Or have you never?” Jisung’s question got my mind blank. I thought about it for quite some time, till Jisung had to hum to see if he even got my attention. “The only time I’ve been here was two years ago. For helping out at an event as a job.” Jisung moved his lips to one side. “Question two. Was majoring in law what you wanted to do?” I already knew this conversation was about to get deep. And at that moment, if I’m being really honest, I’m glad Jisung’s the one I’m having this conversation with.

“Yeah. At first I thought lawyers looked cool in those Korean dramas. My only goal at that time was to do any major that I seemed to be interested in and one that could get me rich. Those were my only two requirements that satisfied me. I was always hardworking but I never knew my work could get this overloaded. I wasn’t ready for it.” I took in a deep breath to compose myself, realising how real I was getting about myself. “I only started having breakdowns at the end of last year. Never bothered to take a break due to constant anxiety on how much I could miss out on. All because I want that simple goal of doing well in college for a job that’ll give me good pay. I didn’t even think about what I’d do with the money. I never bothered to expand my goal beyond that. And I think that makes me very low, and shallow minded.” 

I slowly tited my head up, wanting the cool air to cool my face. The sky was nothing but plain ink black darkness with only the small moon shining it’s moonlight on us. I closed my eyes, not really caring if Jisung responded to anything I just said. Letting it out for him to hear was all I wanted, all that I need. I kept my breathing steady and collected, the simple calmness of the quiet surrounding putting my mind at ease. “But have you ever thought that you don’t need to keep up with whatever’s around you?” Jisung whispered. I fluttered my eyelids open and brought my eyes down to meet his. We locked eyes, and Jisung reached out in front of me to grab my now empty cup, making my breath hitched in my throat. He always made me stop breathing whenever he got close. What was he, death?

“What do you mean?” Jisung puckered his lips, seeming to be deep in thought before replying. “I get that you want to do well. But you don’t always have to go at the speed this world’s at. It’s not always in the hustle.” Jisung whispered carefully. His eyes never met mine. And with each word and every one that was going to come after, could drive it’s words deep into my heart and soul, like he was seeing right through me. “Look around you. This place, the studio. You would’ve never discovered them if you were so focused. Slow down to see the prettier things in life. Isn’t that what they always say?” HIs words were definitely meant to bring an impact. And it did. My heart sank, not in a bad way. But simply because the realisation and reality was weighting my heart down. 

“Technically, you introduced me to the studio and park.” Jisung brought his hand out, as if putting his words on it and placing it in front of me. “Exactly. You wouldn’t even get to know me if you never took time to look at your surroundings and finding my note.” I licked my bottom lip that was extremely dry. My eyes absentmindedly went down to his lips, that still looked unbelievably smooth despite the dryness of the air. “I told you, didn’t I? I can be here for you. Whatever you need. So don’t always think college is everything. I mean, look at me.” I chuckled. 

But Jisung was right. I did took time to look at him as a person. He was doing something that wasn’t just interest, but what he loved and had passion for. He’s able to do well and not have to stress over things too much and too often. Jisung was able to carry himself how he wants to and be satisfied with life when I would be satisfied with mine long years down the road. He was the physical representation of ukiyo. The floating world that didn’t bother about the worries of life, and living it his own way, no matter what could appen to him. He was a ukiyo standalone. 

“Slow down to see the prettier things the life.”

Jisung might just be that prettier thing.

Jisung and I got close, real quick. It wasn’t a surprise. I already knew I’d want to meet him more often, wanting him to be my escape from the whirlpool of life. He was always a breath of fresh air, a sight for sore eyes. He never failed to make the time I spent with him meaningful to the last second. I quickly grew to realise that I needed to meet him on a regular basis. I needed to take my mind off work, and he was the only one who could do it for me.

I was just finishing lecture, carrying the heavy pounds of books in my hand with much struggle. I was trying to juggle my book on my forearm while the other tried to find for my phone in my pocket to text Jisung, saying I wanted him to come over to accompany me. With a quiet grunt I tried to type with one hand, which to me was an extreme struggle. Just when I decided to stop walking to get myself gathered together, I looked up from my phone, suddenly seeing a group of guys walking just past me.

Murmurs and whispers from different angles could be heard from far away, I raised my brow, watching their backs. One that caught my eye was the adidas jacket. I knew instantly from his figure and bright orange natural looking hair that it was Jisung. I instantly ran up to him, shoving my phone into my bag to just I could have a free hand to tap on his shoulder. “Jisung!” I screamed happily, after giving him a tap I placed a firm grip on his shoulder to stop him. The other guys surrounding him turned around, noticing how Jisung abruptly stopped.

“Who’s she?” One of them asked, his voice sounding arrogant and cocky from the get-go. Jisung gulped and looked left and right, glancing over his shoulder. He suddenly seemed anxious. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly, sucking in his lips while he rubbed a nervous hand at the back of his neck. “I-I don’t know.” Jisung quickly replied. He stared at me for a moment, eyes cold and would probably feel like ice if I were to maintain it any longer. Jisung shoved away the hand I had on his shoulder roughly, only making me scoff loudly. “What the heck? Jisung you good?” I was about to reach my hand to punch him lightly on the shoulder, thinking that the way he’s acting was just a joke, but with him having quick reflexes, he got a firm grip on my wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Look. I don’t know you. Why are you treating me like you’re my friend?” Jisung’s words were meant to slice. And it worked. I was in disbelief, the large wave crashing over me and wiping me out and the words rolled hard on his tongue. Jisung slammed my wrist down, my whole arm swinging backward slightly from the strong impact before it fell down my side. I looked to my hand and trailed my gaze back to Jisung. I stiffened, trying not to shiver under his gaze. What was going on with him? Another friend of his placed a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head forward. Jisung pushed me off with his cold gaze one more time and turned around sharply to walk away. I gaped, eyes widened as the other looked to each with unsure faces and disappeared along with Jisung.

I stumbled a few steps back from Jisung’s impact. The impact in his words, actions. Why was he like that? He said he didn’t know me. I took a moment to head over to a nearby bench to place my books down and have a break, but it was mostly to think over about why Jisung suddenly acted different. He never seemed like that before. He looked... cold and unapproachable. That look in his eyes when he made eye contact with me, it felt as if he never knew me at all. What was with that sudden shield?

Later that day, I tried to text Jisung. Give him a call, sending multiple texts. He wasn’t responding to any of it. He used to always be free 24/7. Why was he suddenly not online, especially after what had just happened. I wanted to know why. This was the first time he ever acted like that towards me. And it was too odd. We would never meet too often. But without him texting me at least once a day, you could say I was falling apart again when he began to not get into contact with me for a whole week after the incident.

I tried to find him again. Seeing him on campus whenever, I tried to approach him. This time I walked up to him quickly and had a firm grip on his wrist. “Jisung? What’s wrong with you the other day? You acted as if you didn’t even know me.” I said with a nervous chuckle, wanting to seem like it didn’t bother but failed tremendously. Jisung looked at me blankly, expressionless. Like nothing went through his mind with that I said. Or even looking at me. Jisung bit his lower lip, glancing sideways as if he didn’t want to give a single care about my presence.

He slid my grip off his wrist. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.” Jisung said in a monotonous manner. He glanced to his left and right quickly, eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. And in that small second of eye contact, I felt something. His eyes looked sad, like he was feeling sorry. But that look disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Jisung was out of sight once again.

I was in bed, eyes up to the plain white ceiling that gave me the free will to think about anything. Anything and everything, but it all lead to Jisung. I simply couldn’t shake it off. The way Jisung looked at me. I felt the impact of his push so vividly. I kept replaying the scene in my mind. It was just so not Jisung. It was so off from what he’s like. It seemed like it wasn’t Jisung at all. I turned to my side, phone right beside my face. I picked it up, instantly going to my contacts and clicking on Jisung’s name.

“What’s going on with you...” I said in a soft whisper, my mind trailing off yet again as I stared at Jisung’s name on my screen, so bright and so big. Yet it suddenly felt distant. Jisung, felt distant. A long while had past, and I still contemplated on whether to give him a call. I gave up doing so a few days back. Why did I still have hope? He didn’t seem to want anything to do with me. And I knew it wasn’t because he’s busy. He didn’t want to contact me. He’s ignoring me.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, slow and steady to calm my mind. I was beginning to jump to conclusions. And I really would never want to have that perception of Jisung. Never once thought of him that way, and never will. I would never. I groaned out loud, turning off my phone and placing it back down beside me harshly with the screen faced down. I curled myself up into a ball. It had only been a week. And I was already missing him. His voice, his clumsiness, his cuteness. The sudden change of his attitude, to the whole ignoring and growing distant thing. It was too much. Again I was falling, cracking at places where it got pieced together when I was with Jisung.

Unable to sit still, I got up and walked to my study table, slamming my body down and beginning to do work. I furiously began writing, doing whatever I can to suppress myself. I was growing mad, and if I had to let out my anger, I’d be doing it in the productive way. However, I was only able to keep that adrenaline up for a few minutes till I got to frustrated that I threw my pen on the wall in front of my and balled fists into my hair, screaming till my voice disappeared. I shut up eyes close, allowing the tears that had been welling up this whole time to finally fall, sending myself into a breakdown.

I cried and shouted with all my heart. I couldn’t beat it. I couldn’t do anything without Jisung. I didn’t know what to feel. Anger, rational, disappointment. Perhaps it was all those balled into one emotion I didn’t know the name of. I shook my head vigorously, running a hand through my hair and slamming both hands down on the table, wanting to swallow down my flood of emotions. I can’t be going through this. I had work to do. Jisung’s a waste of my time, and my energy. My feelings for him will not stop me from moving forward. I knew I shouldn’t have met him. He led me to this, to suffering even more on top of my large pile of other stresses I had to handle. He was once my ukiyo, but how he’s far from being one.

“I can’t fucking keep doing this!” Jisung screamed, pacing back and forth in his dorm. Luckily Renjun wasn’t here to hear his rant. He’d been stressed out about it for weeks. It’s almost been a few months. He couldn’t keep this up. He was this close to showing his anger if his friends were to ever hung out with him again. Jisung had one arm wrapped around his torso while the other rested and had his thumb grazing over his bottom lip. He was missing her. He wanted to see her. But he couldn’t. Not when his friends are around 24/7.

At the party later that night, Jisung had no mood for any of it. Not the drinking, not the games. He was at this stupid party just because his friends dragged him. Although he never said no to the offer. Jisung simply went with it to satisfy his friends. He was sick of the people around him reeking of alcohol, people bumping into him every which way, the loud music that could possibly bloa his eardrums. Just how many of these parties had he been to already? And he still couldn’t get used to this.

Jisung was standing by the drinks area, watching his friends on the couch and getting wasted. They’re finding their own way home somehow. Jisung knew they were capable, so there wasn’t any reason why he had to take care of them. He seemed to be so fixated on one spot that he didn’t even realise Jeno was standing beside him after he let out a, “You seem to be having fun.” Jisung came zinging back to reality. “Yeah.”

“I know you aren’t.” Jeno gulped down the red cup and placed it down on the table behind them. He leaned back casually, eyeing Jisung which intimidated Jisung just a little bit. “What’s been going on with you?” Jeno leaned his head forward and closer to Jisung, making sure his words could be heard over the loud music. “Nothing.” Jeno scoffed. “It can’t be nothing.”

Jisung turned his head to face Jeno, flashing him a look that read, “I really don’t care.” Jeno smacked his lips and folded his arms. “I’m the closest one to you. Even though they all treat you like you’re our own baby, I’m the one that knows you best. So spill. There’s no hiding from me.” Jisung groaned out loudly and grabbed Jeno’s wrist, pulling him to a room closed and isolated from this mess Jisung simply hated.

Jisung went in and slammed himself onto the bed, sitting on the edge while Jeno raised both his eyebrows in shock at the little man’a temper, closing the door behind him slowly as the music finally got drowned out. “So?” Jeno began, leaning against the door and placing one leg over the other. Jisung threaded his fingers through his hair, keeping his hand at the back of his head as he tilted upwards to find a way to say his feelings, as if the words were out there for him on the ceiling.

“I have this girl I like. We’ve been hanging out for a long while. But we stopped because one day I decided to be a prick and push her off when she saw me with the rest of us.” Jeno opened his mouth and clapped his hand once. “It’s that girl isn’t it?!” Jeno pointed at Jisung with surprise. Jisung wasn’t exactly sure if Jeno and Jisung were thinking of the same girl, but either way Jisung simply nodded.

“I don’t know why I did it in the first place. I guess I was embarrassed of you guys knowing her and you’ll keep bugging me about it all the time if you knew.” Jisung groaned out, the frustration expertly imbued into his tone though it took no effort to do so. Jeno narrowed his eyes on Jisung, a look that made him know that a long lecture was about to come for him. And he couldn’t escape.

As Jeno pushed his back off the door and walked forward, he said, “So what? You didn’t want us knowing you have a girl you like because you think we’ll invade your privacy? If you want to know, most of us guessed it already. You kept going out at such late hours almost all the time. Did you think Renjun wouldn’t have noticed?” Jeno tilted his head, making sure it was extremely obvious. “That’s why we were shocked when you did that to her.” Jeno added on. Jeno squinted his eyes and blinked them rapidly. “Then why don’t you just explain it to her?”

Jisung frowned, head slowly tilting down to cover his face. “Because I felt bad for doing it and thought she’d be mad at me and wouldn’t want to talk to me again.” Jisung sighed loudly for three days. “I didn’t-” Jisung inhaled deeply. “I didn’t want to face her because I didn’t want to feel the pain of having her get mad at me.” Jeno chuckled, the kind that was in disbelief. “Jisung! You don’t even know if she felt that way!” Jeno slammed a palm to his forehead. “Yes she’d be mad but you should be making the first move to apologise to her! She’s probably crying in bed wondering why you suddenly cut off all ties with her, you dummy!”

While Jeno was giving him an earful, Jisung fiddled with this thumbs, scarping at the hang nails and growing deep in thought. Jeno was right. Why didn’t he do anything to solve it? He simply backed off because he was too afraid to face her after what happened. He was caring for his own feelings more than hers. And now she’s definitely in a way worsr position than he was. “Fuck I’m dumb.” Jeno hummed in agreement, only making Jisung shoot a glare at him while letting out a ‘tsk’.

“Might be too late but talk to her. Right now she needs an explanation. No matter how long ago it was.” Jeno had his voice firm and advisory.

Jisung made his way to her dorm. He had a sinking, anxious feeling in his chest while he walked down the hallway and inched closer to her door.

I was at my table, still studying the life out of me. I knew I’d be walking out of this dorm brain drained and walking like a living corpse when I go for my lecture tomorrow. Just when I wanted to rest my head down, there was a knock on the door. I thought I misheard, but after a long moment the knocking came again. I quickly walked up to the door, swinging it open. Everything paused. My motion, my eyes. It was glued to the person in front of me, which was Jisung.

“Can I come-” “I have work to do.”

I tried to close the door, but Jisung stopped it with his foot. “Please. I owe you an explanation.” Jisung said, voice filled with softness and sincerity. I couldn’t bear to resist. I knew I never could if he came. I sucked in my lips, sighed quietly and opening the door. I walked in, sitting at my study table and turning my chair around. I watched Jisung close the door behind hIm, making his way to the bed, each step seemed to be weary and careful, watching out for himself with every move to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

Jisung and I locked eyes for a long time, silence circulating the air. I cocked my brow up in curiosity as to why he wasn’t saying anything. Jisung quickly noticed my change of expression and shook his head as if bringing himself back from a moment of deep thinking. “I’m sorry. For that day. I know I was rude. First I did that, then I completely ignored you.” Jisung bit his lower lip, now avoiding eye contact like he was too embarrassed to meet my eyes. “I did it because I was scared of what my friends thought of me having someone.” My quizzical expression became more prominent.

I sat there, not sure of what to think. Like I said, I never wanted to think badly of Jisung. But after hearing that, it seemed that my underlined feeling of anger became to surface itself after being forced to suppress itself for far too long. “So you did that to me then you ignored me. On top of that completely removing me out of your life like I was invisible. Then you didn’t bother to try and fix this sooner. All this because of what you’re friends would think of me? Of us?” I pointed to myself, my voice growing scarily louder with each sentence.

I smacked my lips and nodded. I didn’t need his verbal reply to know the answers to that. And it disappointed me. “I never thought I’d say this. But that was shallow. Very shallow of you.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Did you know how much I was going through when I couldn’t contact you? All those times I texted and called, you didn’t reply to any of them. And why? For your pride? While I was here balling my eyes out every night unable to do my work.”

I allowed a moment of silence to pass, though I could’ve continued without having to catch my breath. “You used to be my escape. Someone I came to when I needed to destress, be free. But now... you’re just the person that’s stopping me from my goal. Getting work done, it could be stressing yes. But if I’m unable to do work just because of my feeling for someone as low as you...” I shut my eyes closed, wanting to hold back my tears. My opened my eyes and forced them to blare at Jisung with firmness. “I don’t see why you should be in my life anymore.”

I stood up, taking slowly strides to the door. I held the doorknob, turning it and opening the door. I brought my free hand out, motioning to Jisung. “Don’t come back. I can’t bear to see you anymore without having these confusing feelings. It’s something I shouldn’t be spending my time worrying about.” I said sternly. I watched Jisung. He seemed far from stable. He seemed to be cracking at the seams, he was at the edge of tears. He didn’t bother to hide them, the tears seeming to be clouding his vision as it welled up in his eyes. He had his eyes glued to the floor the whole time. A long moment went by till he finally stood up and walked to the door.

Before Jisung left, he stood right in front of me. His eyes met mine, shivering with guilt and instant despair. It broke my heart to see him like this. But in situations like these, I had to choose. Either lose Jisung, or lose myself. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, almost inaudible. He blinked his eyes once and the tears streamed down his cheeks. I reached my hand out, slowly and shakil to place them on his shoulder. He looked down on it, simply letting it slide off when he went. He walked away, and I bit my bottom lip. That was the last moment I saw him.

Closing the door, I let my back lean against the door and slide down till I reached the floor. I thought I wouldn’t feel a single sense of sadness or regret. But at that moment, when I couldn’t even handle seeing Jisung’s back disappear as he walked down the hallway, the shell I had carefully built around my heart shattered, and no number of words of reassurance repeated to myself will piece it back together. I shook my head. If I kept my expectations low, I would stop feeling the throbbing. If I cut off all my emotions, I wouldn’t be so weak. And that was what I was determined to do.

Jisung felt every single word struck deep and low, like a bell toll that shook inside him. As the her hand fell off his shoulder, so,too, did the warmth. He began to shiver. Only cold and pain remained, sharp enough to numb everything else. All his adrenaline, gone, and with it, his sense of feeling. All his life, gone. The ground caved in, and he hit bottom.

Jisung walked away with a heavy heart. Everything he did for her. From the moment she unintentionally made that call to the last time they met, Jisung had it flashed in his mind like a movie tape. She was al the more right to be like this to him. He knew all too wel of the consequences. He had to bear this pain. It was the only right thing to do. He didn’t know how he’ll get over it. But even if he eventually does. he’ll never forget her. Not for a single second. Even if she would be shoved to the back of his mind, he’d dug up for it again. She meant so much to him. And how Jisung will be seeing her no longer.

“Jaehyun stop I swear!” I giggled loudly as Jaehyun continued to tickle my sides. He carried me away from the cashier with his arms around my waist. I laughed out loudly and beg him constantly to put me down. He finally did when I gave him a hard smack in the arm and made him wince.

“You’re laugh is cute.” Jaehyun said with a light chuckle. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Yeah well you don’t have to keep tickling me for you to hear it.” I feigned exasperation, leaning forward against the counter to place my chin on the palm of my hand. “Really? Good to know but I’d still prefer to tickle you.” I shot Jaehyun a death glare and all he did was threw back a playful wink to which I responded with a ‘tsk’.

Jaehyun got close to ruffle my hair. And when he had his hand on my head, the bell above the door opened, signalling that someone entered. I swatted off Jaehyun’s hand, him laughing lowly at my defensive act as I pat down my apron. “Welcome to-” My voice stopped in its tracks. I was frozen. The moment I looked up, I instantly knew the person in front of me.

“Park Jisung.” I whispered, voice growing soft. I gulped, wanting to swallow away any feeling that might surface before I even continued. Our eyes locked. And Jisung... he was suddenly bringing in the sense of comfort through his gaze. I didn’t know how he did it. We’ve never met for almost two years. Yet here he was, suddenly showing up in front of my face, with not a single thing of him changed and giving me the exact same feeling I had back then.

“I’d like to talk. Over some black coffee?” Jisung offered, slowly pointing up to the menu, his eyes never leaving mine. I blinked my eyes rapidly and took this time to glance at Jaehyun, who seemed to he confused yet didn’t want to question or interrupt whatever was happening in front of me. “Why? You have no reason to.” I said simply with a nonchalant shrug. That was clearly a fake move.

“Just a chat. We used to be friends, didn’t we?” Jisung questioned back, pushing his shoulders back and allowing his chest to puff up ever so slightly with confidence. I didn’t know where he was going at, why he was here in the first place. Either way, I didn’t give him a reply, simply turning around to start making the coffee with Jaehyun giving me space.

I went to the table where Jisung was seated, placing the two cups of black coffee on the table. I took a seat at the opposite side. Tight silence circulated us. It made me want to choke due to how awkward it was. I was running my finger around the rim of the cup slowly. “Have you been well?” Jisung asked. “I’m doing great. Got into university and I’m working here part time.” I breathed out. “You?” I asked back. I was genuinely curious.

As much as I was able to get over Jisung, his unknown well being got me to he on edge whenever I thought of him. That could be said with my buried feelings for him as well. “Got admitted into an art school. I’m apparently capable enough to start my own dance crew.” Jisung breathed out a light chuckle and took a sip of coffee. “Look. What I’m here for is...”

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment before opening them back and have it darted to meet mine. “What I’m here for is that I want to start over.” I gave him an expressionless look, mainly because I didn’t know what emotion to show. It was all spiralled into something unrecognisable. A mix of lots of emotions. I had no reply for Jisung, which only gave him a signal to keep talking.

“Every day I’ve carried the burden of missing you. And each day it grew heavier and heavier. I knew it was the weight of my actions, their consequences. And I miss you too much. You meant so much to me, and you still do. I was trying to not break our friendship but I only made it worse. Trust me I regretted it everyday after that.” Jisung’s eyes softened and I grew weak under his gaze. It was gentle and light, it made me fall in a matter of seconds if I didn’t care to put in energy to have a guard up.

“And on top of that, it wasn’t just our friendship I missed. I missed it all. You. I didn’t get to say this, but I’ve liked you. And I always have. It was a feeling beyond the mutual one. It was something more and I came here afraid of how you’d think. I came anyway. Because I’d do anything to get to start over with you again.” I swallowed. It took me time to allow his words to sink in. I wasn’t able to form a reply right off the bat.

I did have feelings for Jisung as well. Though it wasn’t prominent at the start, it began to grew the more time we spent together, which was why it made the situation two years ago far more painful than it really was. Apparently Jisung felt that way as well.

“If I allow it, will you be my ukiyo again?” I whispered, looking down to my cup that I have yet to drink a singe drop of coffee from. Jisung leaned in closer and, his face now inches away from mine. My breath hitched in my throat. He still had this affect on me. The ability to have me frozen and stiff with his gaze and actions. It was something only he knew how to do, the only one who could do this to me. 

“Your ukiyo, your Peter Pan. Please...” Jisung leaned forward to rest his chin on top of my head, tilting his head down slowly to place a soft, loving kiss on the crown of my head. One that made me feel as if he was touching something so precious and fragile, the most important thing in the world. “Take me back.” I closed my eyes and took in one deep breath. 

“Take me back to the studio after my shift.” 

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (4/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, general trauma. 

a/n: unbeta’d. Yeah, I know - I can’t count. This is gonna be five chapters. 

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Murphy nearly bowls you over on his way down stairs, pulling up short when he sees you. 

“Shit!”

You glance down at yourself. Your clothes are rumpled and covered in ash and bile. You don’t even want to know what your face looks like. There’s rubble in your hair.

Murphy is still staring open-mouthed.

“The pharmacy below my apartment got bombed,” you explain hollowly. “I’m fine, I just need a shower.”

“You look like you need a hospital,” Murphy counters, eyeballing you with something akin to worry. “Fucking Christ, Ears, if Javi -”

You snap your eyes up at the mention of Javi. “Have you heard anything?”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Steve Murphy cracks a grin at you. “On his way home now.” He looks as relieved as you feel. “We got him.”

You manage to smirk back. “Good.”

“Congratulations, by the way. This one’s on you as much as anybody.”

“Thanks.” You sag against the side rail, trying to be subtle about it. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, your legs are shaking, and you think it’s only a matter of time before you fall over.

Murphy notices, because he reaches for your shoulder to steady you. “I really think-”

“No.” You cut him off forcefully, glaring at him with all the energy you have left. “No, Steve. I’m tired, that’s all.”

He sighs. Narrows his eyes. Frowns. “You’re bleeding.”

What?

Murphy gesturers to your temple with a finger that you have to stop yourself from flinching away from. “You’re bleeding, Ears,” he repeats, as if he’s expending a great amount of patience by pointing it out to you.

You reach up, wincing as you notice for the first time that your head hurts. When you draw your fingers back, they are coated in blood.

Murphy moves closer to get a better look.

“It’s just a scratch, Murph,” you tell him wearily. As far as you can tell, that’s true. There’s no gaping hole or giant gash, just a stinging little cut right at your hairline. “You know how head wounds are.”

He’s still glaring suspiciously at you, and you let him, meeting his gaze in silent challenge.

Eventually he sighs. “Okay, your funeral, I guess. Gimme a minute.”

Before you can retort, he ducks back inside, leaving you standing awkwardly on the front step. The walls are thin - you can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. He’s back seconds later, key in one hand, a slip of paper in the other.

He hands you the paper first. “This is my pager number. Javi’ll be back soon, but I want you to contact me if anything crazy happens.” He motions to your head with his thumb.

“Okay,” you promise.

“And here’s this.” He presses the key into your hand.

You look up at him wide-eyed. “Murphy, you can’t just give me Peña’s key.”

“What, you think it would be any different if I stepped across the landing and did the honors for you? I’m already late.” He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. “Besides, he’d want you to have it.”

Somehow, you seriously doubt that.

Murphy fixes you with a stare. “Trust me.”

“Hardly,” you mutter, taking the key from his hand anyway. You hold it up for emphasis. “But you’re taking the fall for this one, alright?”

Murphy rolls his eyes. “I think I can live with that. Stay safe, Ears, and page me if you need anything.”

♠

You resist the urge to flop down on Javi’s sofa and sleep for a thousand years, instead making your way to the shower. Peeling away your dusty clothes feels so incredibly good. So does the hot water. You take your time, exploring the lingering aches and pains in your body as you scrub them with Javi’s little sliver of Irish Spring. Aside from a few bruises and that one little slice on your temple that won’t quit oozing, you’re not injured anywhere. You think you might be a little sore from being thrown backward tomorrow, and your lungs still feel funny and raw from having the air knocked from them, but otherwise, the bombing of your apartment is more inconvenient than anything.

You try very, very hard not to think about Emilio.

You step out of the shower only when the water runs tepid, the cold jarring you awake. Javi only has two towels, it seems - one left out to dry on the towel rack, the other crumpled in the corner with a pair of boxers. Nice. You opt for the one that’s on the rack, wiping yourself down then wrapping up your dripping hair.

There’s something deliciously deviant about sneaking naked through Javier Peña’s apartment when he’s not home. You shake away your guilt, trying hard not to be too weirded out or too turned on as you rifle through his dresser drawers. You’ve got to wear something.

Eventually, you come away with the green t-shirt and the only pair of sweats the man owns. You eye yourself in the mirror, considering. Javi’s clothes are ridiculous on you - you have to roll the sweats three times at the waist just to keep from tripping - but hell, at least you aren’t naked. Looks like that cut finally stopped bleeding, too.

Carefully, you pull your hair into a sloppy braid and gather your dirty clothes, doing a cursory sweep of the apartment to see if Javi has anything else that needs washing. Other than the little pile in the bathroom, you find a t-shirt and a pair of mis-matched socks in the corner by the nightstand. Not bad for a single guy living alone, you decide.

You make the trip downstairs to the communal laundry room quickly, noting the time on the kitchen clock when you return. You don’t feel like waiting beside the machine today. Flopping on the sofa has lost it’s appeal - you’re bone weary, but every time you close your eyes, you see fireballs and charred bodies.

Sleep is not on the agenda.

Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time. 9:42. You put the water on, then shuffle downstairs to switch the laundry to the dryer. 40 more minutes, and then you can get out of here.

And then what?

You examine your options and find that the list is short. You aren’t going to stay here any longer than necessary - you’ve intruded on Javi’s privacy enough. Your only friend in Colombia is Ana, and that’s off the table for obvious reasons. Murphy isn’t at home, and Connie had left for the States just weeks after you’d arrived. Back to work, then.

You decide that’s best anyway. Somebody fucking bombed your apartment. Well, the mark was probably Emilio’s drug store, but still. Bombings don’t happen in Bogotá - that’s a Medellín thing. Especially a civilian target.

The rush of anger that consumes you is staggering. Who did this, and why?  Bombing a business is a very Pablo Escobar thing to do, but a small pharmacy? In Bogotá?

Ana and her father are good people. You know deep in your bones that they aren’t involved in the drug trade. You also have major doubts that this was an accident. So, what the fuck?

The injustice of it all makes you feel small and cold and helpless.

You’re missing something big.

Javi doesn’t have a television in his apartment. Even if you did have access the news, the information that you’re seeking is hardly going to be broadcast on live television, and certainly not so soon.

Work really is the best option, then. Between the bombing and Verdugo’s arrest, the sicarios must be on red alert. Maybe you can pick up on some chatter. 

Besides, you probably need to let Stechner know about your situation as soon as possible.

You glance at the clock. 10:07.

Ugh. You rise up on your tiptoes, bouncing in frustration. Caffeine and adrenaline have made you jittery. There’s something really cringe-worthy, too, about being alone in Javi’s apartment without his knowledge, especially given the way things ended between you.

The memory chafes, and you shake your head hard enough that it throbs.

Goddamn this day.

A shrill beeping jerks you from your thoughts, and you barely manage to stifle a shriek. Your pager!  You’d forgotten all about it. Your stomach swoops as you pick it up.

The number that flits across the screen belongs to Javi.

You take a breath. Weird. Aside from that one brief conversation yesterday, you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. It probably has something to do with Verdugo, you decide. Maybe he wants to inform you personally. That would be nice of him. After all, this was a pretty big arrest for you, too.

You locate the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number with trembling fingers. Damned coffee.

“Peña.” His voice is terse, clipped.

“Got your page,” you say warily. He sounds like he’s in a mood. “Is there -”

“Where are you?” he demands, cutting you off harshly.

You blink, startled. Forget ‘a mood,’ Javi sounds fucking livid. You’d assumed he’d be pretty relaxed, considering. “Umm, I’m actually at your place,” you speak slowly to hide the shakiness of your voice. Fuck, of all the times to get emotional. “Listen, my apartment was bombed. I just needed -”

You’re interrupted again by a sharp sigh. “Stay there,” Javi grinds out, and then there’s nothing but dial tone.

Slowly, you place the phone back in its cradle, processing the conversation.

What. The. Fuck.  

Bits of plastic clatter to the floor as the pager smashes into the refrigerator - you’re hardly even aware of throwing it. You sink to the kitchen floor, cradling your head in your hands and doing your damnedest to just breathe.

It’s not fucking fair. He was the one who stormed out slamming doors. You haven’t pressed him, haven’t been a nuisance. Well, aside from basically breaking into his apartment and borrowing his shower.

But fucking hell, somebody - probably Pablo Escobar -  just bombed your fucking apartment. You’re living in a foreign country and you don’t even speak the fucking language. There’s nowhere for you to go, and your clothes were a mess, and goddamn, you are just tired.

What were you supposed to do?

Footsteps thunder up the stairs. God, that was quick. You manage to leap to your feet just as the front door slams open with a bang.

Javi stops dead when he sees you, and your tirade dies in your throat.

“Hey.” It’s awkward, but it’s all you can manage.

He’s just staring at you, standing stalk still in the open doorway. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. His expression is tight, carefully closed off. One fist is clenched at his side, the other still gripping the doorknob.

“Murphy let me in,” you babble. You knew he was on his way, but still, his sudden appearance startled you. “My place, I mean, the drugstore -”

“I know.” He’s toneless, expressionless, frozen except for his eyes. They rove over your face and body, and you’re reminded suddenly of watching him read reports - quick, efficient, and exacting, like he’s taking in every detail in an instant.

Fuck. Heat rushes you as you remember that you’re still wearing his clothes. “Okay,” you breathe shakily, hardly aware of speaking aloud. This is getting weird, and you really don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with Javier Peña’s shit today.

Your laundry is probably dry anyway.

“Where are you going?” Javi demands, resting a hand on your shoulder as you attempt to push past him.

That does it. “To get the laundry!” you bite back, twisting away from his touch with a lot more drama than is really necessary. “My clothes are dry!”

He pulls away as if burned, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

You stand there like that for a long moment, just assessing each other. You’re glaring up at him warily, sizing him up, while he watches you with an expression that you don’t recognize.

“I’ll go,” he says softly. There’s something quiet, almost regretful in his tone, and it shatters your defenses. You bit your lip and nod shakily, and then he’s gone, descending down the stairs without another word.

Jesus.

You exhale another shaking breath - everything you do seems shaky, today - and pour another cup of coffee.

♠

You feel like you’ve got a little more control of yourself once you’re back in your own clothes. Javi is lighting a cigarette at the kitchen table when you exit the bathroom, a fresh butt still hot in the ashtray next to him.

“Rough night?” you ask, dropping his half-folded t-shirt and sweats onto the counter.

He huffs sarcastically.

You sigh. Your patience is wearing very, very thin, but you decide to try one more time, just for the hell of it. “Congratulations, by the way. Murphy told me about Verdugo.”

He blinks up at you, like you’ve pulled him from deep thought. “Yeah,” he says slowly, still staring at you with an intensity that’s starting to really freak you out. He pulls hard at the cigarette, and the moment breaks. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

You nod, suddenly tired.

He notices. “Ears?”

“I need to go back in,” you cut him off before he can ask whatever he was going to ask.

He frowns. “Didn’t you just leave this morning?”

Frazzled as you are, it doesn’t occur to you to ask how he knows that. “Yeah, Peña, I did,” you snap. “But then some fucker bombed my apartment, and I’ve got a nasty feeling that it has something to do with Pablo Escobar. I can’t go home, and I can’t get any sleep, so I might as well make myself useful and see if there’s anything worth listening to today.”

His gaze had drifted during your speech. He’s resting his jaw on his his palm, staring off into the middle distance.

Ugh.

“So, will you drive me, Peña, or am I calling a cab?”

“Sorry,” he says softly, breaking himself out of whatever stupor he’d been in. He stands and extends a hand like he might like to reach for you before deciding against it and grabbing his gun instead. “Of course I’ll drive you, if you feel like going in.” He catches your eye as he tucks the gun into his belt, serious now. “I really am sorry about your home, Ears.”

God. All Javier Peña has to do is throw you a tiny bone, and you fucking melt. The relief you feel is palpable. “Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a long second.

You hear him rustling around with keys. “Let’s go, then.”

♠

The car ride to headquarters is silent. Javi smokes three more cigarettes, tossing the butts out the open window before you even hit the parking lot, one after the other. You wonder what the fuck is going on with him.

He makes a point to let you out of the passenger side door, a little quirk that had been hit or miss before, depending on his mood. You walk together up the embassy steps, him hanging close to your shoulder but not quite touching you, and you wonder if this is his strange way of apologizing for the weirdness before.

You’re halfway to Stechner’s office when you realize that Javi is still following you. You arch a curious brow in his direction. He pointedly ignores it.

Okay, seriously. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question comes out a lot harsher than you intend, but hell, it’s been a terrible day.

He glances down at you, almost apologetic. “It can wait a minute.”

“Ears!”

Oh, fuck. Steve Murphy is running up the hallway, gaze zeroed in on you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just whirls on Javi. “Javi, what the fuck is she doing here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to keep from screaming. “I’m trying to go do my job, Murphy, if the fucking DEA will let me.” Thankfully, your voice comes out pretty level.

Javi’s looking at Murphy with a narrowed gaze, head cocked, hands on hips. “What do you mean, Murphy?” he asks in a low voice.

Murphy throws his hands up in consternation. “I mean she should be in bed, or at a fucking hospital. You should have seen her this morning, Javi. Looked like she’d come straight from a war zone!”

Javi whips around to stare wide-eyed at you. “Wait. You didn’t say…” All of the color is draining from his face. “You were there?” 

Something about the breathlessness the words, like they’d been punched out of him, sends little shocks of electricity zinging across your skin. “I’m fine,” you manage. As protests go, it’s pretty weak.

“God, Ears, you’re still bleeding.” Goddamn Steve Murphy and his fucking preoccupation with your blood. “Now get out of here, please, before I call you an ambulance. Jesus.”

Javi’s face is a storm cloud of emotions as the pieces continue to click into place. “Ears,” he growls, more horrified than angry. He grips you carefully by the shoulders, looking you over again. This time, he brings his fingers gently to your temple. They come away bloody.

He sucks a sharp breath, glancing up at Murphy. “You’ll handle Verdugo?”

Murphy’s lips are pressed into a fine line. “Absolutely, Javi. Get her out of here.”

♠

He escorts you from the building with a hand pressed firmly against the small of your back. It would be sweet, if not for the blistering pace and the stony expression that’s frozen on his face. People take notice, leaping out of your way, craning their necks to watch as you storm by. By the time you reach the doors, your cheeks are flaming.

“Agent Peña!”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even noticed Martinez and his entourage milling around the entrance.

“Yeah?” Javi bites out.

Martinez raises a brow at the scene the two of you make - you, bleeding and shamefaced, Javi damned near parading you into the parking lot with all the subtly of a thunderclap.

God, there’s no way this ends well for either of you.

“Verdugo is in interrogation room three,” Martinzes says, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Javi doesn’t even slow. “Stick Murphy on it,” he snaps over his shoulder. “I’m busy.”

Nobody dares argue with him.

♠

Instead of getting into the car, Javi leans heavily against the door.

You pause, opening your mouth to question him, but he reaches for your jaw before you can speak, carefully tilting your face up into the sunlight.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is soft, but he’s looking at you in undisguised concern, eyes roving over you with an intensity that tempts you to drop your gaze.

You shiver. You can’t help it - you’re exhausted and emotional, and things with Javi have been so weird for so long, and now he’s staring at you, sharp and worried, running his thumbs across your scalp to gently assess for injuries.

No, you are not okay.

He notices the little tremor that darts through your body and rests one hand on your shoulder, leaning in to look you straight in the eye. “How far were you from the explosion?”

“Across the street,” you tell him, breathless for all of the wrong reasons. It’s only half-way true, you’d been crossing the street when the bomb had gone off, far closer to the blast zone than you’re leading him to believe. But he’s so close, cupping your cheeks in his hands, leaning forward to shield you from the traffic-side of the parking spot with his body as he continues to draw his fingers across your skin, gently assessing for more damage.

“It just knocked me off my feet,” you continue. Your throat is suddenly so dry. “Startled me, more than anything.”

Javi reaches with one finger to expose the wound on your temple. It’s still oozing.

“And this?” he asks, pinning you with another piercing stare.

You reach up, catching his hand as his fingers begin to drift down your cheek. He twitches reflexively. “Just a little scratch,” you promise him. “Falling glass, or shrapnel, I guess. Something grazed me. I never hit my head.”

This is not a lie. You never blacked out; you’re not hurt.

He blusters a sigh, scrubbing his face with his palm for a brief second. “I should really take you to the hospital.” His jaw tightens as he speaks.

“I just said I didn’t hit my head. I’m fine.” You indicate the wound on your temple. “This is nothing. You know how head wounds like to bleed.” You look up at him, projecting as much wide-eyed, awake, vibrant woman as you possibly can after walking away from a fucking bomb, and squeeze his hand in reassurance. “Please, Peña. I just want to go -”

Home, you almost say.

You stop yourself just in time. There is no home, not anymore. And you won’t make the mistake of referencing Peña’s place as anything other than ‘Peña’s place.’ That would be supremely stupid, given all of the recent drama.

“To bed,” you manage instead. “I’m just tired.”

And god, that is the truth.

If Javi notices your faux pax, he doesn’t mention it. He’s hardly taken his eyes off you. He’s near enough that you can feel the heat of his skin, one hand still twined in yours.

It’s all you can do to avoid resting your head on his chest.

“Okay,” he mutters begrudgingly, and then shakes his head like he hadn’t meant to agree. “I’ll take you home.”

You smile wanly at him. “Thanks.”

♠

author’s notes/confessions

I know you still have questions. I promise you, I will answer them.

Steve Murphy is a good bro.

Y’all hit me up if you want a little Javi one-shot after this next chapter. I wrote it for my own reference, but it might be a fun read, if you’re wondering what’s happening inside his head right now.

@tiffdawg​, look what you made me do. ;)

[alreadyblondenow]

And he never heard from her again

▸ Jaehyun x reader ▸ Smut, Angst, Idol au

Summary: As you lay at the hospital bed unconscious, Jaehyun blames himself because of the accident and regrets the time when he took you for granted.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Sex, sex, car accident, major character loss (that spoils everything but you’ve been warned), possessiveness, making of sex tape, mentions of multiple sex tapes, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, Jaehyun accidentally hurts the reader. Click away if any of the warnings makes you uncomfortable.  

A/N: PURE FICTION! Enjoy another idol au from me. 

Wet.

Minty.

Cold.

“Wake up sleepy head” your boyfriend spreads wet kisses around your exposed skin. Anything he could reach, your neck, your thighs, your lips. It feels good to be showered with love first thing in the morning but you shrug him off and pull the blanket over your head because you want to sleep more. “I’m sorry to disturb your sleep princess, but it’s time to go now” you smell his fresh breath near your face. And when you finally meet his eyes, your boyfriend is all dressed up, ready to start his schedules for today.

“Oh Jung Jaehyun, you have worn me out last night” you whine but you force yourself to wake up. Jaehyun is looking at your morning face and naked body, admiring the beauty of his girlfriend. “No shower sex today?” he gave you a good morning kiss and chuckled at your question.

“No, sleeping beauty. If only you got up a little early then, yeah we could have. But, you were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t wake you up. Now come on, have breakfast with me before the van arrives with my manager” he offers you his hand to help you get up, giving you his robe to cover yourself.

It was your second anniversary last night and you two had dinner in one of the fanciest restaurants in Seoul. The food was amazing as expected, Jaehyun picked a fine wine which made you two a little buzzed and ended up in his house and had crazy anniversary sex to end the night.

Dating a very famous kpop star like Jaehyun is not a walk in the park. But loving each other and giving the relationship a chance is always worth it. The busy schedule is something you and Jaehyun always fight about, but as you two keep on holding on you both managed your busy schedules and always meet each other halfway just so you can spend time with each other. Who would have thought that believing that your relationship could work brought you two deeper into loving each other?

After you had your shower, Jaehyun booked you a cab to make sure you get home safely. You see, even for Jaehyun, watching you leave every morning is something he really hates. “Call me when you’re home okay? I’ll pick up, I’m having my makeup done by that time” he kissed you deeply and passionately before he opens the door for you and watches you get inside the cab.

Soon, the white van appears in front of his house and Jaehyun said goodbye to his family thanking them once again for letting you and him crash for the night. His family always adored you, they love you even more because you take care of their dear Jaehyun and secretly hoping that it’s going to be the two of you in the end.

When Jaehyun is all settled and getting his make up done for NCT’s schedule for today, his phone rang and it was a call from you. Finally, he thought, his mood changed from quiet to giggly because you did not forget to call him. “I’m guessing you missed me already, that’s why you called?” he answers with a smile, the members beside him tease him continuously. He needed to gesture a ’shh’ sign because he can’t hear you.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jung but this is not Ms. Y/n. She got into a car accident this morning and we can’t reach anyone from her family. She is rushed to the Asan Medical Center. Your number is the only local number we could find if you could please-“

The shocking news made Jaehyun drop his phone and ran to his manager, asking him to please let him go to the hospital to see you. Jaehyun was desperate but the managers can’t let him go just like that. Spotting a kpop star inside a hospital can make a whole nation buzz, of course, they won’t let Jaehyun go to you. There are tears in his eyes as he imagines you alone and unconscious in a hospital bed while the members are trying to help him compose himself and tells him to be strong but Jaehyun was only quick to blame himself and cry some more. “This is all my fault”  

Twenty five months ago

Jung Jaehyun is mighty handsome.

The office is having an exclusive party at an open space rooftop bar. The party was not like any loud party, it's a party where people still talk about business and meet possible clients for the future. And meeting Jung Jaehyun and the other members of NCT 127 and their manager, is part of the purpose of this party.

And again, Jung Jaehyun is might handsome.

“How long have you been in the marketing industry?” he asks, leaning on the glass balcony with you. Looking at the wonderful view of Seoul.

“Long enough to be established?” you chuckled because you don’t want to sound so boastful with your life achievements.

For a minute it was an exchange of words, a decent conversation that’s in between being professional and being friends, but it soon turned to lowkey flirting and exchanging of glances. He tells you what’s on his mind, you listen and feel your heart skip a beat every time he look into your eyes and smile. “Can I be frank?” he licks his lips and drank from his bottle of beer, “I find you attractive and I want to keep talking to you and I want to know what you think about me- and don’t you dare lie, please”

You let out a scoff and smiled at him shyly, “Well, Jung Jaehyun you’re incredibly handsome. That has been going on through my head since I saw you earlier and you’ve been making my heart skip a beat for the last few minutes”

Satisfied with your answer, he came closer to you slowly. Like your bodies are magnets. You’re sure that the place isn’t quiet but this small space that you share with Jaehyun is dead silent. Only his breaths and yours are the only ones you can hear. Having this kind of moment with Jaehyun is kind of magical like you’re a princess who just met his destined prince in a ball.

The friendly and flirty conversation became something even more when Jaehyun became too bold with telling you how he wanted to end this night with you, when he pressed his cold bottle of beer just above your knee and when he starts caressing your shoulder like he’s not on a public place. You’re not stupid to see that he’s after having a one night stand with you. One thing led to another and the next thing you know is you’re back at your apartment, kissing Jaehyun on your couch with a long forgotten bottle of wine on the coffee table. It’s not right to sleep with your clients but nobody needs to know.

Jaehyun kissed you down on your couch, unbuttoning his dress shirt and revealing his abs to you. Your hands automatically roamed around his body and you feel him smile in between kissing you passionately. “You’re so handsome” you whisper, and guided his hand under your dress, he got the message and finger fucked you while you remove your clothes and bra, leaving your panties on to tease the handsome man kissing you.

“I’ll take you out on a date, I promise,” he says while unbuckling his belt, removing his pants and boxers brief.

Wow. He’s big. And he has a dick of a porn star, his pubic hair is so sexy and- “Oh-“ he devours your neck, biting and nibbling your ear making you giggle and laugh while your bodies grind on each other. “So this is not a one time thing?” you moan out and he stopped upon hearing your words. “What? No. Let’s see where this goes” his face was so close to yours and you can’t stop your smile because you couldn’t believe you scored Jung Jaehyun. Is this a dream?

“What’s that smile, hmm?” he nuzzles your neck and kisses it softly. You touch his dimples and lips but he’s quick to catch your hand with his mouth and kiss it. “I’m just a person who happens to be not immune by your charms. I’m not kissing you as a kpop star now, I’m kissing you as Jaehyun” he continues to spread kisses around your neck, down to your left boob, and suck it for some time.

“Can I remove your panties?” he asks oh so sweetly.

“Of course” you answer with a kiss and feel him remove your underwear without breaking the kiss. Once fully exposed, you feel his slender fingers play with your slit before he goes in finally, the tip of his cock making you jolt for a bit. You hear Jaehyun grunt and watch as his eyes close and part his lips as he pushes inside you slowly “Fuck” Jaehyun went straight to the point and fucks you deeply. Bodies to bodies while listening to each other’s breaths.  

You had sex for the first time on your couch on the night you two first met.

Present time

“Just sign here please, then your transaction is complete”

For the third time in the past two months, Jaehyun has been paying your hospital bills and has been taking care of you, while your family is finalizing some heavy paperwork before flying to Seoul. Not that he’s thankful for the awful accident, but the accident had become the way for Jaehyun to finally meet your family even if it’s through a video call. Jaehyun promised your parents to take care of everything while waiting for them and that he’ll gladly pay for the hospital bills and refuse to take your parent’s cash.

It’s been two months since the accident and every day without you is consistent torture for Jaehyun. As long as you’re not awake, he will never stop worrying for you. It doesn’t matter if he overworked himself to save money for the bills, as long it saves you he’s up for it.

Ever since the accident, Jaehyun and the other members help him look after you at the hospital. Of course, the members are worried about Jaehyun’s emotional state as they are worried about your condition. They made sure that you two get the emotional and physical support that you and Jaehyun need. SM managers were all nice and helped Jaehyun with everything they can just so your boyfriend can see you every day.  

It was not an easy fight for Jaehyun, but the people around him take care of him, while he takes care of you.

“The other two victims from the accident passed away this morning” Jaehyun informs Johnny as the two sit quietly near you. Watching his girlfriend on a hospital bed is a different kind of pain. He misses you a lot.

“Don’t overthink dude. She will be fine” to be honest Johnny doesn’t know how to comfort his friend.

As Jaehyun takes Johnny’s advice, he reminisces about the memories that he had with you. Everything, from happy memories to sad and awful ones. Regretting the times that he took you for granted and promised over and over again that if he’s given a second chance to love you, he will love you right this time.

“I wished for this accident to happen Johnny. It’s my fault” Jaehyun blurted out.

Johnny was shocked to the core and stopped what he’s doing with his phone, “What the fuck?”

Jaehyun told Johnny the story about the biggest fight you two had during the months when you were just a new couple. So new that your work schedules irritate the both of you and all you two did was have sex and forget the problem. The cycle went on and on until you had enough and you wanted to break up with him.

Five months of being together

In the middle of having dinner with Jaehyun in a private restaurant, you finally told him what you’ve been keeping inside your heart. “This will never work, Jae” he turned silent and pretends that he’s not hearing you and you find it disrespectful. He was smiling the whole time, asking you what do you want for dessert and pour you a glass of wine like there's nothing wrong.

“I’ll cut ties with you starting tonight Jae, and that’s my final decision” you wiped your lip with the table napkin and stand up from your seat.

“Wait- baby, okay I’m sorry” he stopped you from opening the door, pull you in an embrace and everything turned silent again. You still love him, but staying in this relationship is hurting both of you so you had to take the first step and leave. As usual, Jaehyun uses his charms to get away from the situation. He kisses your neck and tells you sweet things that will lead you to having sex with him in this room. But not anymore, you thought.

“Enough Jaehyun. Please stop” you begged him to stop kissing your neck. Slowly, you feel his embrace crushing you and hurting you. You try so hard to push him away but Jaehyun is naturally strong that whatever you do to push him away is nothing.

Eventually, he lets go and tell his sorry. “I’ll change, I swear”

“No-“

“Stop making it complicated!” he punched the door and the loud sound surrounds the small room making you scared of him. He was turning red and his eyes were full of anger like he’s about to hurt you.

“I want to leave-“

“Well, I hope you get into an accident” he opens the door for you, pushing you out of the room because he’s so angry he’s actually afraid he might hurt you.

The breakup did not push through because Jaehyun went to your apartment to ‘fix’ things, three days after the fight. He apologized with all his heart, telling you he’s sorry and that he won't do it again. He promised to change his ways and love you even more in exchange for taking him back to your life and give him a second chance. Apologies are nothing if a person will always do it again. It’s up to you if it’s still healthy to take him back into your life. And of course, you have a weak spot when it comes to Jaehyun. You love the man. And he loves you. He just sucks at showing it.

Now that Jaehyun is on his sixth chance, the change that you’ve been yearning for and the change that he promised is long forgotten. Days, weeks, and months passed by, you and Jaehyun still fight like crazy because of different reasons that piss you both. May it be jealousy, he stood you up on a date, you forgot that he’s going to visit you in your apartment, Jaehyun has no time for you, or you don’t want to have sex but he’s really horny.

“I had a company dinner tonight, baby I thought you understand that part?” you whine in frustration while you remove your watch and your earrings. Listening to Jaehyun as he shouts at you, telling you that he’s tired from practice but he still chose to visit you, only to find out that you’re not home. He kept on yelling his points and arguments, hurting you with words that you’ve heard him say before but still sounds like you’ve just heard them tonight.

“I waited for hours! If my career is ruined because of you, I swear!-“

“I can ruin your career in one click, Jaehyun. Do you want me to post all of our sex videos?” you finally bite back because you can't stand him already.

“Post all you want my fans will be happy seeing my dick but you, you will get all the hate in the world!”

“Fine then!” you threaten him of actually posting it, scrolling through your gallery to find your favorite video with him. “Ah! This!” you picked the video where Jaehyun was spitting on your boobs while two fingers are inside your mouth and his cock is inside you. He was wildly flirting with the camera like a porn star. His fans will not doubt that he is the guy from the video.

“Stop it. I mean it” he tried grabbing your phone but you’re quick to counter his move. For a minute, it became a violent push and pull that made him use his strength on you which is not fair. He threw your phone so hard on the nearest wall that it cracked and the screen got broken. He didn’t notice that he pushed you way too hard that you landed on the floor face first and made you bruise your face.

“Fuck- let's stop this, baby I’m sorry” he let out his frustration.  

“DON'T TOUCH ME! GET OUT!” you shouted so loud that you’re sure you hurt his ears. You slapped him so hard on the face when he came close to help you get up. He took it like a man, but it’s obvious that your slap hurt his pride. Thankfully, he did not pry and left your apartment quietly.

Present time

While Jaehyun was cleaning your face with a damped cloth, he noticed that your bruises are all healed. He remembered that one time when he had pushed you accidentally and you ended up having a cut just above your eyebrow. He also remembered how you slapped him so hard that it made him realize that all he’s ever done to you is hurt you. It was a wake up call for him.

“Slap me again. I don’t care just please wake up” he begs. Kissing your forehead before continuing to clean you up. It has been his routine to talk to you even though he gets nothing. Sometimes he plays you some music so you won't get bored in your sleep and also you would know that he’s inside the room with you. As he continues being like this, he never losses hope and always visit you with a cheerful aura, knowing all too well that being negative in this kind of situation will only make him go crazy.

“Maybe if I did let you break up with me the first time you said it, this wouldn’t happen to you. I’m sorry” he whispers again. Tucking you in your hospital bed and making sure that you won't get cold. He fixed the white sheet and smoothens it before laying beside you carefully.

“I just love you so much” he hugs you carefully, “That’s why I really can’t let you go. But look where my selfishness brought you” tears roll down on his cheeks, making your sleeves wet because of his continues crying.

When Jaehyun became busy with his career, he can’t visit you every day anymore but confident that you’re in good hands because your parents are with you now. Nonetheless, he never forgets to call the doctor to check up on you. Sometimes, he and Taeyong write lyrics in your room just so he can spend time with you while he’s still working on his music. To be honest, he produces great lyrics whenever he works beside you. It was too much for him that sometimes he cries while writing the lyrics and Taeyong is quick to bring him back to focus and comfort him.

First month of being together

The continuous ringing of your doorbell makes you panic for nothing and quickly ran to your door to open it. “Jaehyun, what are you doing here?” you look outside to check if it’s safe and that none of your neighbors is watching.

“I just miss you so much I’m itching to see you” he cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately, closing your door shut and motioning your bodies straight to your bedroom. You two were quick to get naked and meet in the middle of your bed to kiss and fuck already.

“Can’t believe I’m letting you fuck me in the middle of the afternoon Jaehyun” you lay comfortably in bed as Jaehyun kiss you wherever he wants, however, he pleases. Kneading your boobs and sucking them from time to time, spreading spit all over your body, and licking your pussy. He surprised you by spreading your folds and spitting on your pussy, licking you good, and making you moan and whine.

“Still on the pill?” he asks, pumping his cock and sucking your right nipple as he waits for your answer. You nod your head. Jaehyun folds both of your legs and spread them wide until your hips are not touching the mattress giving Jaehyun a nice angle to fuck you deeply. He pushed in slowly while watching you beneath him, he watches you grab your boobs and moan a little too loud. “I want to do something fun, will you let me?” he asks in between fucking you deep and slow, you wonder what he has in mind.

“Whatever you want” you smile and watch him reach something on the side table. He opens your phone and put it in recording mode, taking a video of his cock going in and out of your pussy, switching the camera to selfie mode, and put it on the side of your bed. Telling you to smile while he continues to fuck you. “Clever,” you said, as you two look at the camera while having sex. You smiled and asked him to flirt with the camera so whenever you watch it, it will make your heart jump and you won't miss him that much when he’s away. And so he did. He flirts in the camera like how he flirts with you normally in bed, kissing you while he looks at the camera, putting his idol skills to good use in bed.

“Turn around for me please” you followed what he asked of you and lay on your stomach. Jaehyun put your phone in front of you and dragged you all the way down to your bed so you two can fit the screen. He puts your ass up in the air, lick your pussy from behind, and went back to fucking you. Jaehyun loves to fuck you hard from behind while his hand is on your nape, pushing your face on the mattress as he pounds you hard.

“FUCK” you cursed loudly when you feel his thumb go inside your asshole slowly, making your pussy clench and unclench. A tight feeling for Jaehyun’s cock which he loves. He lets go after a minute and put his fingers on your clit, making you let go and cum so good that your legs are shaking and your legs are giving on you. You feel Jaehyun slow down and feel him cum inside you, leaning down to kiss you and ask you if you’re alright.

He saved the video and put your phone back on the side table and went back to shower your body with kisses while you two calm down from your high. “Sorry if this is spontaneous” he lays beside you, tired and sweaty.

“It’s okay baby, I miss you too”

“Baby?” he smiled in disbelief.

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes and continue to catch your breath.

“Say it again? Please?” he asked oh so sweetly showing off his dimples. Your weakness.

“Baby-“ he devours your lips again after hearing you call him ‘baby’. A small gesture that makes his heart jump.

“That’s it, okay? We're together now and that’s official. Understand?” he kissed you deeply again before you could even say something else. You smile through the kiss amused at how happy Jaehyun is while he’s on top of you. You two stayed like that in bed talking about anything and everything, admiring each other while you’re skin to skin, asking for kisses here and there, laughing together whenever he tells you something funny.

From the moment Jaehyun left you that day, your life changed and Jaehyun is the reason behind it. Bittersweet. That’s the perfect word for your relationship. No relationship is perfect, you’re well aware of that. And dating a famous idol can be so complicated that it drives you both crazy. But still, it’s a relationship worth saving for because you love each deeply than you could have ever imagined.

Present time  

Waiting is long suffering. That is clear to Jaehyun, now that you’re already sleeping for a year and four months, slowly his hope is already running thin. Not only that he’s suffering emotionally these past few months, but he’s also suffering financially and has become a man full of debts. He loaned money from his company, the bank, even from his parents, just so your hospital bills can be covered. Accepting every kind of project and working from sun up to sun down just so he can provide your needs.

Your parents needed to go back home and entrust you to Jaehyun because they don’t have any other options.

Life is becoming harder than expected.

Now that he’s away for a tour, he became even more depressed because he can’t be by your side. He asked his parents to take care of you while he’s on tour, which they gladly accepted and made sure to call him every day to tell him your condition even though he hears exactly the same thing every day.

“Great job today everyone!”

The members and staffs congratulate each other as they finish another successful concert in the states. Hugs everywhere, and a lot of ‘thank yous’ are said, smiling through the day as Jaehyun ready himself to call his mother and ask about you.

“34 missed calls” he murmurs and went somewhere quiet to call his mother and ask about the 34 missed calls. They should know that he’s working.

“Hey, mom. W-why so many calls? I was doing a show- did she wake up already?” The other line was silent but he can hear his mom breathing, “Hello?” Jaehyun speaks again.

“She gave up son, she passed away, two hours ago”

Jaehyun’s world came crashing down as he reaches for the nearest wall to support himself because his knees gave up on him. Tears pool in his eyes as he cries quietly, holding his phone so tightly. He screamed and sobbed so loud it echoes to the empty hallway. Thankfully Mark saw him and called the others and his manager.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” he yelled and push the other members away as he lets that sadness take him away.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Y/n, please forgive me!”

[uponrightful]

So, I love possessive, jealous Crosshair 🥵 Tell me about this scene (please?):

“Trouble doesn’t suit you, doll.” He murmured lowly, soft voice contrasting the slight pressure over her pulse point and the swell of her hip. Crosshair was all-consuming and Dutch was weak to do anything but try to stay silent under his pressing weight and commanding presence at her back.

Also, I’d love to know what Echo was thinking once Cross went to the fresher after Dutch.

You’re the best! 😘

Commentary Track for Coriolis Effect

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I'll give you my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character's- when I wrote it!

*send one in here anytime!*

My oh my! 😍 What spicy scene we have here. I'll start with what's going on with Crosshair first, then I'll come back for Echo and the rest of the Batch. haha

***

Crosshair is fuming with rage during his conversation with Echo: It's that kind of bodily energy you get after watching a action-movie, where your whole body feels tired, but it's twitching with adrenaline that can't be spent or released. That kind of feeling you can't get rid of no matter what you do to ignore it, or work through it. Your mind feels like it working so fast that it's in slow-motion, overanalyzing the smallest details until your grinding your teeth because there's nothing else that helps relieve the pressure.

But the second he enters the refresher all of that energy snaps from anger and fear for Duchess, into dead calm. His inner voice stops screaming and evens out in tone and his hands stop shaking. His breathing slows and the second Cross sees her standing there, it's like he's been meditating deeply for hours. This kind of concentration is only present in Crosshair one other time... And you guessed it. When he's shooting.

Note: This is the epitome of Crosshair's ability to manage impulse-control in unfamiliar -and stressful- situations. Key-word here being "unfamiliar." I firmly believe that Cross is painfully terrible at monitoring and expressing his emotions. He has so many of them all the time that from a young age he had to learn how to turn them off in a moments notice, simply so he could survive. Think about it... How can a sniper worry about his brothers dying right before his eyes and still make clean shots? Not even Crosshair can do that. So the second he's certain Dutch is safe -by visually proving her health- that well-trained nature takes over to protect him like it always does.

Crosshair -at this point- isn't sure what he wants. He needs to touch her though, remind himself that she's tangible and within reach. Not that he isn't aware of his effect on her, but this moment isn't about sexual appeal or attraction. This is desperation, and Crosshair knows that; He's just banking on the hope that she'll let him, because she's always done so. He feels safe with Duchess, and even though this feels/looks sexy, Crosshair feels completely vulnerable right now.

Note: I will say it now; Once and for all. I have never subscribed to the idea that Crosshair is a typical Dominant/BDSM/Sadisim kind of guy. And the distinction is all to do with motivation. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out why he acts the way he does, and how that manifests itself. So when I planned this scene, I wanted to focus on just how strong his desire to have security is. Not prowess, or control. It's all to do with the desperate need he has to prove how he feels about her. That kind of vulnerability just comes easier to him physically than it does emotionally. Duchess gives him a sense of stability -in and out of the sexual sense- that makes his characterization insanely complex and difficult to balance.

The moment he finds his words, it's a compulsory need to cover his own jealousy. Crosshair is undoubtedly unhappy knowing she went out with Regs... but what's really bothering him is how easy it is to feel so strongly for Duchess. Every time he speaks, it's intentionally driving attention towards someone else, and away from his own desire to be the focus of her attention. Cross uses his fear of her being unsafe to mask the jealousy that constantly compares himself to the others who can give her attention more freely than he can personally. Duchess sees his calm nature as patience and precision, but it's really Crosshair planning out what he's going to say because he knows one wrong move will reveal just how desperate he is to have her acceptance of him.

Note: I've never struggled to balance possessiveness and love like I have with Crosshair. He's so intense that if I'm not careful, he comes off like a walking red-flag. Word choice is essential when getting Cross' character and reactions right. Whether it be the way he talks to her, or the way he naturally falls into a protector role. That's why when I'm writing for him, it takes double the time it does to write anything else. Every movement, every word he says, needs to be written like he says it in the moment. That's the only way to show his softness... because the love that he gives is best felt in person. You can't describe Crosshair's love with words easily.

Now for sweet, sweet, Echo.

Let me preface this by saying: Echo is his brother's keeper. There is a relationship there that goes far deeper than the ones Crosshair holds for his other brothers. It happened slowly, but it wasn't until the two of them were too far into it that either recognized what had happened. Their personalities are something that wouldn't really mix on first glance, but for some reason or another, they just get each other. It's natural, and they gravitate towards each other.

That being said, Duchess and Echo are their own kind of dynamic. I see them as the "platonic-soulmate" kind. She has an intensity that Echo marvels at, and Dutch knows she could take any problem to him and he would do anything to help her. They both see something in the other that they wish they still had, or could develop. It's probably the purest friendship Duchess has ever had, and Echo can't help but harken back to Fives when he sees her attitude -in future chapters.

Note: From the first moment I created Duchess, I just knew in my heart she was meant to be something special to Echo. To me, it was only right that Crosshair's doll would feel strongly connected to Echo as well. Add in their common feeling of loss for brothers, and that just made their relationship that much stronger. She's such a force, and the ARC trooper can't help but find a enamorment with people who have such a strong will and fiery personality. (See Fives)

The moment Echo sees Crosshair, he's already preparing to do anything necessary to protect Duchess from incurring another possible hit to her bruised emotions. Echo trusts Crosshair, but he's highly attentive to Cross and how raw his emotions are. Their interaction is based in Echo's desire to save the couple from losing the chance to do things the right way. Intuition and experience guide Echo through the whole conversation; He really is flying by the seat of his blacks here... But he's so well-versed in reading Crosshair that none of the other Batcher's even think about offering to be the first one Crosshair faces when he comes in the bunk hall. Echo has unmatched faith in Cross, and this was something both of them knew would happen.

Note: Writing this scene was challenging for a number of reasons. For one, neither Echo or Crosshair really talk a whole lot. They say what they need to, and that's the end of it. So I spent days watching Echo and Crosshair's interactions. Trying to figure out what I could based off the -very little- examples I was given. In that, I found that the two of them hardly ever stand next to each other, but they're constantly sharing glances and looking at each other. Echo and Crosshair have silent conversations all. the. time.

Had Echo not allowed Crosshair to go and see Duchess, their sexy scene would have never happened. (And I played around with that idea very seriously...) Ultimately, Echo's intuition was the deciding factor. That conversation, and Crosshair's attempt at honesty was the reason Echo felt confident in letting him speak to her. And although Echo could sense Crosshair's patience running thin, he'd already told the rest of the Batch to be prepared for any fight. Echo wouldn't put it past Cross to stun him, but a gut-feeling kept him from mentally preparing to do the same thing.

Additionally, it was Echo who made everyone leave the bunk hall. The second Crosshair and himself reached an agreement, Echo was the first to step away. His next move was to shove the rest of the Batch out the doors and give Duchess and Crosshair the privacy needed to work through their shit. And although he expected it to end in sex, the desire to keep their business between them alone was Echo's main motivation to empty the bunk room. Neither Crosshair or Duchess really trust the Batch at this moment -in Echo's mind at least- and risking their privacy wasn't something the ARC would stand for. In the back of his mind though, Echo was terrified that Crosshair would fuck her and leave it at that. He's seen the sniper at his best and his worst, and although his best is wonderful, his worst can be miserable to endure. Echo was praying that Crosshair wouldn't be too harsh -physically and mentally- on Duchess.

When Hunter finally decided enough time had passed, Echo was on edge to see just where the two of them would be. The image of them sleeping in separate bunks: Crosshair pretending to sleep -like always- and Duchess laying quietly and pretending like nothing happened shook Echo to his core. But the second he saw her bunk in a disarray, and her not in it, Echo couldn't help but fucking grin. He was proud of his brother for doing the right thing. For doing something for himself, and not worrying about how it would make him look for once. Add in the way Crosshair reprimanded Tech, and how deathly serious he looked with her sleeping peacefully against him...?

That was the moment Echo knew for certain that Crosshair was never coming back from this. He saw a visible change in his brother, in the way his attitude changed. The way Crosshair wasn't worried about himself, or attempting to hide behind sneers and sarcastic comments. Echo noticed how attuned he was to her in that moment, putting her comfort above all else. For a man who pretended to not care about anything, Crosshair did a terrible job of hiding his true personality when Duchess was curled up into him. And Echo couldn't be happier, knowing that his trust in Crosshair hadn't been for nothing. Not only was his brother experiencing love in a way that all of them desired, but Duchess was never going to live with the question of whether or not someone truly cared for her.

***

I hope this was what you were looking for in-terms of answers 😅. I had a great time writing this for you, and I hope you'll feel comfortable doing this again whenever you feel like it! I love sharing the behind-the-scenes stuff with you! It makes the cuts and editing feel a little less sad knowing I might be able to share some of it with you anyways!

[squiggledrop]

Reforget - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Both Reader and Spencer have feelings for each other. Reader kisses Spencer, but he runs away and ignores her. - Song fic to Reforget by Lauv

Word Count: 3k

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff (NSFW, 18+)

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual implications, Crying, Angst, Fluff,

Didn't wanna be a ghost

But you pushed me over and over

Never thought I'd have a vice

Other than you, over and over

It had been three weeks since you and Spencer first kissed, and two weeks and six days since you both decided you were better as friends. Well, since Spencer had decided for the both of you. When it happened, the two of you were walking out of the BAU together, ready to head home. You had had a crush on Spencer since your first day a couple of months ago, and the two of you quickly became good friends. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer also had a crush on you, but was much too insecure to ever act on it. As you made your way to your car, you grabbed Spencer’s arm as he was about to turn and say goodnight. You didn’t know where this spur of confidence came from, but you were running with it. You gave him a peck on the lips, which caused his face to turn into a tomato. 

“I’m so sorry”, you blurted out in shock, “I don’t know what I was-”. You were cut off by Spencer cupping your cheeks and placing his mouth back on yours. For the first time in Spencer’s life, his brain couldn’t keep up, and he was on you before he could even process what was happening. The kiss was fueled by passion and the hidden feelings between you both were almost palpable. When you pulled apart you stared into each other’s eyes, full of lust and desire, however, as Spencer finally realized what had just happened, his eyes grew wider and a film of terror masked his face. 

“Uh, night”, he stated blankly before darting off. You tried to call out to him, but it was no use as you couldn’t seem to form any words. You stood there in shock. Every emotion coursed through your body. You were terrified because you just kissed Spencer Reid. You were elated because Spencer Reid kissed you back! But, you were crushed because Spencer Reid just kissed you and ran off like it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Left you in the sky with the fire below

Thought I had it right, but I'm still

Lost in the light

As you drove home you replayed the events of the night over, and over again in your head, trying to make sense of what just happened. He kissed you back. That had to mean something. 

Spencer rode the subway in silence, just staring out the window, reminiscing how your lips felt on his. He was beating himself up for running away like that, but he couldn’t handle the thought of you rejecting him. When you kissed him his mind went blank and when you pulled away he put his lips right back where they belong. The only problem was, as he was kissing you, your words finally registered in his head: I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. He knew kissing you back was a mistake and he couldn’t bear look you in the eye after you had apologized for kissing him. 

When you got home, you looked at the screen of your phone through tear-filled eyes. You made out Spencer’s blurry contact in your texts.

To Spencer: Hey, can we talk about earlier?

Spencer heard his phone buzz and blinked back the tears welling in his eyes. It was a text from you asking to talk. Great, he thought to himself, you probably wanted to apologize again because kissing him was just that horrible. Spencer opted to save himself anymore hurt and ignored your text. He threw his phone on the couch and went to bed.

To Spencer: Can you at least let me know you got home okay?

To Spencer: Spence, please?

The tears streaming down your face became too much, so you decided to just leave him be. Fine, if he wants to be a jerk who just kisses you and runs away then so be it. You left the ball in his court, so it was his move. You had no energy to do anything else.

The only problem was, Spencer was never good at sports, or confrontation for that matter. This led to the two of you not speaking the following morning, or the following two weeks and six days. The team knew something had happened because normally you two were inseparable, but now they were lucky if you could even stay in the same room for more than 30 seconds. You avoided each other, not wanting to be faced with the devastating truth. You came to the conclusion that Spencer’s lack of response was his response. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. Spencer on the other hand felt so guilty about ignoring you, but he knew he would break down if you told him kissing him was a mistake, and for a man who relied on facts and statistics, he wasn’t willing to face the truth.

And I don't know what night it is

You're somewhere else, I'm drinking not to guess

It had been three weeks of avoiding each other and the team knew that they had to do something.

“Hey! Why don’t we all go and get drinks!”, Penelope suggested after a taxing case. It had been a long time since the whole team did something fun together, and they thought this way they could get you two drunk enough to finally tell them what was going on.

“I-I don’t really feel like it…”, Spencer said softly as he grabbed his coat and bag.

“Oh come on pretty boy! It’ll be fun!”, Derek said as he patted Spencer on the back.

“I could definitely afford to get wasted”, you huffed, sneaking a glare at Spencer. He avoided your glance and reluctantly agreed to go for a little while.

When you all got to the bar, you and Spencer sat as far away from each other as possible. He slowly sipped on a beer as you, JJ, Emily, and Penelope went to the bar to order. He watched as you downed a line of shots, and he sunk further into his seat. 

You did four shots, gaining amazed, and slightly concerned looks from the girls. They knew whatever happened must have been really bad because you clearly wanted to forget everything.

“Whoo! Come on! Let’s dance!”, they couldn’t say no to that, so the four of you made your way to the dance floor. Penelope traded a knowing look at Derek who joined her. Spencer sat and watched as you all danced and jumped around, a light sheen of sweat forming on your forehead. You looked so beautiful and free, he thought to himself, but he quickly pushed the thought away and took a swig of beer.

You wanted so desperately to forget about Spencer, who discarded your entire friendship over one stupid night, but you couldn’t. The way the dim lights outlined his face made your heart race. All you wanted was to kiss him again. You had to do something to get your mind off of him. You thought the alcohol would help, but your intoxicated state was only making your feelings stronger.

Blurry bodies, but you're on my mind

We let it go now I'm full of rum and regret

I go out just so I can reforget

You jumped as you felt a hand on your waist. You turned to see a tall, handsome man with smirking eyes. Normally when in this situation you would tell the guy to fuck off because honestly you were repulsed by any guy who felt the need to grab a random woman’s waist at a bar. However, tonight, you found the unwarranted touch empowering. This is what you needed, you told yourself, some guy to help you forget about Spencer. 

Spencer’s eyes grew with anger as he saw the guy, who wasn’t him, dance up against you. He ran his hands all over your body, causing Spencer’s blood to boil. The worst part was that you seemed to be enjoying it. Normally when a guy approaches you at the bar, you find Spencer so he’ll give up and move onto some other girl. You always made Spencer feel special because he knew you trusted him to keep you safe. But now, seeing you grind against that arrogant man, in a way he has never seen you move before, was more than he could handle.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing you would regret it in the morning, but it felt nice to be desired after three weeks of Spencer ignoring you. That’s why, when the guy pressed his lips against yours, you reciprocated will full force. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”, he whispered in your ear. You nodded, using all your willpower to not turn around and look at Spencer. He didn’t want you. He made that very clear. Why shouldn’t you go home with this guy? He was hot, a good kisser...not as good as Spencer...No! Stop! This is good. This is what you need.

Spencer felt a single tear roll down his cheek as that man kissed you. The salty taste consumed his mouth as he watched you leave the bar, your hands interlocked. He watched your blurred silhouettes leave as he broke down in tears. 

Two more footsteps on the wood floor, but it ain't you

I'm faded so I bring someone home

You opened the door to your apartment and he pushed you up against the wall, tracing your body with kisses. You moaned at the sensation, but when you closed your eyes, all you could see what Spencer. 

The guy, whose name you still hadn’t even bothered to find out, began to lift your top, running his fingers on your bare waist. At this, all you could think about was how much you wished that this guy was Spencer. Fuck, you thought, as tears brimmed your eyes. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m just really tired…”, you said as you pushed the guy off of you.

“Oh, okay”, he forced a smile to hide his disappointment.

You walked to your bedroom, tears running down your cheeks, hoping he would just take the hint and leave. As you closed your bedroom door, you heard your front door close. You laid down on your bed and let yourself do the one thing you wouldn’t let yourself do all night: think about Spencer.

Already paying for tonight

Head spins like a carousel, over and over

Spencer had left not long after you. He made his way back to his apartment, where the only images protruding his brain were of you under that guy and him making you feel the way Spencer wanted to make you feel. He couldn’t get the thought of you moaning some other guy’s name out of his head. 

He tried to sleep but it was no use. Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was you. That’s it, he thought. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to go see you. He looked over at his alarm clock: 3:28 am. Well, at least at this point he wouldn’t interrupt whatever activities the two of you had gotten up to. God, he hoped he wouldn’t walk in on that.

The short drive to your apartment felt like a lifetime. He thought about what he would say, how he would explain himself. He wanted you to know how much you mean to him, even if you didn’t feel the same. 

I never thought a sunrise

Could burn more than a midnight without you

You had been trying to sleep for hours, but it was no use. Images of Spencer filled your head. You were still pissed at him for ignoring you for the past few weeks, but to be honest, what hurt more was how empty you felt without him next to you. You missed how he would lay his head on your shoulder when he would fall asleep on the jet after long cases, you missed hearing his laugh every time you made a stupid joke at your desks, but mostly, you just missed talking to your best friend.

Spencer finally made it to your apartment and was relieved to not be greeted with any muffled moans. He stood at your door for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He scrounged up an ounce of courage and put his knuckles to your door. 

You jolted up as you heard a knock at your door. Confused, and exhausted from crying, you quickly wiped away your tears and headed for the door. Shock set in as you saw who it was.

When you opened the door, Spencer was met with your red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. His hair was more disheveled than normal, like he had been running his hands through it, which he always did when he was overwhelmed on a case. 

“What are you doing here?”, you croaked out, annoyance lacing your voice, after a few moments of silence. Spencer looked you up and down and his eyes softened at your current state. His heart twinged at the sight of you so upset. He secretly hoped you were only upset because of him and not because that idiot guy did something to hurt you when he wasn’t there for you.

“I just, I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, and I’m sorry”, he paused, waiting for your reaction. When you just stood there, unsure of what to say, he continued, “Are you okay? You-”

“Okay?!”, you cut him off, “Am I okay?! I don’t know Spence! Would you be okay if your best friend ignored you for three weeks just because of one stupid mistake?!” The pain in your voice broke through the anger as you choked back tears. It hurt him to see you in this much pain, especially because of something he did, but, what sent a sharp twinge through his heart, was hearing you admit that it was a mistake. He knew you would regret it. He should never have come. He turned to leave before you could see his own tears forming.

“Oh that’s it! Just leave me again!”, you sobbed. He snapped his head back around.

“Well, I’m sorry! But don’t you get it! I didn’t ignore you just to be a jerk! I can’t stand to look at you without breaking down. I’m- I’m sorry that I love you so much that it physically pains me to know you don’t feel the same.” You just stare at him, your eyes growing wider. “God, (y/n), I’m sorry but you can’t blame me for not wanting to talk to you after you realized kissing me was such a horrible thing. I’m sorry I’m not as hot or good of a dancer as that guy at the bar. And I’m sorry that seeing you leave with him and do who knows what literally kills me inside”, by now Spencer was sobbing. You still couldn’t bring yourself to react, still shocked by what he had said: he loves you.

Spencer let out a sigh and turned to leave again, only this time you grabbed his arm, just like that night three weeks ago, and placed a kiss to his lips. He quickly pulled away, not knowing whether you did it out of pity or to make fun of him.

“Spence…”, you looked into his eyes, “I never said kissing you was a mistake. C’mon, you’re the one who has an eidetic memory”. You expected him to at least let out a chuckle, but he replied sternly.

“You just said that night was a ‘stupid mistake’”, he huffed. Your face softened and you took a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean kissing you was a mistake”, you whispered, “I just-when you left after kissing me, I just-I thought”, you sighed, “I was so confused Spencer, cause that was the best kiss of my entire life, and then when you left and wouldn’t respond to my texts, I just assumed you didn’t want anything to do with me.” When he still didn’t say anything, you asked, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”, he sheepishly asked.

“That you love me”, you said with a small smile. He finally looked you in the eye and mirrored your grin.

“Of course I love you, (y/n)”, he admitted matter of factually. You were about to kiss him again when he backed away and asked, “Wait, what exactly happened between you and that guy from the bar…”

“Oh”, you let out a coy laugh, “Sorry you had to see that… We came back here, but nothing happened. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much I wished it was you instead of him-”

“Really?”

“Of course… Spence...I love you too. That’s why I kissed you. When I pulled away at first it wasn’t because I was sorry I did it, I just was sorry in case I made you uncomfortable because I- I didn’t want to lose you…”

Spencer stared at you before enveloping you in a hug and wrapping one hand around your waist and the other in your hair. You placed your arms around his shoulders and rubbed your thumb on the back of his neck.

“I promise, you’re never going to lose me again”, he said as he kissed your head. You looked up at him and brought him in for a kiss. This one was just as passionate as the one you shared all those weeks ago, only it was gentler and more sensual. You grasped each other as if your lives depended on it. You continued your kiss as your salty tears mixed with the taste of alcohol in your mouths, but neither of you cared. When you finally broke apart for air, you embraced each other in another hug.

“Let’s go to bed”, you whispered in his ear. Spencer hummed in response and picked you up, earning a loud giggle from you. He put you down on the bed and crawled in with you. He pulled you close to his chest as you placed your face in the crook of his neck. The two of you closed your eyes and were finally able to sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, comforted by the presence of one another.

[a-purple-lizard]

Could you please do a Kabal x F!Reader

Where the reader hates the fact that he’s in the black dragons but she still loves him. So could you please write something of a love and hate relationship

With smut please 🥺

Swift dragon

Kabal x female reader

[This post is NSFW]

I’m am SO sorry this took so long, I had major writers block with this one. Personally, kabal isn’t my cup of tea, I’ve just never got the appeal to him, but I hope I did him justice.

But seriously, if anybody has any Kabal tips, please tell me! I would greatly appreciate it!

[FINAL WARNING, NSFW BELOW THE LINE]

Cold wind blew through the rugged streets, whistling as it passed through poorly made shacks and campfires. At least a hundred people, including small children and babies, were gathered around the small fires. Their clothes were little more than rags. Suddenly, a woman approached out of the darkness.

She held out her palm, allowing the homeless people of outworld to hastily take the food she has offered them. S/o smiled sadly at the children who attempted to give their food to their parents, only to be rejected. She wished she had enough to feed all of them.

After she ran out of the bread that she handed out, she swiftly climbed up only a nearby rooftop. The air stunk with smoke and human waste. “What’s up s/o? Come to visit me?”

Her heart jolted from her chest, turned around, tackling the man with a hug. He yelped at the sudden contact as s/o peppered his face with kisses. The two turned into a giggling mess as s/o sat up, straddling his thighs. Her smile suddenly melted into bitter resentment when she saw the black dragon uniform. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, kabal, how many children did you steal from today?” She asked coldly, getting off of him. Kabal quickly scrambled to his feet, following her to the edge of the building.

“H-hey! What’s up with that accusation?” He demanded, sitting beside her, his legs dangling off the edge.

“A month ago, half these people lived in small houses. When Kano and his goons started to charge a “protection fee” they were reduced to living out here in the cold.” Her tone held an edge to it. “So tell me kabal, when you were out collecting, how many kids did you see?”

The way kabal grimaced and turned away reminded s/o of a child who knew he was wrong was but too stubborn to admit it. “It's just business, babe. Nothin personal.”

“You’re right, it isn’t personal. Who the hell cares about starving civilians? Not the emperor, not Kano, and sure as hell not you.” Her cold voice growled. “Just business, they’re just numbers to you, specifically check numbers.”

Suddenly, s/o let out a grunt as she was pinned to the ground. Kabal stared down at her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t you put that on me.”

“Oh I’m sorry, is reality ruining your little bad boy with a cause complex?” She yelled, struggling against him, “wake the fuck up, look around, these are real people, like you and me, that you are hurting!”

“Why are you so worried about what I do!? Why can’t you just mind your own damn business!?” He yelled, his grip bruising her wrist.

“Because I love you goddammit!” S/o cried out, kabal froze at her words, grip loosening. The woman below him had tears running down her face, “I love you, more than you know. Watching you burn away your soul like this… it hurts. You’re a good guy, but Kano is corrupting you! And you’re letting him!”

Kabals eyes drifted from her for a second, clouding over with some unfamiliar emotion. The raging storm within his soul was put on pause by a soft hand on his cheek. S/o gave him a weak look. “Please, Kabal, listen. Leave the black dragon, leave Kano.”

“It isn’t that easy.” He mumbled, easing his lower body onto hers. The weight was comforting to s/o as she lifted her head to place a soft kiss into his lips. The man quickly returned it, passionately and desperate. His fingers locked around hers, pressing her down harder beneath him.

Kabals lips broke from hers and latched onto her throat. He hummed as he dragged his mouth across her skin, the rhythmic sound was intoxicating. “No, but I can make it easier.” She whispered.

A startled groan tumbled from his mouth as an knee pressed up between his thighs. S/o could feel the hardness of him through his pants. With agonizingly slow movements, she rubbed her leg up and down. His grip tightened with a growl.

“Is this your way of persuading me?” He grunted, grinding onto her leg. His mouth broke away from her flesh, he looked down atp her, eyes clouded with lust. “Cause it just might work.”

S/o leaned upwards, planting a soft kiss on his lips before pushing him back. The man fell on his back with an oof. Before kabal could even make sense of the action, s/o was atop him.

Placing a hand down onto him, she gently cupped his cheek. He sighed and leaned into it ever so slightly. “Promise me.”

Her thighs clenched around his wait as she steadily grinded into him. He grunted and tried to buck his hips up in pleasure. “I’ll only let you have me, if you promise to leave the black dragon.”

“B-babe- fuck. This is hardly fair, cmon- ah!” S/o slid her hand under her, massaging the hardness between his legs. Kabal seethed and writhed, nails digging into the ground. His eyes rolled back as she unzipped his pants, allowing her fingers to slip in.

Kabal tried to sit up, hand reaching for her breast, only to he pushed back down with her free hand. “Touch me, and I’ll stop.”

Helpless groans and pleas fell from his mouth, turning into moans of pleasure as her hands continued. She rubbed, squeezed and even licked the piece of flesh in her hand, watching each reaction as she did. “Fuck, s/o I’m close.”

Speeding up her movements, he was practically fucking her fist as he arched his back, mouth agape. He was so close only a little more-

Her touch quickly disappeared just as his high was at its brink. The man whined, trying to touch himself, but s/o didint allow him. “S/o, please, cmon.”

“Not until you promise me!” Her hands crashed on either side of his head, staring into his eyes. Her gaze held anger, sadness, regret, love? “You’re better then this, I know you are. Please.”

“I’ll- I’ll only take jobs that don’t hurt civilians, how about that?” He rasped out, at a lost for breath. “I won’t do anymore protection frees, I’ll just do regular old assassination jobs, only for people who deserve it. Bad people.”

S/o frowned, but the heat of her gaze had subsided, she sighed. “I suppose that’s the most I can get out of you at the moment.” Closing her eyes, she rolled on her back beside him. “You better get the most out of me. While I’m still around.”

Despite the threat, Kabal could hear true despair in her tone. She really did love him. Guilt clouded Kabal as he mounted her thighs. Normally there was no slow moments of intamcy, only a deep connection of mutual unspoken passion as they mercilessly merged their body’s. Tonight, that would be different.

S/o flinched in surprise when she felt a soft, pleading kiss flutter on her lips. Her wide eyes stared up as his desperate gaze. There was genuine fear and sadness. “Kabal?”

“Hey, look.” His voice was breathless as he spoke. “You are, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You have treated me like a human being, which is more then I can say for others. I know, I’m a scum bag, I know I’m everything you’re not. But at the end of the day, you love me, no matter what I do.”

S/o smiled up at him, “I try to hate you, but everytime I try, I just end up loving you more.”

Kabal laughed, giving her a smug look, “guess I’m just that good lookin.” That earned a playful elbow in the back. He laughed once again, “ok, ok, I’ll shut up now. I’ll make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” S/o smiled as Kabal started to unbutton her shirt, exposing cleavage as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Yeah.” His lips connected with hers in a kiss. Hands crept down her body, fingertips tracing her skin, grabbing onto her thighs and separating them. Kabal placed himself between her legs, his pants were still unzipped, his problem was out in the cold air.

Kabal hovered atop her, kiss becoming much more heated as she bit his lip, demanding he give her entrance. He smugly chuckled, holding back a remark as her tongue assaulted his. After a short battle of dominance, s/o was declared the winner as she hastily explored his wet cavern.

Ripping her shirt open and unclipping her bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side, kabals mouth ripped from her kiss and latched into her breast. S/o released a whiny moan, nails digging into his back as began to lick and suck all over. His tongue traced her skin, searching her the right spot.

Her mouth opened with a gasp as Kabal located a tender scrap of skin and began to abuse it. Biting down in it, only to suck it between his teeth. That was definitely going to leave a Mark.

S/o grinded upwards into his exposed groin. The man moaned slightly, hand reaching down to unzip her pants. His fingers slipped past her panties and into her soaked folds of sensitive flesh. He rubbed and slid his fingers around each crevice, leaving s/o a pleading mess. “Fuck... just fucking do it already.”

“As my girl commands.” He teased breathlessly, positioning himself at her entrance. His fingers took hold of her wrist, pinning them above her head as he entered her at an agonizingly slow pace, allowing himself to stretch out her inner walls. S/o writhed beneath him, clumsy moans dripping from her mouth.

He then proceeded to fuck her brains out. He was FAST like, ridiculously fast. Not superpower fast, but it was clear that he was going to make s/o pay for her teasing.

Hands tangled in hair and nails dug into skin as he drilled into her. She early met his thrust with her own, hips slamming hard enough to leave bruises. Neither of them cared.

Leaning over, his mouth assaulted hers, this time he took complete control of her mouth, invading it as he pleased. The two groaned into the kiss as his thrust became heavier, slower, sloppier.

S/o was left gasping for air as Kabal left her mouth, his saliva decorating her lips. He trailed down kisses from the corner of her mouth to the crook of her neck. His teeth met her flesh, biting and sucking.

They were both getting close already. S/o cried out each time he slammed into her, her face was pure ecstasy. “Kabal! Fuck... I’m-“

“Yeah, me too babe.” He rasped out, grip tightening as his thrust became desperate and rough until finally the knot in s/o’s stomach snapped. The two slammed their faces together, keeping eachother grounded as their release washed over them.

Kabal let go of her wrist, his hands tangling themselves in her hair. One hand drifted down to her side to rub comforting circles in her flesh. His chest steady rose up and down, the rhythmic movement against her made s/o relax her body unde him.

The high started to go down as they broke away. They simply remained still as they caught their breaths. Kabals raspy gulps of air turned into a cocky chuckle, “sombody enjoyed that.”

S/o was too exhausted to playfully slap him, instead she just gave him a look which earned a laugh. “Shut up and take me to wherever your staying. I’m tired.”

“Oh, so we can fuck on the rooftop with pigeons staring at us, but sleeping here? That’s fucking disgusting.” That one gave her the strength to slap him.

[michiieewrites]

Shigaraki - Grind On Me (fic)

WARNING: SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: So last week had this dream about Shiggy and things got heavy and heated very fast, so this fic is based on that. I hope you will all like this fic. If you want more, don’t be shy to slide into my inbox, I don’t bite :D Anyway, enjoy!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hurried footsteps slip inside. You follow the white haired man into the living roo. Once inside, you both feel the tension leave your bodies. Even if your chances of getting caught are rising with the minute, all you are is curious. You were both supposed to be in class at your college, but today is ditch-day.

You’ve never been in the Shigaraki-home before. Tomura never invited you over and you weren’t one to pry. He was your friend and you knew that he had a hard time letting himself be vulnerable around others. Give him the time he needs and he’ll slowly unravel the mess of strings inside his heart.

Looking around the living room, you could kind of guess why he never invited you. Everything was… big. Not in size, but in stature. From the outside, the house looked decent enough. Clean and obviously for a wealthy family. But nothing too crazy, nothing that stood out. The inside however, showed that the family that resides here is just straight up filthy rich. Dark wood decorated the interior, the walls filled with classic European art, even the chandelier was covered in crystals.

Turning around, you are met with carmine eyes. His eyes are studying you, trying to read your reaction. When his gaze falls away from your face, he walks over to the wine colored couch behind you. He sits down, leaning back and spreading his legs. The expression he wears tells you that he’s waiting for you to say something.

“It’s uh… I bet it fits your father’s taste,” you tentatively say.

A couple of seconds are filled with silence. Tomura nods. “Yeah, he says it’s shows the importance of our family. I think he just likes to ‘look’ at his money.”

You only met the man once, when he was waiting in the car while you and Tomura browse through the game store. He seemed like the type of man who wasn’t easily impressed. The look he shot you was that of someone who thought others should be beneath them. Someone with a goal ahead and the ability to make it happen, no matter the cost. Sometimes your friend would tell you a little about the path his father had laid out for him. At times, he listened to his father and his plans. At times, he would curse him to Hell and beyond. And at times, he just didn’t know what else there was to life, so he just went along with what others expected of him.

You sit down beside him. Your hand lies on his wrist and his eyes are pulled to the action. Because of his quirk, he was very cautious with touching others. But with you, the risk was worth it. It was worth it to feel the tips of your fingers touch his skin.

“Well, I’m very grateful that you invited me to your home, Tomura.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be swayed by the money my father has.”

In time, you had learned to sometimes read between the lines of his words. This time it meant that he trusted you not to suck up his father’s ass. That you would actually want to be around him for the person he really is. It made your heart squeeze in happiness for being allowed to closer each day.

Just as you pull your hand away from his wrist, you notice the tag of his shirt is out. You tuck it back in his shirt, your fingers grazing his neck. A startled gasp leaves his throat. He whips his head to look straight at you. You quickly pull your hand back.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out.

His chest is falling and rising quickly, signaling his panting. “Do it again.”

You aren’t sure you heard that right. “W-what?”

“You heard me,” he said. Leaning over to your side, his arm going behind your back and pulling you closer at the same time. “I told you to do that again, Y/N. Touch my neck.”

Gingerly, your hand reaches out. The pads on your fingers press against his scratched up neck and the action makes him leans his head back, letting a soft groan. A little more daring, you decide to let your fingers travel along his neck. Your fingers press down, a feeling too light to massage any muscle. Only to make their presence known to his body.

You feel movement on the couch and instinctively look down to see Tomura bucking up his hips ever so slightly. His neck exposed, his whole body reacting to your touch. You can feel the fire slowly spreading from your fingertips up your arms, all the way up to your chest. Looking back up, you see lidded eyes watching you closely. Daring you to continue your adventure.

So you do. Crawling into his lap, your legs on both of his sides. With his own legs already spread wide, he has to hold on to you. Pulled as close to his chest as possible, one of his hands travels down your side. His touch is lighter than silk, rougher than an unpolished diamond. With his pinky lifted up, his hand rests just above your ass.

Now both your hands are touching his neck. Making a path down to his collarbones, exploring more unmapped territory. Maintaining the eye contact, you have to ask: “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Pressing his pelvis up against you, he lets out a longer groan this time. “Fuck, yes. Don’t tell me you never thought about it?”

In truth, you have. The pull you felt when you two sit closely next to each other. The comfort each other’s presence gave to the other. The intimacy of just enjoying each other’s company together. Grazes of simple touches lingering a little too long. The body heat that is shared from standing too close to each other. The trust between you two makes it easier to break down every wall. The protectiveness when you’re too far apart.

All these thoughts run wild through your head and it shows on your face. How your eyes fall down from his immodest stare to his lips. Emotions like an open book and all Tomura can focus on right now is how good it feels to touch. To touch you, to be more precise.

His free hand goes holds onto the back of your head and pushes your lips to his own. Cracked lips press against soft ones, not too fast or too slow. He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and he tastes the mint chocolate ice cream you had earlier that day. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers your hands going back over his shoulder and down his back.

Wanton noises are heard throughout the living room. The temperature of your body is rising and you just know you need to feel something, anything that can restrain this heat. Your body has a mind of it’s own and grinds back down on Tomura. The man beneath pulling back from your kissing to let out a filthy and loud moan.

“Fuck Y/N! Fuck fuck fuck, yes, just keeping doing that.”

His breathing becoming more labored. The hand against your head entangles itself in your hair while the other one presses your body down. Following his movements, you grind yourself against the growing bulge in his pants. You place a kiss on the little mole next to his mouth and slowly make their way down his chin to his neck. You pay a little extra attention to the spots he keeps scratching himself.

Tomura moves his hand to hold on just beneath your ass, his fingers tracing along the swell. Mumbles of ‘good girl’, ‘right there’, while occasionally tugging on your hair. The vibrations of your moans against his skin. He grows more and more impatient with the way your body moves on top of him, but he doesn’t dare stop the heavenly treatment you’re giving him right now.

His pants are getting too tight. Even through the layers of clothing he can feel the heat of your pussy. Practically feeling how wet you’re getting. His own precum now staining his boxers. The plum weight of your ass in his hand, your mouth sucking on his skin. The occasional whimper being voiced. The need for feeling more of him coursing through your body.

As the minutes tick by, your movements becoming more desperate, trying to feel up the other as much as possible. Your hips have set up a pace of their own, your nails clawing at Tomura’s back to hold on. Your mind occupied by thoughts of how good you could really make him feel if this went on any longer. You don’t wanna stop. Only being spurred on by the feeling of your pussy grinding on his stiffening cock.

His lips constantly kissing your hair and whispering filthy things to you. “I finally have you riding yourself in my lap,” he whispers.

Your response muffled by the bite you hold on his neck. Sucking and licking over the new bruise. “I’m not the only one humping like a horny mess, Tomu.”

Pressing down just a little harder to hear that delicious groan of him. “Ah, you’re right, Y/N. But who knew you’d be such a nasty little bitch? Dry humping her best friend on his father’s couch?”

“And who knew his father would come home early today?”

The new voice startles the both of you. Both your heads look to see who it is. You don’t know what’s worse; being interrupted while making out or being interrupted by Mr. Shigaraki. Filled with shame, you try to get up from Tomura’s lap, but are being held back by his arms around your waist.

Sure, he respected his father, but right now Tomura wished he would perish on the spot. How dare he interrupt this moment between Y/N and him? Your face is burying itself against his shoulder, your body curling up in itself in his lap.

How dare his adoptive father make you feel like hiding yourself?

Smirking, a plan is forming in his mind. Still keeping you locked in his arm, he shifts you around a little till the older man has a good view of what’s between his legs. Looking AFO dead in the eyes, he starts palming himself.

“Unless you wanna see my dick out and proudly fucking Y/N here, I suggest you leave the same way you came. You got 5 seconds,” Tomura says.

For a moment nobody moves. Not until Tomura starts unbuttoning his pants, does AFO turn around and walk out the front door. Reveling in his victory, he turns his attention back to you. His eyes filled with primal longing and care. His tongue swiping over his lips, a promise of how the muscle can pleasure you.

“Now where were we, my little vixen?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***Please let me know if you liked this ending, thank you!

Tagged: @mrsreina​ / @reinawritesbnha​ @thots4daze​ / @kzombi3​ @league-of-villians-headcanons​ / @probablydysfunctionalvindication​ @aizawascumslut​ @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @ravenfeet222​ @strawbirb​

[yunhoiseyecandy]

𝟽 ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ (ᴍ)

✕ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴘ.ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

✕ ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟷.𝟿ᴋ

✕ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴘɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ɴᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ

✕ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ — ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ꜱᴇx ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜɪɢʜꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ, ᴀᴛ ᴀ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪᴏʀ

─────

here you were again, at some useless party that your friends dragged you to. you were never a fan of parties just because the thought of drunk, teenage bodies and random strangers making out in the corner never was really your way to de-stress.

 sure, some people made fun of you for always being stuck inside your dorm and not “socializing enough”, but what did that matter? while you were in bed studying for a final, your roommate was out at one of the local’s parties, which she seemed to do pretty often.

you never really thought much about the teasing and harassment, but tonight was one of those nights. the nights where you had to study because something in you kept letting you know that if you didn’t you would fail. so when your roommate came home and started bugging you again about being such a bookworm, you’d finally had enough.

"if I say yes to going to some lame party with you tomorrow, will you please stop bugging me?” the number of emotions you saw cross her face was too many to count. “wait, really?!” “yes, but you have to promise to never leave my side” “mhm sure, whatever” “ I need you to promise me, okay..” she paused, letting a couple seconds of silence lay between the both of you before she spoke up saying, “I promise!”, before running out the door to go get a drink with one of her friends.

you huffed when you realized that she most likely won’t keep her promise. you had finished your assignment, closing your laptop before lulling yourself to sleep, oblivious to the actions about to take place tomorrow. 

your day went on as if it were any other day, up until it was time to get ready for the party. “you’re going in that?” your friend said as you finished pulling on your jeans, unbuttoning your grey cardigan at the top. “is there something wrong with it?”, she gawked at you as if you had just tried talking to a plant.

“oh, I don’t know just- everything?” you pouted at her words, wondering if you really did look as bad as she’d made it seem. you never really took the way you dressed that seriously, always putting your studies first. “girl you look like a damn grandma, come here-” “no I don’t-”

about an hour and a half later of throwing clothes around the room and then deciding you’d go in something she had, she pulls you in front of her mirror asking you if you like it. “it’s… different. but I don’t hate it.” she smirked before pulling out some mascara and lipgloss. “you’re already pretty, but they’ll just enhance your features” you’ve never really worn makeup before.

sure maybe once or twice, but she was putting on so much of it- too much of it. “I don’t know about this. what if people stare?” she had finished applying the lipgloss, asking you to stand back and look in the mirror, saying you look fine and maybe you’ll get laid. you had a pretty strapless dark pink dress on with a simple leather jacket hanging over your shoulders, some black boots that tied the outfit together.

“oOo what about seonghwa, you still like him right? I’m pretty sure he’ll be there tonight!” you gasped, moving to swat at her arm, but she sadly dodged it. “he would never even look my way.” you had a crush on seonghwa since senior year of high school, never even trying to get his attention since you knew it’d never work out. 

-time skip-

“who’s house even is this?” you asked when you guys pulled up to some random house, walking up the stairs and closing the door behind you. “It’s yunhos, you’ve heard of him, right? he’s a super sweet guy, and really good in bed. lemme tell you, he’s so good with his fingers and tongue, oh god. and he’s so big I-“ you didn’t give her a chance to finish before you went over to a stand with some (what you assumed to be juice, but were not) drinks.

you picked up one of the cups that were lined up, smelling it before you put it down because it smelled like pure alcohol. you decided to play it safe and go with a water bottle that was in a cooler along with some beer bottles. “hey, do you want water or something else-” you cut yourself off when you realized that your friend was no longer in sight. “that son of a bitch.” you cursed lowly under your breath. “guess I’m alone for the night, that’s just fucking great. so much for promising to stay with me.” 

since you had nobody to talk to, you decided to make the most of your night and explore the rest of the house. walking upstairs, you had a hard time trying to not trip over all the people standing at the bottom, but you managed. the first room you decided to explore looked like it belonged to someone that did not care about cleanliness. you got claustrophobic easily so you quickly decided to move on to the next room.

this one was far more pleasant to walk around in. the bed was made, and a fresh basket of clothing was placed at the edge of it. you noticed that they had a lot of frames hanging up, so you decided to see if you recognized any of the people in the pictures. your eyes widened when you realized that you were in- “what are you doing in here? If you haven’t noticed, the party’s downstairs, sweetheart.” you stepped back from the frames, a blush creeping up your face.

“I-I’m sorry seonghwa, I didn’t know this was your room,” he looked at you for a second before saying that you should get out, and to which you quickly agreed to. you rushed downstairs, your friend calling your name asking you to play a game with her and a couple of friends.

-time skip-

“shouldn’t there be more people?” a guy named wooyoung asked. “yeah, they should be here in a few minutes.” you laughed at mingi when he responded. you could just hear the annoyance laced in his voice. you couldn’t blame him because wooyoung had asked the same question fifty times within the span of five minutes. “I wonder who else is coming, we already have about thirteen people, how much more do we need?” your tone was laced with annoyance. you’d all been waiting thirty minutes on one single person. who could possibly be that important? 

and as if on cue, the last person you wanted to see right now walks through the door. “eyy finally, man! what were you doing, folding clothes?” everyone except for you and seonghwa laughed at sans joke, seonghwa shaking his head in annoyance. “can we just get this over with already?” he asked, clearly over this whole idea already. “yeah, of course. who’s ready to play?” yunho said, trying to calm all the voices in the room.

“we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven, right?” jongho asked, nodding when yeosang shook his head yes. your heart dropped. 7 minutes in heaven? you’ve played games before, but never one like this. “girl, I think I’ll pass,” you begged your friend to let you go, but she just pulled you to the ground. everyone followed, sitting in a circle on the floor. “so… who wants to spin first?”

about ten minutes passed before you had to spin and to not only yours but everyone else’s surprise, it landed on the one and only park seonghwa. your eyes widened before your eyes slowly met his, only to be met with no emotion in them. “I-I think I’ll pass.” “girl no, you have to go! It’s park fucking seonghwa!” Your friend whisper yelled at you. “I-I can’t-”, but before you could object, seonghwa was pulling you up by your arm and into the closet, shutting it behind him.

it was silent for a moment before you heard Jongho yell, “I don’t hear anything going on. are you guys just going to stand there or-” “shut up!” you’ve never heard seonghwa yell before, but you’re not gonna lie- it was kinda hot. “we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want t-” that was all you were able to get out before seonghwa was shoving you up against the wall, pinning both of your hands above your head and whispering lowly into your ear. “are you kidding me? I’ve been waiting for this since 12th grade.”

you gasped when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth, releasing your wrists so he could pull down your panties. “s-seonghwa, ah fuck,” you screamed when he shoved two fingers into your mouth, him groaning at how fast you took them in. “shit baby, you’re so fucking good for me. I bet your pussy's soaked right now, all for me, right?” you moaned, begging him. “fuck I need you so bad, please.” 

he quickly pulled his fingers out of you, turning you around. you heard the sound of his belt, and then you heard his pants fall to the ground. he pulled his cock out of his trousers, opening the condom and sliding it on. “do you want me as much as I want you?” you moaned, grinding back to feel more of him. “yes, fuck please more.” he pulled your hips into him, sliding in easily because of how soaked you were. “ah, shit!” you tried to keep it down because of the thin wall between you and the rest of the group, but you lost all of your senses when his pace quickened. 

“fuck, baby, you like this don’t you? the feeling of people being able to hear you, screaming for me and only me.” he pulled your head back roughly by your hair and sucked on your tongue before spitting on it. “swallow” you swallowed, looking up at him and moaning when he hit that perfect spot inside of you. he groaned, speeding his pace up and reaching his hand down to rub eights around your clit. “fuck I’m close, so fucking close!” you screamed, pushing back onto him to meet his thrusts. “fuck baby that’s it, cum on my cock. just like that, doll face.” he felt you clench around him, him releasing into to condom before pulling out slowly.

kissing your shoulder, he pulled his underwear and pants up. “guys, your time’s up!” yunho yelled to let you guys know to come out. you pulled your underwear up, not sparing a single glance at seonghwa. you opened the door and left the room to go clean up, ears burning when you felt eyes burning into your back.

-last time skip- 

“how was he?” you groaned before looking over at her, not wanting to talk. “he was good, leave it” “oh come on, I’m just asking a question-” just as you were about to close your door to the car, seonghwa comes up to you and asks you if you wanted to hang out tomorrow. “why?” you ask, completely puzzled as to why he’d ask you out of all people. “because I like you, and I have for a while now. please?” you contemplated it for a moment.

on one hand, you thought maybe you should give him a chance. but on the other hand, maybe he just wanted you for sex one more time before he completely dropped you. you guess either he read your mind or he could tell how you were feeling because before any more thought could process he smashed his lips on yours. “a real date, baby. not just a hookup.” you smiled a little bit before getting in the car, shutting the door.

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

─────

[honeysidesarchived]

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. ii: they whose lives do not taste of evil ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 2.7k

warnings: none that are chapter specific.

rating: m/t

notes: thank you to everyone who has loved on me and supported me after posting the first part of this! it really makes me so warm and fuzzy inside and i cannot express in words how grateful i am. ♡

as always, thank you to my love @starcrier for being my most wonderful beta. ♡♡

Morning light filters through the curtains in the bedroom. The air conditioning had clicked off moons ago, having decided that the room was at its sufficient temperature; now just a few rays of the sun are warming the carpet on her side, cutting across the cream-colored knit blanket at the foot of the bed. Through the windows, she can hear the bustle of New York—churning, grinding, a beast of its own as it laboriously beneath their own feet.

Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that she hates New York—that she misses the countryside in Italy, that she misses bare feet on grass and warm, dark earth and the sticky-wet of pulling fruit straight from the vine. Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that New York is a beast waiting for her, to swallow her up, teeth ripping through pavement and concrete and brick to bite bite bite until it reaches her.

But not today. Today, Euphemia is not thinking about the Beast. She is thinking only about the fact that Santino’s spot beside her is empty, and then she’s reminded that today he will be wandering out into the world under the Table to ask a man who doesn’t want anything to do with Santino to grant him a favor. To grant Santino what he is owed, as he would prefer it framed.

Euphemia sits up in bed. She’s not sure when it is that she finally fell asleep, but if the drag of exhaustion in her mind is any indication, it wasn’t very long ago. She can’t recall if she dreamt, or if she rested even at all—if she had to guess, she’d think she spent the entire night tossing and turning, restless, with the burning itch of John Wick’s threatening presence looming in her future.

She can hear Santino out in the kitchen; the smell of coffee drifts in through the open door. The blonde slips out of bed to wander out, her footfalls quiet on the plush carpet, and she sees him—dressed, polished up, as though he got a perfect eight hours of sleep. An old song hums through the speakers of the sound system on the entertainment stand.

So much for keeping him distracted, Euphemia thinks ruefully.

“Good morning,” Santino greets, pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on the island counter to scoot it in her direction. “You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have,” Euphie replies, taking the cup in her hands and using it to warm her fingers rather than drinking the coffee. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t feel like I have slept at all.”

“Yes,” he agrees somberly, “you were restless.” His hand reaches up, the pad of his thumb tracing the slope of her jaw. “My little worrier.”

She crinkles her nose at him, finally relenting and taking a sip of her coffee. He’s made it just the way that he knows she likes—strong, rich, cream and no sugar. Santino winds his arms around her and laces his fingers against the small of her back, leaning so that he can get a long, good look at her.

“Well, go on,” he prompts her, eyes glittering playfully. “I know you want to say something to keep me home.”

Euphie’s chest tightens. It’s a little cruel of him; he wants to hear her ask, even though they both know there’s nothing she could say to change his mind. He likes to have her ask just so he can tell her no, and usually, she won’t bite. Not for his ego.

But this is different.

She sets the coffee aside, her hands instead finding his chest, holding on to the lapel of his jacket. She says, “I don’t want you to go, Santi. Please don’t go. We can stay in bed all day, or—what if we went back to Italy? Just for a little while? My mother would like to see you, I know.” Swallowing, Euphie feels her lashes flutter, the desire to let her voice wobble with emotion almost overwhelming. I won’t, she thinks, I won’t cry. “We can do anything you want, but—not this.”

“Sweet Euphie,” Santi sighs, taking her face in his hands. “Così dolce, just for me, aren’t you?” He leans in and kisses her temple; for a split second, she thinks that he might acquiesce, that he might set it aside, even for one day—indulge her, the way that he likes to do. Santino has always wanted her to be selfish with him. When they’d started dating, it took her months to get used to the way he’d buy her anything, cook her anything, give and get her anything, and for a girl who’d had so very little for so long, it had almost been nauseating. She would eat her fill, and Santino would say, more, cara mia? Would you like more? As if he had known that allowing her to indulge herself in the fruits of his world under the Table would curse her to stay, forever.

And here she was. Stuck. Blissfully, dreadfully, wretchedly, sickeningly and wonderfully stuck.

“But no,” he continues, pulling back and tilting her chin up with his fingers. “Business needs to be taken care of before I can relax.”

Euphemia releases a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. It’s not an unexpected response, but she won’t kick herself for trying—not considering the circumstances, considering what he is leaving to do. In anything else, she might have been too proud to say please.

Her fiancé plants a kiss on both of her cheeks. “Drink your coffee,” he commands, his voice light as he grabs his phone and tucks it into his pocket, heading for the door. “What time is the engagement party?”

“Seven,” Euphie replies tiredly. She does as he bids like it’s second nature to her now, taking a drink of the coffee. “Be back by five, Santi.”

His hand is on the handle to the door outside. She thinks she might be sick. He says, “Wear the red dress I like.”

“Maybe. If you behave.”

Santino flashes her a grin from the doorway. She wonders if anyone else is comfortable ordering him around, or if she’s just so accustomed to living with an apex predator that she’s become numb to his dangers.

“Yes, cara mia,” he purrs. “Anything you say.”

Except that isn’t true, she thinks, watching him open the door and greet Ares, who has been waiting—lurking, in the hall to the elevator, like the shadows cut across the floor from the chandelier lights. There is a tiny moment where their eyes meet over Santino’s shoulder, and Euphemia hopes that she might see pity; she’s miserable, after all, knowing that Santino is walking into a slaughterhouse.

As ever, Ares is unreadable. There is only the tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of the corner of her mouth, and then door is closed and Euphemia is alone. And there is a tiny, vicious part of her that says, we ought to get used to being alone. We never should have forgotten it in the first place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Santino is late, and when he shows up, he doesn’t say whether things went well or not.

They must have gone well enough, because he’s alive and in one piece and in a fine enough mood. But that is the problem—his mood is fine. He arrives at his own engagement party in a fine mood, and Euphemia can’t decide what’s more irritating: that he’s late, that he won’t tell her how it went, or that he can’t fake being delighted for a few hours.

“Ah, there’s your man,” Winston says, a smile lifting his expression. The older man had been keeping her company as the hour ticked by and she had to say hello and hi and thank you to every guest attending at Santino’s behest—yet another frustrating detail, Euphemia mentally notes, that he’d bothered all of these folks to show up and didn’t have the decency to arrive on time himself. She’s very certain that Winston did not intend to stay as long as he has, and for that, she feels poorly.

But she’s too irritated to express it properly. “Is that one mine?” Euphie asks lightly, turning her gaze away from Santino striding into the room and getting stopped by guests on his way to her. She twists her untouched champagne flute in her fingers, fixing her gaze back on Winston. “No man of mine would come late to his own party. Not if he wanted to walk out in one piece.”

Winston laughs at her words and gives her hand a pat. “You are a woman after my own heart, Euphemia Volpe.”

“I’ll be accepting applications for the position of my husband shortly, I think.”

She feels Santino’s hand on her waist just before he leans into kiss her cheek; the movement is so quick that she doesn’t have the time to properly avoid his affection, and he almost certainly does that on purpose.

“I am so glad you could come, Winston!” Santino announces, reaching and shaking the older man’s hand. “And that you got to spend some time with my own personal star.” He turns to her now, finally, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Mi dispiace, Euphie, I did try to hurry.”

She tilts her head a little, lifting her chin out of his grasp. “Don’t apologize to me,” Euphemia replies. “Winston is the one you kept waiting.”

Santino grins. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes—or rather, it doesn’t look like the kind of grin that you make when you’re happy. Nothing about him screams happy, future wedded-bliss. Everything looks strained, like someone’s pissed him off and he’s just had to do something about it.

He looks at Winston, dropping his hands. “I’m sorry, truly.”

The man waves his hand, as though it isn’t a big deal—but it is, Euphie knows, at the very least to her; Winston has always treated her kindly, regardless of whose arm she was on-and he puts a hand on Santino’s shoulder. “I only came to say congratulations and see this fine lady, and then I was going to be off. So—congratulations...” His gaze turns to Euphemia. “Miss Volpe.” He kisses both of her cheeks. “Here I have seen you. And I will be on my way.”

Euphie says, “Thank you for coming, Winston. You did not need to wait around for this idiot.”

“I never say no to time with a beautiful lady,” he admonishes, making to leave. “Santino just happens to be here.”

“I will walk you out,” Santino declares. He’s only just arrived, and he smells a little bit like smoke, and he’s carrying with him a strange, frantic energy; but before Euphemia can think to say anything, he’s kissing her—hard, and a little desperate, and she can feel an eerie tremble in his hands before he pulls away and takes her drink out of her hand and swallows the entire thing in one go.

And then he’s off. Walking away with Winston, who looks calm and unbothered by the erratic display (though Winston always looks that way, so it’s no good gauge for Euphemia to tell when something is off). But something is off. As they’re walking, Santino is talking to Winston with a frenetic urgency that translates only in ways she can recognize. To the outside eye, her fiancé is composed, and perhaps a little stressed, his strides collected and tight and his lopsided grin to sharp to be pleasant.

His kiss tastes of ash. She can feel it in her mouth, still, gunpowder and smoke lingering in the palette, but she will not bring herself to think about where it came from.

By the time Santino returns from “walking Winston out”—which probably means talking to Winston about something he doesn’t want Euphie to hear—she has decided to bring it up. She doesn’t know how, yet, but she’s going to do it.

He slides his arms around her as she visits with some of their friends, burying his face into the crook of her neck, like he just can’t stand not to be touching for a second longer. The conversation carries on blithely without her; Euphie reaches up and cradles the side of Santino’s face with her hand, fingers brushing the dark, honeyed curls at his temple. She’s decided to be sweet about it.

“You seem stressed,” she murmurs.

“Not stressed,” Santino replies, speaking the words into her neck. He sways a little, turning her in his arms and pulling her against him so that he can sway her with him. The movements are leisurely in comparison to the energy that he’s carrying; pushing and pulling with the lull of the delicate music playing overhead. It should be a dream, this engagement party. It’s all golden light and warmth billowing from an ornate fireplace, the people that she cares the most about celebrating her and Santino’s love.

Euphemia says, “You smell like smoke.”

It’s not a question, and Santino knows it. He holds one of her hands in his and presses their foreheads together.

“You are so beautiful, Euphie,” he sighs dreamily. He kisses her again—less urgent this time—and she knows what it means: it’s better if she doesn’t ask. She’s going to be a D’Antonio, which means that problems get taken care of for her, and she doesn’t have to worry about following up.

Still, while the warmth of his kiss is distracting and lovely, and the feel of his hands pressing into the base of her spine where the plunging back of the red silk dress he likes the best on her makes her skin break out in delighted goosebumps, she cannot help but think, I should know. I have a right to know what’s going on.

“Santi,” she begins, lower her voice even more, “if something has happened—”

“Nothing has happened,” Santino insists, turning her slowly before drawing her back against him. “Mia piccola volpe, stop fussing. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “Yes,” she replies after a minute, “you did.” But if something has happened, she wants to say, and can’t bring herself to because Santino is kissing her again, pleased with her concise and obedient answer; he kisses her again and again, between breaths, funneling all of his frenzied energy into her instead. He gives it to her to hold, but won’t tell her where it’s come from or why it’s there. Just shoves it into her for safekeeping.

People cat-call and holler and whoop and laugh, and he grins against her mouth, lifting her up against him playfully—just far enough off the ground that she loops her arms around his neck to steady herself, unable to focus on how frustrating it is to be worried, and not know why.

“Ti amo,” Santino rumbles against her collarbone, kissing there reverently. “What do you think about leaving, hm? Sneak out of our own engagement party early, so I can take you home and enjoy you properly?”

It sounds too good, to go home. It sounds too good, because just that morning, she was begging him not to leave.

“I don’t know,” she ventures, smoothing her hand absently over the lapel of his suit jacket once he’s set her back down. “I don’t know, Santi, I...”

Her voice trails off. Ares is by the door. Once, the woman had been a comfort to her; now, she’s a reminder of this traitorous thing Santino has done, this thing that sits between them but only he can see and touch and feel, and Euphie just has to suffer the consequences of it one way or another.

“Come on, cara mia,” he coaxes, drawing her eyes back to him, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “We can do whatever you want.”

There must be something he isn’t telling me, she thinks. Something that’s blown his pupils wide until the black at them is eating away at the gorgeous jade green of his irises. Something dreadful, that he knows she’ll hate. That she’ll fuss about.

The question sits there, just on the tip of her tongue. What about Wick? she wants to ask. But she already knows that he won’t tell her, and she is learning quickly not to ask.

Ignorance is bliss, anyway.