#i scheduled this to post at the same time the prev did

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

happy 10 year anniversary to 'those are his hooves you bitch'

[reyalvr]

SHE’S MINE | 02

-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊ 3.2k

author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D 

p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)

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YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board. 

Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier. 

��I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.” 

He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”

“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”

He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”

“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”

“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”

You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk. 

“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him. 

“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”

“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness. 

“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”

You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”

“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?” 

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails. 

“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.

“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard. 

You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.” 

At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.

His choice.

Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do. 

Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same. 

Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato. 

You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.” 

Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”

You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.” 

He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”

“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”

“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond. 

“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly. 

“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.” 

He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous. 

Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good. 

“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly. 

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”

You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him. 

“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door. 

“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.

A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you. 

You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there. 

You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city. 

Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good. 

You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?

WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.

The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade. 

Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?

Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”

She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked. 

You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:

Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed! 

What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible. 

“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”

“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”

You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem. 

“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”

“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”

“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside. 

“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from. 

“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse. 

You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand. 

In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was. 

You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.

A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something. 

You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang. 

KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm. 

One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”

Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space. 

He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.

Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.

“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”

“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath. 

“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 7)

summary: you and hugh navigate the new aspects of your relationship while filming continues, and it includes consistent gym sessions. meanwhile, someone from your past reaches out to you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: bit of angst / smut (18+), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), brief insecurity and mention of age gap, smut (public sex - in the gym oops!, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving) no use of y/n. word count: 3.7k a/n: and we're back with these two in the gym! i just love writing hugh in the gym as it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of ever meeting him in the gym myself lol. hope y'all enjoy - we're gonna slowly transition into some angst... so stay tuned! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You’re looking down at your phone, staring at the picture Hugh posted last night of the both of you. You can see the comments and have read quite a handful already. You know what to expect, but it still doesn’t lessen the hurt that you feel in the pit of your stomach when you glance over the negative comments. 

And most, if not all, mention the age gap. It had never been an issue to either of you, but now that other people have taken notice, you can’t help but wonder if Hugh thinks the same. 

He’s calling out to you, a bag slung over his shoulder as he’s dressed in a navy blue tank top and shorts. You’re both scheduled to meet with Ryan and Shawn at the gym for a quick session before filming continues tomorrow. You had jumped at the chance to join them, yearning to be at the gym and get a good workout in. 

“Hey, you ready to go?” he asks, extending a hand out for you to take. 

You nod and take his hand, dressed in a pair of leggings and one of his t-shirts. You lace your fingers with his instantly, following him out of the hotel room and towards the hotel’s gym. Your mind weighs heavily on the comments you read earlier, glancing over in his direction to see if maybe he’s seen the comments too. 

But if it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. 

Hugh smiles down at you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side. He presses a soft kiss on your temple and holds you close to him, hand running along your arm. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

You bite your lower lip, smiling to yourself. It just feels like everything that had been bothering you that morning disappears at his words, at the look on his face. 

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

“You doing okay?” Hugh asks. 

You nod, though you know that he would be able to see right through you. When you both stop at the doors of the hotel gym, he brings a hand up to rest on your cheek. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Just thinking, that’s all.” 

“About last night? About what I said?”

You shake your head immediately. “No, no. Not that. Just–” you sigh. “I saw the comments on the picture and I know what to expect, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less. Reading what they have to say about this, about us… I know it shouldn’t matter, but it does.”

Hugh nods in understanding, sighing quietly. He’s learned to drown out the comments, to pay no attention to it, but he’d be lying if he said that there are times where it still gets to him. He wishes he can shield you from it, to protect you from all the bad in the world, but he knows that isn’t possible. He just hopes that it doesn’t deter you from this, from him. 

“Does our age gap bother you?” you blurt out. 

Hugh’s eyes furrow in confusion and he shakes his head. “No, it never did.” he brushes his thumb across your cheek before he drops his hand back to his side. “Does it– Does it bother you?”

“No,” you answer instantly. “I just saw some comments and–”

“Baby,” Hugh sighs quietly. “There will always be comments about this, about you and me… But I promise that it doesn’t mean a thing to me. All that matters is that you’re here with me,” he says softly. “You’re all that matters.” 

You sigh and nod in agreement. “I know… And I know that this is the price you have to pay for being in the public eye. I’ll try to ignore all the outside noise.” 

“What you’re feeling though is valid, baby.” Hugh reassures. “I just want you to know that I love you, that isn’t going to change.” 

“I love you too, you whisper, standing on your toes to peck his lips. “We should probably head inside. I’m sure Shawn and Ryan are already waiting for you.” 

Hugh nods. “We’ll talk more later, okay? And if you need someone to spot you, you know who to ask.” 

You smile. “Yeah, my training partner,” you wink.

“Damn right,” Hugh grins. 

—

Luckily, your trainer had sent you a workout routine while you’ve been gone. Hugh had gone off to workout with Shawn and Ryan at the other end of the gym and just like always, your eyes drift over to him repeatedly when he begins to curl the dumbbells, his biceps flexing. 

You had just finished your dynamic stretching when you take note of the heavy bag at the corner of the room. You smile to yourself in excitement and begin to wrap your hands and then sliding on your boxing gloves. Your music is blasting in your ears and it provides just enough of a distraction that you remain focused solely on the bag in front of you. 

With every exhale, you deliver a quick jab and cross to the bag, staying light on your feet. 

Hugh’s eyes immediately move over to you, eyes widening at the sight of you. He had no idea that you could move around the way you do and hit the bag like you are doing now. There’s something in the way you move, the way you hit the bag with precision that makes Hugh excited. Seeing you like this in a completely different element in the gym turns him on and he tries not to think about taking you in the bathroom and–

“Hugh, you’re up,” Shawn says, pointing towards the bench. 

“Oh,” Ryan grins. “Someone’s a little distracted,” he winks. “You never told us she could box.”

“I actually didn’t know,” Hugh mumbles. “She never told me.” He moves to lie back on the bench, head lifting just slightly to look at you. You had taken a break, eyes locking with his and you grin. It takes everything in Hugh to not just end the workout early and take you back to the room. 

“She’s actually pretty good,” Shawn points out with a chuckle. “Now, come on and finish your set, Hugh.” 

You take a long break to watch Hugh continue to press the weight above his chest. You bite your lower lip, eyes taking in his frame and his muscles flexing with each movement. You hear the timer go off, indicating that your rest is over. You wait until he sits up, eyes once more locking onto yours and he winks. 

God, he’s thinking the same thing you are. 

Turning back around, you continue to finish the rest of your round with punches and hooks, not realizing how much you need to hit something to get rid of the lingering thoughts that remain. 

When the final round is over, you see Hugh approach you, already drenched in sweat. He rests his hand on your lower back, gently pressing a kiss on your temple as he whispers quietly. 

“You continue to surprise me, baby.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to look up at him. 

“You never told me that you could… do that,” he says, pointing to your gloves and then the heavy bag. “Since when?” 

You let out a quiet laugh and remove the gloves, setting it back in your bag as you move a hand to rest on his chest. “Been doing it for a few years now,” you answer. 

“You’re good,” Hugh’s voice lowers, eyes gazing at your entire frame. “You look good doing it too.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks as you bite your lower lip. “Been staring at me, huh?” 

“You’re distracting,” he grins. “Thought we already established this.”

You roll your eyes playfully and lean up to press your lips lightly on his. “Could say the same about you. I just want to bite down on these arms,” you tease, hand moving from his chest to run along his bicep. 

Hugh flexes instinctively, hearing you let out a quiet gasp. He smiles to himself as his hand on your lower back lowers until it rests innocently on your backside. “You still have the rest of your workout to do?” he asks, eyes darkening with lust and want. 

“Yeah,” you reply, biting your lower lip. “That was just my warmup and–”

“Take a long rest with me?” he interrupts. 

“Shawn and Ryan are literally waiting for you, baby.”

“They can wait,” Hugh says, head dipping lower until he brushes his lips across the side of your neck. “Or they can just continue the workout without me. I don’t need to workout. I’m already fit for the role and–”

“Okay,” you interrupt. “Should we go back to the room or–”

“Bathroom.” 

“The bathroom? Wait, are you serious?” 

Hugh nods and brings you flush against his front so that you could feel the bulge beneath his shorts. “Very serious, baby. I need you now,” he whispers. 

You nod quickly and then pull away only briefly to unravel the hand wraps, setting it back into your duffle bag. “I’ll meet you in there then.” 

Hugh smiles and leans down to peck your lips. “See you in a bit, baby.” 

You quickly hurry to the bathroom down the hall, stepping inside as you bite your lower lip. It’s small, but spacious enough that Hugh wouldn’t feel too cramped. 

Hugh then turns to Shawn and Ryan who are both looking at him with a knowing grin. “Yeah, yeah, we got it. Just keep it down,” Ryan chuckles. 

“Just continue the workout without me and if you guys finish before–” 

“Before you do,” Ryan winks. “Don’t worry, Hugh. We’ll probably leave after this set.”

Hugh nods, “Thanks, mate. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Then, he turns on his heel and makes his way down the hallway. He knocks on the door and sees you open it. He grins to himself and steps inside, an arm snaking around your waist immediately as he shuts the door and locks it behind him. 

“Hi,” you giggle, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders. “Missed you.”

“Hi, baby,” he grins, leaning down and beginning to pepper kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. Hugh’s hands move down to grasp your backside in his large hands, squeezing each cheek as he brings you flush against him. “Missed you. Need you,” he mumbles. 

“You got me,” you whisper, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel his hardened length press further against your midsection. Gently, you rest your hands on his chest and push him away from you. He furrows a brow at you, back resting against the wall. He’s about to say something, about to ask if you’re okay, but you drop to your knees in front of him. “Let me take care of you.”

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he mumbles. His eyes flutter when you bring your hands to tug down his shorts and boxers, letting the articles of clothing pool at his ankles. Hugh lets out a sigh of relief and he reaches down to grasp his base, tugging on it a few times before he feels your lips wrap around his tip. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

You slowly push his hand away and replace it with your own as you suck the head of his length, feeling the taste of his precome on your tongue. You feel his large hand rest on the back of your head, urging you to take more of him. You happily oblige, lowering yourself to take more of his throbbing length into your mouth. You can taste his sweat and precome mixing in with your saliva as you begin to bob your head. 

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, trying to pull you away from him. “I won’t be able to last long if you keep– Ah, fuck me,” he groans, feeling you take him whole. The tip of his length hits the back of your throat and he hears you gag quietly against him.

You then pull away from him, smiling up in his direction. Your hand slowly strokes the base of his manhood, lips brushing against his swollen tip. 

“Alright, baby,” Hugh groans, gently lifting you to your feet. He brings you to stand in front of the mirror above the sink as he moves behind you. You rest your hands on the edge of the sink as Hugh kicks your legs apart and roughly tugs your leggings and panties down your legs. Gently, he rests a hand on your lower back and sees your slickened sex. He lines himself up at your opening and slowly thrusts inside, your walls warm and tight encompassing him inch and by inch. 

You try to hold back your moan, trying to remain quiet as your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly. Hugh grips your hips, pulling you back onto him as he groans to himself. You always feel so good around him; he doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of this, of you. 

When he fills you to the hilt, Hugh gently pulls you to stand upright against him. He brings his arm around your waist, hand sliding up your abdomen as he reaches up to grip your breast into the pit of his palm. 

“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip to keep the noise down. Hugh makes it difficult, his hips snapping against yours from behind followed by his hand kneading your breast. It’s a mixture of sensations and his free hand comes down between your legs, fingers finding your bundle of nerves. 

“Hugh, oh god, I–” he delivers a sharp thrust, which elicits a loud moan to leave your lips. He smirks to himself, hand moving from your breast to cover your mouth. Hugh’s lips hover near your ear, grunting quietly against you.

“Shh, baby,” he groans. “Don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“Fuck me,” you moan against his hand, gently biting down on him to keep yourself quiet. 

“I am, baby,” Hugh growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his other hand quickens its movements on your clit, rubbing you in circles. He feels your body begin to tremble against him, your walls quivering around his length. He knows you’re close and so, he quickens the pace of his thrusts. While he was trying to keep you quiet, his movements make it very clear and very obvious what you’re both doing in the bathroom. 

His skin slaps against yours and he can hear the loud squelching with each thrust. You’re so wet that it dampens the hair at his base. The sounds are so obscene that anyone in the gym can hear exactly what’s going on; he just hopes that Shawn and Ryan had left and no one was in the gym except for the both of you.

“Hugh!” you matter against his hand, moving your own to reach down to grip his forearm. You push back against him, feeling the tip of his manhood kiss your cervix. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your body shaking against him. 

Hugh doesn’t last long as he usually does after you reach your orgasm because he delivers another couple of thrusts before he releases deep inside of you. He drops his hands to your hips, holding you flush against him as his eyes flutter closed. Hugh rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder, chest heaving as he pants heavily. 

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers. 

You smile, involuntarily squeezing your walls around him before you feel him pull out. You slowly turn in his arms and bring your hands to his cheeks, lightly pecking his lips. “I think I’m spent,” you laugh quietly. 

“I’d say it was a good gym session, what do you think?” Hugh’s eyes lower down to your legs, seeing his release slowly drip down and out of you. He watches you reach down to gather his release on your fingertips, bringing it to your lips and sucking the remnants of it. 

You grin up at him, eyes gazing into his. “Yummy.”

Hugh growls. “You’re naughty.”

“Only you can bring out this side of me,” you admit. 

“Good,” Hugh smirks. “Only me.” 

“We should head back to the hotel room and clean up,” you smile. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. But I’m not done with you yet, baby.” 

—

Throughout the week, you continue to come to set with Hugh. Each night, you spend a good hour editing the pictures you’ve taken for the day. You find a good routine with your schedule, even going so far as to scheduling a few engagement photoshoots. 

You continue to go to the gym with Hugh and most of the time, you’re both distracted by each other that it feels like neither of you get anything done. 

And as the weeks go by, Hugh continues to take more and more pictures of you and the both of you together. The comments about the age gap still exist, but they lessen overtime when his fans see how happy Hugh is. You’ve also learned how to pay no attention to the comments either.

The love you have for Hugh only gets stronger as each day passes. Hugh takes every chance he gets to tell you that he loves you, that he’s crazy about you and you never have to wonder how he’s feeling about you, or about this relationship. Since you’ve been with him, you find that Hugh has shown you a love that you deserve, a relationship that’s healthy. 

There’s a weeklong break that the cast and crew get before continuing to film and you take this time to spend as much uninterrupted time as you can with Hugh. Now that your relationship with him is out in the open, you no longer need to hide it and it feels so freeing to be able to hold his hand in public, kiss his cheek or give him a hug without worrying about getting caught. 

You finally feel like things are falling into place, like you’re finally finding your way back to yourself. 

Hugh’s in the shower when your phone rings. You reach for it and don’t bother to look at the contact number before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Your heart drops and you pull the phone from your ear to see the contact number listed. It’s an unknown caller, which makes sense because you had originally blocked his number from your phone after the breakup. 

“Jack, what are you–”

“I miss you,” he interrupts. “I see that you’ve moved on pretty quickly after our relationship. Are you happy?” 

You stand up and move outside to the balcony, leaning against the railing as you fidget with your fingers. “You shouldn’t be calling me.” 

“I shouldn’t have ended things,” he sighs from the other end of the call. “I’ve done a lot of thinking and–”

“No,” you interrupt. “You don’t get to come back into my life and say all these things.” You’re so focused on the call that you don’t hear Hugh step out with you.

He can see how tense you are, how your body is beginning to tremble with unshed tears. You’re beginning to fidget and pace back and forth, so he reaches out gently to rest a hand on your lower back. When you turn around to face him, he notices the look and expression you have. You’re visibly upset, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks, and your breathing picks up. 

“Who is it?” he mouths.

“Don’t call me again,” you say to the person on the other end. “I mean it.” 

Ending the call, you toss your phone onto the small table and immediately wrap your arms around Hugh. Once you feel his strong arms envelope you, you begin to cry silently into his chest. He rubs your back, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Baby, what’s going on?” Hugh whispers. 

You shake your head, just wanting to hold onto him and forget the conversation you just had with your ex-boyfriend. The same ex-boyfriend who you had a toxic relationship with. The same ex-boyfriend who you had given up everything for and didn’t get anything in return. 

“Jack– He–” you pull back, hiccuping in between sobs. “He called me and–”

Hugh’s brows lift upwards as he reaches up to wipe your tears away. “What– What did he say?” 

You can’t even bring yourself up to say it. Instead, you just shake your head and look up at him. “Can we stay in today? I’m sorry. I know that we had plans…”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Hugh interrupts. “Come on.” He brings you back inside the room and lies down on the bed, pulling you immediately into his arms. “Whenever you’re ready, we can talk about it. I’m here to listen.” 

“I told him that I’m happy with you, that I’m in love and–” you bite your lower lip, clutching Hugh so tightly that you’re afraid to let go. “He just said some hurtful things and maybe– Maybe it’s true, but I just…” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels frustrated and angry for you, that this man still had the audacity to come back into your life and treat you the way he does. He reaches down and cups your cheek, gently pecking your lips. “Hey,” he whispers. “They’re not true. Whatever he said, they aren’t true.” 

“He’s here,” you blurt out. “Maybe I should go back home. Back to New York, and–”

“No.” Hugh interjects. “You’re staying right here with me. With Shawn, with Ryan.” 

“But–”

“No,” Hugh repeats. “I’m not going to let this man think he has this much control over you, d’ya hear me, baby?”

“Hugh–”

Hugh shakes his head. “He doesn’t get to hurt you again. I’m not gonna let him. You’re with me, baby.” 

You don’t respond, your mind already drifting to the things that Jack said. You hate that he has so much authority over you, how one simple conversation can flip a switch in you. You look up at Hugh, taking note of the seriousness in his features, the concern in his eyes. You love him so much, you truly do, but maybe Jack’s right. Maybe Hugh does deserve better than you would ever be able to give him. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill

[lixiektty]

꒰ঌ cupid's cams : yang jeongin ໒꒱ — prev ▸ next

word count: 5.4k (i just kept writing i am so sorry), warnings/kinks: dom camboy!jeongin, sub!reader, language, lingerie, lubed up jeongin (holy shit), male maturation, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, praise, a little degradation and objectification, they're both hella oblivious of the other's feelings, jeongin's lowkey a perv, mentions of sex but don't fuck... yet, pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!

author's note: apologies for this being a little late, i promise i'm gonna figure out a good writing/posting schedule so i'm not leaving you all thirsty for more. i'm trying and working on a lot right now, trust! for now, enjoy cupid's cam and march madness starting next month!!!!

taglist: @hyynee, @enha-cafe, @xiaoderrrr, @lethallyprotected

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cupid's cams masterlist

jeongin had intended to keep his real job a secret. after seeing you so helpless trying to find a well-paying job, he couldn't resist and felt like he really needed to help.

you guys sat on the couch, legs draped over his lap—not that he minded much anyways, he enjoyed the comfort. you were scrolling through your for you page, giggling and turning your phone every few scrolls to show jeongin the tiktoks you came across.

he loved your smile. it kind of ruined him that he started to feel a way about you this past year, you were his thoughts when streaming—wishing he were speaking to you, and when doing his more explicit streams he'd think of you as well. something he regretted, but honestly just couldn't stop doing. you were in his head constantly.

"y/n," he called.

you hum in response, but your eyes don't leave your phone. he taps your calf that finally gets your attention.

"put your phone down, i need to talk to you," jeongin says. he sounded serious, so you did as told and sat up straight and taking your legs off of him to sit criss-cross. "what's up?"

"i... fuck," he curses, not knowing how to even start, "i have a job that i think could really help you, but i need your trust."

"of course, you can trust me jeongin," you say, smiling his direction, "but, tell me now. you're freaking me the hell out."

jeongin chuckled and leaned forward a bit, "okay, okay. there's a site where you can stream for people and get paid for talking to them and do things they ask."

you nod slowly. you didn't know where this was about to go.

"it can... lead to other things, and those other things really bring in the cash," he announces, which catches your interest though, what other things? "i don't get all my cash from the cafe. i do these streams near a every other day basis."

your mind began to really think of any of the conclusions to the 'other things' jeongin was talking about, and your mind only went to one thing. "you're.."

"i jerk off for thousands to see and get paid," he interpreted before you could've even asked the same thing he had just said, "now you don't have to, but if you're looking for a good paycheck you can help me out with my upcoming stream and i'll split the tips."

"you want me to have sex with you... on camera?" you ask.

god just the thought of that. jeongin already had an amazing build, from everything you've seen, and to see him like that—bare for you. fuck. your stomach filled with slight flutters and it was hard to not shuffle a bit.

"not exactly," jeongin finally answered. this causing you to let out a sigh of relief, not only because being naked for everyone on the internet to see worried you a bit but you didn't know if you could fuck your best friend for the first time while everyone was watching either, "you don't have to be naked if you don't want to, something simple like sucking me off will do good. i'll get you a mask to cover your eyes."

it didn't sound too bad. it's money, a possible new job, jeongin, and a chance to really get closer to your best friend like you've thought about once before.

"okay," you let out, jeongin's head snapping your way with shock read on his face, "okay, i'll do it."

"seriously?" he asked.

"yeah, what could go wrong?" exactly.

jeongin nodded and fixed his posture, not sure how to move forward, "okay, cool. how about tomorrow? i like doing two or three streams a week and i've only done one."

tomorrow? so soon, too soon. things could change so quick within 24 hours. you weren't gonna lie— it began to freak you out a bit.

so when you were waiting in the hall, outside the door of jeongin's apartment the next day, you couldn't think straight. you stood there patiently but wondered what could be taking so long.

eventually, you heard the sound of the locks being turned, door opening and revealing the handsome face of your best friend. his smile shines, dimples clear as day. you knew you probably looked flustered, jeongin reading your expression oh so clearly.

"come on in, bestie," he says, moving to the side to give you enough room to walk in, "how you feeling?" jeongin asked after closing the door.

you couldn't express in words how much you were feeling. it was a mix of excitement, anxiety than ran through your veins, and... possible feelings? no. you had been in your head since you went home last night and couldn't stop letting your thoughts overwhelm you.

"i'm..." you start, trying to collect your thoughts but only being met with fear, "okay, honestly i'm freaking out."

jeongin farrowed his brows, walking over to the kitchen to grab you some water, "why so?" he asks.

"it's... a lot," you say.

"we don't have to, you still have time to back out... even though i brought you gifts~" he says in a singsong like tone, handing you a bottle of water with a sly smirk on his face as he walks into the hall towards his room.

you follow him hesitantly, stopping at the door when you saw a fancy bag from the boutique across town. did he really go all this way... for me?

"come, look," he said, motioning you over.

you could only wonder what else was in that bag besides the mask he promised you. it was bigger as if something else was in there, so what possibly could it be? you walked into his room, noticing the purple lights bouncing off the walls, large set up on the right side of his room.

"maybe seeing these will make you feel better," jeongin announces, waiting very patiently for you to look in the bag. he didn't care how much he spent on something, as long as it was for you.

you reach in with anticipation, feeling a box. you pull it out and take the ribbon of the bougee packaging. when you open it, an elegant, white, lacey mask sat in it.

"what do you think?" jeongin asked.

you looked up and smiled at him, "love it, thank you," you reply while pulling him into a hug, "why such a big bag for this small ass box though?" you ask once you're out of his embrace.

"look inside," he says.

you look at him questionably, sitting the box on the bed and reaching back inside only to find some more bundled up white lace. the fabric untwined the further it was taken from the bag.

lingere. he bought lingere.

"what's... this?" you ask. it was so obvious what it was, you knew this. but playing dumb was the only thing you could think of doing to really get this picture through your skull.

"wanna get paid somehow, don't you? how you work your mouth helps but showing at least a little something will get you a whole lot more," jeongin admits. he also just couldn't help himself when he saw it, matching your mask perfectly, knowing you'd look absolutely stunning.

when buying it, he could only think about fucking you in it— jerking off the minute he got into his car. he thanked you for suggesting tinted windows when he first got it. the thought of you was all he needed to get hard for the show, already uncomfortably hard in his pants while being in your presence.

"i'm only trusting you 'cause this is what you're good at... somehow," you said with a suspicious look on your face that made jeongin chuckle.

you examined the piece of lingerie, the lacy parts barely covering your boobs and stomach, small enough to fit you tight and show off your body just as jeongin wanted.

"now, if at any point you get uncomfortable or just not feeling it anymore, tap me three times okay?" jeongin asked, serious tone in his voice that caused your head to turn.

"okay," you nod.

"try it," he said, turning your body fully by your shoulder and moving closer until the gap between you two was almost closed.

jeongin brings your hand up to his chest, looking down at you and waiting for you to move. you were so caught in moment, the only you could do was look right back at him—sinking into his gaze. once you regain your consciousness, you lift your fingers one, two, three times to pat his chest gently.

"good," he says, smile playing along his face again, "now go get changed, 10 minutes 'til showtime."

he walks away from you, hand falling from his chest and causing you to miss the warmth of his body almost touching yours.

instead of standing there— like an idiot, you thought, you rush to the bathroom, stripping from your clothes entirely until you were left bare in his bathroom. he was right in the next room, you could tell him fuck the stream and beg for what you really wanted. he'd be freaked out though, he wouldn't want to fuck me.

the white fabric hugged your body, nipples so exposed you could see them hardening through. you didn't know what to think, you had never seen yourself like this... and maybe this would alter something within jeongin.

walking out with nothing but lingerie on with all goodies exposed, clothes in hand, it was almost embarrassing to you. jeongin's eyes met your figure the minute you walked back in, in a different set of clothing.

"woah, y/n you look... hot," he admits, scanning you from head to toe.

his gaze intimidated you a bit, sharp eyes looking at you hungrily.

"it's not too much?" you ask, walking closer towards him.

"it's more than i'd prefer," he shrugs, fingers grazing the strap on your shoulder.

you felt small standing in front of him, knees almost buckling under you, "what would you prefer me to wear instead?" you asked, shyly.

"nothing," jeongin replied, throwing his shirt off and smirking as he walked to his chair when he noticed your reaction to his insane structure that you were familiar with seeing before—now, seeing him like this sent a rush straight to your core.

you sat down on the bed, watching jeongin's focused face behind the monitor. he was in the middle of getting his stream set up, making sure to announce it on all his 2nd accounts.

"countdown is starting, you sure you're in all the way?" jeongin asked before the 15 second countdown ended.

"positive," you reassure, sending a thumbs up his way.

he smiles, nodding and sitting back while waiting for the stream to start. you couldn't think of anything else to look at but him, he was so admiring, charm basically shining right through him.

you hear a sound, signaling that the stream has started. jeongin greets them, thanking them for joining him tonight, "the strip goal is sent at 200 tonight, i know you guys could get there and... i have a surprise for you all later on in the show."

the surprise in question, being you. the more you thought about it the more you let yourself feel less stressed about it all, it was really just a paycheck. the only thing you worried about was how this would alter yours and jeongin's realationship. if it even would, you didn't know.

"for now just focus on me," jeongin says, his tone so seductive that your thighs squeeze shut.

jeongin leans over to grab a bottle, containing lube you assumed, pouring the liquid into his palm. he lubes his torso up as if he was apply lotion, both hands shiny and slick running down his body. he'd brush past his nipples every once in a while, groaning by instinct.

the tip jar sound went off, jeongin giggling when he reads a certain comment begging for him to pull his cock out already, "let's get to 200 and i'll show you what i know you guys want to see."

he communicated with his watchers so well, knew what to do to get the money, satisfy each viewer and himself all at once. really, in his mind, he was putting on this show for you. the colored lights shined off his body, illuminating him in such a way.

you really wanted to get up right now and say, "fuck it," forcing his pants down and stuffing your mouth. all your thoughts now were so lewd, especially compared to how you were thinking just seconds ago.

his hands slid down his torso gently, the sound of the lude being moved around clear to your ears. you felt almost as eager as his viewers, wanting him to hurry up and get on with it so you could see his cock that so desperately needed to be touched.

the sound of the tip jar went wild, jeongin turning it off due to the loud sound. he smirked seeing the overflowing tips he received, going way past his goal, "eager, are we?" he asked giggling, sex to my fucking ears, you thought.

jeongin stood up, and you knew once his pants were down you would no longer have to imagine what his pretty cock looks like. he slowly brought down his sweats, stopping when they were right under balls, tip red and leaking, veins protruding along the shaft.

your eyes were locked on his grip, fist full of his manhood, and with his face not being shown on the screen as he stood, he was looking at you as he slowly worked himself up. a soft groan left his pretty lips, eyes glued to your form, moving his fist up and down before sitting back down. he gets ahold of the lube again, applying one line against his shaft before putting the bottle down and once again fucking his fist.

you on the other hand, sat on the bed with an ache forming at the pit of your stomach. each movement forward would apply pressure to your clit, craving any type of friction whatsoever while this view was in front of you.

jeongin tried to pretend he wasn't as close as he really was, ready to cum the minute he laid eyes on you in the damn lingerie. the lewd sounds made by him caused you to clench your thighs tighter and tighter.

"ah— so fuckin' good," jeongin mumbled, eyes closed, adam's apple moving with each noise he let out. his pace in thrusts increased along with his beautiful moans that filled the atmosphere.

you couldn't help but grip at the bedsheets. you were so desperate at this point, it was fucking with your head. to have him fuck you relentlessly is all you could ever imagine now until it happened.

jeongin had never seemed the type to do something such as camming. you never thought about him sexually in the first place, he was always just too cute. even with all the girlfriends he's had, you couldn't imagine him actually fucking anybody.

this was a completely different side of jeongin that surprised you, in the best way possible. his free hand laid on his chest, nipple between his fingers— the veins in his hands were so damn noticable, his breath was speeding up, back arching, the way his bicep curved and moved with each friction that was made, the view was just too much you had to look away.

jeongin noticed, not happy with your response. he began making little 'mmhs' and 'ahhs' to grab your attention. you tried to ignore his doings, only pissing him off a bit more. your ears were hot, just as hot as your cheeks due to the embarrassment you were feeling at the moment.

"this cock's all for you," jeongin coos causing you to pull up your head, snapping it his direction. he was looking at the monitor but it felt like his words were meant for you. he turned his head, heavy lidded eyes looking at you and repeating, "all for you."

if he kept this up you were going to fall. hard. so hard that you didn't know if you'd be able to hide it for long. his hips rolled as he fucked his fist, moans only getting louder and higher with time.

"so fucking close," he whimpered.

your head spun like crazy. it was like he already had control over you when doing such little, not even touching you—yet you were a wet mess, freezing while sitting on this bed.

jeongin's brain was turning to mush, he knew soon he'd be able to cum in your mouth or at least on your face but for now, he'd have to wait for the sake of the stream—knowing he gains more when teases, and his followers knows he loves to tease.

"holy fuck—" jeongin arched his back off of his chair, edging himself before you could come on screen. his pretty lubed up cock fell against his stomach, the prettiest whimpers leaving his mouth, hands gripping onto the chair. who would've thought this is what your best friend was up to in his free time?

jeongin was busy catching his breath, looking over at you with a smirk. his attention was back to the chat, reading all their praises.

"i have a guest, for the first time ever. she's gonna help me out today," he announces, you took that as your cue and put on the eye mask.

your anxiety peeked once you were found on the screen. the chat exploded seeing you in the lingerie, body absolutely perfect to all the pervs watching. you wave slightly, too afraid to even say anything.

"don't be shy. they're nice," jeongin reassured.

you get on your knees, right beside the chair, "hi everyone," you say. everyone seemed to like you already.

jeongin seemed to notice your shaky voice though, and how your eyes looked everywhere but at him or the screen.

"this is her first time camming so she's a bit shy, but i know you'll do good angel," he says, petting your head softly and running his fingers through your hair.

jeongin turned until you were right between his legs, painfully hard cock before your eyes. all you could do was look up at jeongin and wait for his signal. his big hands create a makeshift ponytail. you were quick to grab ahold of his cock, sensitive to the touch and causing jeongin to gasp.

finally, you built up the courage to close your mouth around the head, slowly taking more of him in until your throat closed around him— gagging.

"careful angel, take your time," jeongin says, pulling your head up gently.

you two created a gentle rhythm, bobbing your head, every vein running along your tongue. it was really happening, your first time ever being intimate with your best friend and so many people were watching it happen. jeongin's pretty moans filled the room once again, sending more shocks throughout your body.

"they said you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth," jeongin comments, "does it make you feel better knowing they like you?" he asks.

you pull him out of your mouth and nod, giving him a soft smile, "yeah."

"good, you're doing so good." he praises. just another thing for you to imagine when thinking about fucking him.

you formed a ball of spit on your tongue before letting it drip onto his tip, a soft sigh leaving his mouth at the sight and feeling. your tongue laid flat against it, brushing along his slit every so often. jeongin could not take this anymore, he only wished he could fuck you right now and see how much of a mess you'd actually be.

the thought wouldn't leave his brain, to have you under him full of his cock, dumb and drooling, tears escaping your eyes. he'd do it if it wasn't for everyone watching and knowing what you agreed on beforehand. he just knew your cunt felt way better than how your mouth already felt.

you took him in so well, slowly but surely being able to take more of him without gagging. he was too big and he found it amusing seeing you struggle with a mouth full of dick.

"look at you," he says, corner of his lip curling up.

jeongin was already so god damn obsessed with you, your hot and wet mouth covering him and leaving him to imagine it was your pussy providing the pleasure to his cock instead.

"if only i was fucking you angel, god you have no idea how slutty and messy you'd look," jeongin groaned, chuckling slightly after.

his words effected you like no other, the lace covering you soaking more by the minute. the thought didn't leave your mind either, you just knew he'd be rough with you especially with the way he was handling your head right now— his dominance just escalating as you went on.

"fuck," jeongin cursed, along with some groans following. he couldn't resist when his hips began to buck up, tip hitting your throat with force.

you close your eyes, hands holding onto jeongin's thighs. at first, he thought you'd tap out but instead you allowed him to fuck your throat as fast and as hard as he wanted to. though, you felt a little ache in the back of your throat, you still somehow enjoyed how he was having his way with you.

your mask began to slip, ribbon loosening more with each forceful movement of jeongin's hand. he hadn't noticed since his head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. your hands were too busy gripping on his thighs for dear life to help yourself.

eventually he looked down, heart falling to his stomach when he saw your eyes slowly being exposed. he took his hands off and stopped all his actions to tighten the mask. he did it quick and with ease, anxious to continue mouthfucking you.

"pretty girl, you are doing so well," jeongin whispered, bending down to kiss your forehead then sat back, hand tangled in your hair once again.

his lips pressing against your forehead was something you wanted to feel everyday for the rest of your life, it was so comforting. hearing him say that you were doing a great job and give you a forehead kiss as a badge of honor really pulled at your heartstrings.

you whine around him, tears were daring to fall from your eyes and seep through the mask. this action sent vibrations to his cock, causing him to buck and whimper quietly. every time a simple curse or whimper fell from his lips it was impossible to not let out a muffled moan yourself, which only pushed jeongin further.

jeongin was losing it as he tried to contain himself. the urge to scream your name from the top of his lungs was killing him, his nickname for you being the only thing he was able to let out.

"fuck angel," he groans. his thrusts into your mouth began getting sloppy, the room was drowned in his beautiful noises.

at this point he had completly forgotten about the stream as he continued abusing your poor throat. he let out deep grunts, pulling your hair with an extremely tight grip to keep you in place.

"angel's just my pretty little fuck hole isn't she?" jeongin asked, knowing his question couldn't be answered by you but you both knew the answer to it.

it was so damn obvious, and you only wished he would continue to make you feel like just a mouth to fuck. you had felt some type of pride making him feel this way, already so fucked out from the feeling of your lips sucking him in.

"i'm so close, make me cum, make me cum angel," jeongin repeats, voice higher pitched as he grew closer to his high, "so good for me."

one of your hands fall from his thighs to cover his that sat in your hair. you could feel his skin covered in lube, no doubt parts of your hair were covered as well. you didn't care, you'd get as messy as you could if that meant jeongin was the cause.

you bobbed your head even with his dick partly down your throat. you did everything in your power to give him the best head he's ever got. jeongin was whining and loosing his grip on your hair. he twitched in your mouth, fucking up into it roughly, saying things that were incoherent.

jeongin's other hand rushed to grab yours that was still gripping onto his thigh. he held it tightly, face scrunching and basically drooling from the mouth at you being a spit stained mess.

"oh fuck!" he cried out, hips stutter up into your mouth, hot cum spill down your throat.

jeongin pulled up your head slowly, still cumming as he slid along your tongue. he tasted surprisingly better than anyone before, he sounded pretty too— his constant whimpers you wanted to hear more of each time he let one out. music to your ears.

you hummed in satisfaction, watching him ride out his high. he threw his head back against his head rest, eyes closed and looking so fucking hot. not like he wasn't already before, seeing him like this and knowing you were the cause of his fucked outness drove you insane.

you wanted to have him drilling inside you rapidly until you couldn't feel anything, numb to the touch. time could only tell, you weren't gonna give your hopes up. hoping this wouldn't be the last time you and jeongin would be doing something like this.

eventually, jeongin pulled your head all the way back until he fell from your mouth— waiting for you to swallow. your throat was so abused that swallowing caused you to wince.

the boy was breathing heavily, his grip falling from your hair. his body became less tense, stomach unclenching, beautiful body on display for everyone looking at him. honestly, you wish you had your phone to capture this exact moment, he was definitely one of the most gorgeous men you've met.

a smiled played along his face, eyes opening and looking down at you. he turned his head to the monitor, seeing all the tips that were given while he wasn't looking, so he could pay attention to you.

"thank you guys, i hope you enjoyed," jeongin says, breathlessly. he was rushing to get off the stream to be alone with you, thoughts of his after stream shower with you, bare wet body pressed against his.

god. he was in love. he already knew, but this just confirmed it fully and he wanted all his time in the world to be spent with you, spent kissing you, spent loving you, spent fucking you into bliss. he needed to fuck you tonight, it was driving him mad.

"i'll see you next week," he said, blowing a kiss and quickly ending the live.

he sat back once again with uneven breath, head dizzy and still trying come back to reality. he could even tell he was slurring his words slightly before he ended the live.

"oh my god, that was so good," jeongin says, panting and trying to regain his control.

you couldn't believe what had just happened, sitting back on your knees absolutely dumbfounded and taking your mask off gently. jeongin smiles at you, lifting his hips so he could pull up his pants. he sits up, turning everything that was on off and turning his attention back to you immediately.

"you did fucking amazing, come here," jeongin praised, leaning towards you and capturing your lips in a kiss.

it took you aback, considering not only was that your first kiss but he did it and could still taste himself on your tongue.

"made so much because of you, how did you like it?" he asked, wiping the tear that fell from the corner of your eye.

"it was.... not bad, actually," you said. doing this wouldn't be so bad if that meant you'd being doing it with your bestfriend.

"i told you. keep it up and i might just have to keep you around," jeongin says, which made your head spin at the fact he was actually considering that. he grabs a towel that's set aside and wipes his hands clean from lube, soon folding it and using the corner to clear up your face.

"we should shower and i'll get you a glass of salt water to gargle, wouldn't want you feeling gross in the morning," jeongin stood up, grabbing your arms to pull up your body.

his kindness was always part of his charm, no matter what he'd do anything to make sure you weren't hurt and had the support you needed. you were led to the bathroom where he sat you on the toilet and started a warm shower for you both. you knew this meant he was going to see you completely nude, not that the lingerie left much up to his imagination in the first place.

"come on baby, take this off," jeongin said softly, bending down to help, sliding it down your shoulders.

you couldn't catch feelings for him, no way. that would only mess things up, you thought. the two of you being bestfriends for so long and never once showing a bit of attraction for one another, what would a relationship do to that? what if things don't work out and it ruins your friendship after the fact.

"you okay?" jeongin asked, noticing the look of discomfort on your face.

you force a smile onto your face, nodding in response, "yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask?"

"you seem—i dunno, out of it," he says, he knew you better than anyone and if the stream was the reason for your discomfort he'd do what he could to make it up to you, "did that make you, yunno—"

"no, jeongin. i liked it," you reassure. his face lights up at your words, heart beating faster, especially when you said, "i did." making sure he heard correctly.

"well, okay then," jeongin stayed quiet until you both stepped foot into the shower, the warm water hitting your back.

the tension was so strong, you got weak in the knees from his touch— hands on your waist to push you until your hair soaked with water. jeongin found it difficult to not get hard again when you look like this, relaxed under the warm water that eased your muscles.

"feel good?" jeongin asked. you hum with eyes closed, looking more beautiful than ever, "turn around so i can wash your hair."

you do as told, turning your back towards him and waiting patiently to feel his hands in your hair once again. he strains the water from it, picking up the shampoo and squeezing it into his hands. his fingers ran along your scalp gently and massaging it as he goes.

everything about this felt so normal, to have him care for you like this really had you falling for him. you felt calm and comfortable as he washed your hair for you. with how rough he was being before with your head, the gentleness threw you for a loop. the dynamic was insanely attractive to you—gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets.

he finishes and takes the shower head off to rinse the bubbles of, fingers once again massaging their way through. he watched the water run down the arch of your back—ass right there for him to just grab. jeongin really could hide how hard he was, he stood as far back as he could but still close enough to clean you up so you wouldn't suddenly be met with a surprise poking at you.

"jeongin?" you call out, softly.

he had thought he'd been caught but he answered you anyways before assuming, "yes?"

you turn, facing him again. looking up into his eyes made butterflies flutter in your stomach. he didn't know what you were going to say, but he waited until you spoke again.

"i... like you," you admit. you felt stupid admitting this after sucking his dick and seeing how good he was at his job that you were hoping would become yours as well, "like a lot. i would love to help you with your future streams, if you're looking for a partner."

"if it's you, then i'm okay with it. i like you too," he replies.

it had taken so long for him to actually say that, anxiety running through his body each time he tried to have a serious conversation about his feelings with you.

"you do?" you ask, surprised.

"for some time now, yeah." jeongin says. he didn't talk about you being his thoughts when jacking off, but he no longer needed to do that anymore. you were his.

you both smile brightly at each other, jeongin hand cupping your cheek, bodies closing the gap and kissing each other deeply. it only got more and more heated, jeongin had to pull away and control himself. he closes his eyes, feeling embarrassed from what was about to come out of his mouth, "god i want to fuck you so bad right now."

"looks like it," you joke, looking down to see his hard cock poking at your stomach then meeting his gaze again, "so what's stopping you?"

jeongin shook his head, wearing a grin before he pressed you up against the cold tile, "fuck, what am i going to do with you angel?"

[quitealotofsodapop]

Mei is both proud and very unhappy with the grounding. True, she didn't know her little buddy was actually Sun Wukong's son until about ten minutes ago, but her parents got to meet her little brother figure, and they think he's adorable! Wukogn makes sure to warn them of potential baby layers, tho, new powers and all. Luckily, that's not something new to the Ao Long household considering how Mei holds a certain Ring.

That conversation has to be one of the msot awkward Wukong has ever had up to that point tho, calling up Ao Lie's great granddaughter to tell her that her daughter, whom she hadn't even realized knew him, had gotten his son, who nobody even knows he has, into a bit of trouble and now DBK is free and all the parents to the kids involved in freeing him are coming together for a tea party to figure out, essentially, what's next.

Wukong, astral projecting: Hello, yes, Mrs. Long? Lovely to speak face to face, I knew your grandfather you know, but that's not why I'm calling. Um, so it's about your daughter.

Yi Li: What!?

Wukong, getting nervous: Uh... yeah, see, she and my kid have gotten pretty close. Mr. Tang is his tutor, you see, and they tend to have their lessons at the Noodle Shop she works at. Well, I let Mei take my little Xiaotian out with her for some of her delivery runs aaaand... next thing I know, the Demon Bull King is free.

Ye Li, already suspecting: Oh no... dont tell me, it was her!?

Wukong: From what I understand of the events, she was pretty involved and stuff... so do you mind coming over for some tea with me and the Demon Bull Family so we can kinda... figure out our next steps? They've called a bit of a truce for now after meeting my kid.

Ye Li: Of course! Just give us a few minutes to clear our schedule and we'll be right over... oh and please tell my daughter she's grounded.

Wukong: Alright then! See you there! *turns to unseen person as he begins to fade out* Hey Mei your mom says-

prev post. @soniclozdplove;

+an earlier ask;

Ao Yi and Long Cháo have long accepted that their baby girl is a lot more... firey than a normal water dragon pup. But they never believed in locking her up or forcing her to suppress her boundless energy.

So when Mei came to them wanting to get a part-time job as a delivery job so she could have "real life" experience, they were fully supportive.

They think it's really cute how she's bonded with her boss and some of the regulars. Mei especially mentions a little demon monkey named MK who's obsessed with the Monkey King, and is about to become a big brother. The Ao-Long's only met MK and "Mr Qi" once when they decided to visit Mei at her work. The little boy was so excited about going to school and becoming a big brother - even though "she's taking a long time." Mr Qi just laughed and explained that he was a little overdue. The dragon couple thought the two were an adorable parent and child, but Ao Yi swears she recognises Mr Qi from somewhere...

Wukong, astral projecting in: "Heeeeyyyy Mrs Long." Ao Yi: "Sun Wukong? Why, I haven't seen you since I was a pup. What brings you here today?" Wukong, stalling a bit: "Well it's about Mei- she's not in trouble don't worry! Well maybe a little in trouble... she was doing a delivery when she and her little stowaway came across my Staff and DBK's resting site. Iron Fan and Red Son included." Ao Yi, going pale: "She didn't." Wukong: "She didn't - but Red Son did. And then MK managed steal it off of him. Mei grabbed him and bolted before any fighting could happen but they got chased." Ao Yi, frustrated and worried: "Oh sweet- Cháo! Our daughter somehow helped release an ancient demon king!" Long Cháo, running in: "Is she ok!?" Wukong: "Oh yeah she's fine. Nobody got hurt. DBK was a lot more forgiving once he properly met MK-" Long Cháo, piecing together the lore: "Wait isn't that the same MK who gets tutored by Mr Tang? Isn't Mr Qi... pregnant?" Ao Yi, raises brow at Wukong: "Yes. Yes he is." Wukong, laughing nervously: "HAHA! Yeah! Surprise! I uh... have a kid and one on the way. Long story." Ao Yi: "Great-Grandfather did say you had an Egg with you throughout the Journey. I had assumed he was rambling, but this explains so much..." Wukong: "Yeah, I've been keeping it a secret for a long time. Ao Lie was always so protective of me... Anyway, my dao isn't so great right now so I need to wrap this call up. You guys wanna meet up or something to talk about this in-person? I just want my Xiaotian to know some folks connected to the "old gang" now that his powers are developing. Plus DBK needs a lot of history filled in for him." (*the dragon couple share a look and smile*) Ao Yi: "I see no issue in having a few lunch meetings. It's not every day I get to talk about Great-Grandfather's journey." Long Cháo: "Xiaojiao is grounded though, right?" Ao Yi: "Without a doubt."

The familys (+occassionally Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy) start meeting up for brunch afterwards. Ao Yi and PIF are glamourous girl besties the second they meet, and their husbands bond over their difficulties in courting them. Wukong is glad to have people to hang out with outside of FFM, and to rebuild the relationship with his brother and sister-in-law.

Mei house sits the day the parents are all out for dinner. Red Son is still trying to take over the city in a misguided effort to make his parents proud, so attempted sword-theft still occurs and Mei's own dragon abilities start erupting. MK yells with joy at his bestie being a fellow "Superhero!". Red Son gets grounded.

[hippolotamus]

Tagged for Tidbit Tuesday and/or WIP Wednesday by @barbiediaz @forthewolves @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @eowon @cowboy-buddie @thewolvesof1998 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @spaceprincessem (I'm still catching up on all your lovely snippets. Consider yourself tagged back if you haven't posted for WIP Wednesday)

Tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @stereopticons @elvensorceress @vanillahigh00 @apothecarose @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @buddierights @911onabc @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @statueinthestone @monsterrae1 @watchyourbuck @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff if you wanna

IDK how I feel about all this but more from you're where I wanna go under the cut. All prev snippets here.

Buck returns the following day, like he said he would, continuing to do so for weeks. He learns Lucy’s schedule, what days she’s tending the cart, and makes it a point to see her.  He always arrives with the same question. She continues to leave him with the same answer. It becomes a bit of a running joke. He asks her to marry him and she tells him ‘no’. Sometimes, to add variety, she’ll say something like ‘if you can tell me my cat’s name, I’ll consider it’. It’s through these comments he begins to learn more about her. The first thing being that she doesn’t actually own a cat.  She tells him that her favorite color is aquamarine blue because it reminds her of the ocean, how she would like to travel more in the future; that she likes peas, corn and carrots, but not when they touch or mix together. Lucy proudly shares that she can drink most men under the table, and is exceptionally skilled at cards.  Buck also learns the history of Donato’s Flowers. It was started by Lucy’s grandparents, James and Emma, as a stall in Reading Terminal Market. Lucy’s mother had died in childbirth, and her father was either working or gambling, leaving Lucy with her grandparents most of the time.

She eventually tells Buck about going with them to the market as soon as she could walk, and helping when was strong enough to do so. How she would be rewarded by being allowed to pick out candy from the enormous bins several rows over from their stall.  “My sister used to take me there when we were kids,” he admits wistfully one October day. He hadn’t meant to say anything about Maddie, too afraid of tearing open the hole in his chest that never quite heals completely. But he did let it slip, so he doesn’t see any point in trying to hide it now. “We would get pastries and hot cider, or lemonade. Then we would walk around and she would make up stories about the different people we saw.” “Stories?” Lucy raises an eyebrow at him, a curious lilt to her voice. “Like what?” Buck takes a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed and breathing in the scent of chrysanthemums, roses, and fallen leaves. He pictures a maze of wooden booths that offer almost anything a person could want — meats, cheeses, bolts of fabric, cakes, pies, toys, and so much more than he can remember.  “There were always so many people bustling around. So much activity,” he recalls, his eyes still closed. “Haggling with vendors or trying to keep children in line. Then there were the out-of-towners. Easy to spot because of the way they would wind through the whole place, looking at anything and everything. I’m sure you know what I mean.” Buck huffs quietly, surprised by how easily the details come back. “Anyway, she would tell me to pick someone and then say they were a duchess who ran away from home. An undercover spy out for lunch. A pirate gathering supplies before going back out to sea. Absolutely ridiculous tales that would make us laugh until our sides hurt.” He opens his eyes to a world that’s very empty of Maddie and all the joy she brought him, and feels his heart break anew. Lucy watches him, equal parts fond and concerned.  “At any rate, that was more than you wanted to know,” he babbles. “Your cart is clearly no longer at the market. Tell me more about how it became this?”

[ladysomething]

I love everything that you’ve written for F1 so far (you are just the most incredible writer, I could read all of the fics you’ve written a million times and never get bored) but you’ve truly outdone yourself with Where You Go, I Go!!!! I literally read chapter 2 like 4 times last week and I’ve just been counting down the days until I could read chapter 3 (but I pinky promise I do not mean that in a “write faster” kind of way, I mean it in a “I was excited that I audibly squealed when I saw you posted today” kind of way). And ABO is something that I hardly ever read. But you just do it SO well. I LOVE the world you’ve built. And this fic is just SO incredible. I wasn’t sure how you could top the first two chapters, but eek CHAPTER THREE. The way that Charles going into pre-heat prevented any questions about Max and his intentions from getting answered (the tension is buildingggg) and Pierre showing up and Charles getting claimed, oh my god every scene was incredible and I am SO EXCITED to find out where this is going, because I genuinely don’t know what to expect!!! Thank you so, so much for sharing this fic with us!!!

I am a different anon than before, but I was very interested in reading your response about if you found writing long fic to be daunting. Like prev anon, I am a numbers girl, so learning a little about your writing process/philosophy was super interesting!! I have another question if you don’t mind me asking- how do you decide on your posting schedule?! Although I would literally read this whole fic in one sitting, I do love the 1+ weeks between updates because I love getting excited for a new chapter and looking forward to it, but you said in the ask that you were already writing ch6, so I’m curious what made you pick the schedule you did!!

thanks again for sharing this fic with us, we are truly all so lucky to read it!!

ahhh!!!

well firstly I can't take the entire credit for this fic. @saiyanwitcher reached out to me after I wrote Give Me That Fire and offered to beta for me. As we were getting to know each other, she asked if I'd ever consider writing an Omegaverse fic, and I said yes, and here we are. But if there is any reason why this fic is better than the others, it's all because of her! She has spent so many hours brainstorming with me, proofreading, and pulling me back from the edge when I said "I want to do THIS" and she said "girl what" (she didn't really, everything I propose she says "alright, lets figure out how we can make that work").

I'm so delighted to hear you loved chapter 3! this whole fic is sooo different to anything I've ever written, but I LOVE exploring new themes and topics and ideas in fic - you'll never really catch me doing the same thing twice. pushing boundaries is what I love about fic, but it doesn't always pay off, so I'm SO happy to hear that people are loving this fic as much as they are.

as for your question ... which, firstly, like most artists I am extremely self involved, so talking about myself is like my fave thing to do lmao. I will answer literally ANY question you could ask.

but, posting schedule. after many years of trial and error while posting long fics, the thing I've found that works for me is that I need to have a fairly sizeable amount of the story in the can before I start posting. I usually like 5-6 chapters, but, more importantly, I want to know that I have the feel of the story before I start to post, because once I post I can't go back and change things. at about that 5-6 chapter mark, I know that I'm deep enough into a story that the plot is right, the characters are right, and the tone I'm using is right, and then I feel comfortable starting to release it out into the world.

from there, I post a chapter only when I finish a chapter. so I finished chap 6 on Tuesday, and then I worked on chap 3 on Wednesday, gave it to @saiyanwitcher to beta on Wednesday evening, and then by this morning she'd done a final check and I was okay to post.

my own personal goal is to write one chapter a week, with Wednesday being the day I'm always aiming towards. so this week I was actually a little later than my "schedule" because ch 6 was giving me a headache and it took longer to write than I wanted.

at this point, I know roughly how long it takes me to write one chapter for this story (a week), but I also know some of these chapters are harder to write than others so I HAVE to give myself some extra leeway (hence the maximum of 2 weeks).

I hope that kind of explained my thought process and as I said, I'm so happy to answer any questions!

[1dkreally]

I posted 1,874 times in 2022

That's 1,765 more posts than 2021!

112 posts created (6%)

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I tagged 1,773 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#1dk reblogs - 1,610 posts

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#@prev tags i had the same issue of thinking that borders between separate colours were their own colours because i saw 40+ colours at first

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

mARTch day 1: self portrait

first day of martch! since i did a proper self portrait the other day, i decided that it would be cool to do a meet-the-artist-type thing :]

13 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

#4

mARTch day 31: free choice!

i was originally going to make something digital, but since krita decided to play a fun april fools joke on me and stop working no matter what i did, i had to go through my physical pieces and find something i hadnt already showed off.

doing this art challenge has been really fun, though im glad the self-imposed pressure to stick to a schedule has been lifted off my shoulders lmfao

20 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

#3

I JUST GOT RICKROLLED BY A FUCKING LETTUCE

26 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

#2

forest horizon

reblogs > likes

39 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

mARTch day 5: fav things to draw

i love drawing my favourite characters from whatever media i have a special interest in and i really like drawing fire, so have chat from rtgame's miitopia playthrough doing what they do best: committing arson <3

62 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

<- prev | next ->

Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

————————————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

[youhavenocock]

Sister Company

An old friend of Maxim's drops in.

happy vore twenty uhm some slightly more graphic descriptions of prey post-digestion. specifically bones and chyme.

prev chapter  / next chapter / series starts here / read on Ao3

"See you at home."

Alexander stepped out of Maxim's private bathroom, wearing his weekend clothes. His Friday 'half days' were becoming a habit after last time. He'd learned to bring a towel and change of clothes with him to the office so he didn't have to ride home stuffed between a hard steering wheel and Maxim's guts.

Clean-up aside, spending Friday afternoons in Maxim's belly wasn't too bad. It could be surprisingly relaxing, although the alternative was work, so the bar was pretty low. He'd even fallen asleep for a bit, lulled by the warmth and constant, shifting pressure, and was only woken up by fresh Tums dropping onto his head.

Maxim, too, essentially took these Friday afternoons off. He couldn't hold any meetings in this state, and found it hard to concentrate on anything but Alexander. The first time, it had been out of concern for Alexander's safety, but now, he was simply awestruck by the sensation of holding his prey so closely, so tenderly, that Alexander had actually taken a nap in there.

"What else do you expect me to do," he replied defensively, blushing despite the cold shower he'd just emerged from.

"I'm not complaining, but...I dunno, 's kinda cute."

"You-" Alexander looked at his shoes. "Alright, see you at home, Sir."

He kept his eyes on the floor on his way to the elevator. The entire office thought they were fucking, but there was no avoiding that. As long as no one gave him shit for it, he didn't mind. How else could he explain spending hours in Maxim's office, and then reemerging in a different outfit? Winnie had warned him about this, but all Alexander could do was try to ignore the knowing glances as he headed back to Maxim's place.

Maxim had paperwork to finish before he could do the same. His own fault, really, for spending the past few hours doing next to nothing. Winnie had made it clear that, while other employees could cover for Alexander's neglected work, Maxim, as the boss, couldn't afford to slack off so much.

At least he had a whole weekend with Alexander to look forward to. Nothing special planned, but that was perfect, because his pred friend Roost had finally wrestled him into agreeing to have her over the week after. Her schedule was nowhere near as regular as Maxim's, but that irregularity came with long breaks between shifts. This time she was getting four whole days off, Monday to Thursday, and she was determined to spend them with Maxim.

Not that Maxim didn't want to see Roost. In fact, she was the pred friend he had kept in closest contact with since graduation had spat them into the larger world. Winnie was arranging their meals for the week, and Maxim couldn't deny that he was looking forward to a change from his standard office fare.

The only problem, naturally, was Alexander. He'd have to stay at his own apartment while Roost was here; Maxim was taking no chances. He hoped that Roost's company and steady meals would keep him from missing his favorite prey. He could get his fill--literally and figuratively--of Alexander this weekend, then gorge himself when Roost arrived on Monday.

But before he got to do any of that, Maxim had to finish this damn paperwork.

"Sir, shouldn't you be headed out?"

Maxim looked up from his desk. It wasn't terribly late, but it surprised him to see Winnie still in the office. "Hm? Oh, yes. Just had some things to finish before the weekend."

"I wish you'd told me you were working late, I would've scheduled your deliveries for later tonight."

"...What deliveries?"

"For you and your friend who's visiting. Ruth."

"She's not coming until Monday." He was certain that's what Roost had told him. But he was equally certain that Winnie did not make scheduling errors.

"There was a change in her work schedule, she-" Winnie stopped, like she had noticed a dead body that had always been in the room. With an overabundance of caution, she stated plainly, "She told me quite clearly that she had confirmed this with you."

Maxim didn't see what had spooked Winnie out of nowhere, but her mounting distress was rubbing off on him. "She probably forgot to mention it. Her shifts change so often. Very understandable."

"Where is Alexander."

"Winnie. Calm down."

She took a deep breath. "Sir, I find it an unnerving coincidence that a predator friend you haven't seen in ages just happens to drop in unexpectedly, considering everything else taking place."

The dots connected, but Maxim hastily erased that line. "You're being paranoid. She's a friend, that's all." That said, Maxim went straight to the door, giving Winnie a curt "Good night" as the elevator doors closed behind him.

"I hope you're right," Winnie fretted to herself. His empty assurances couldn't match the dread that had lodged itself in her mind. It was rare that Winnie's instincts were wrong. She hoped that this was one such rarity.

Winnie was being paranoid, had to be. For one, Roost wasn't some out-of-control monster who ate everything in her way. She had plenty of normal friends herself, so she had no reason to eat one of Maxim's. Or if she did, Maxim argued against his own unstoppable what ifs, she had to still be full after getting off work.

Consuming was essentially Roost's entire job. She was a lab rat, while Maxim was more of a field study. He didn't know the specifics of what the data was being used for, but that was likely intentional. Back in school, the researchers had been very vague about the data they collected and how the students were evaluated. In hindsight, Maxim found it all very shady, but Roost maintained that she didn't care what they recorded in their little clipboards as long as she got fed.

That was one detail Roost had no qualms about sharing: she ate much more frequently than Maxim did, and it showed. She was an enormous woman, and the ease with which she could devour a person put Maxim's to shame. Roost was a people-eating machine.

When Maxim finally got home, his front door opened before he got out of the car. A large figure stood between him and the interior of his house, arms wide open, a huge, goofy grin on her face.

"Maxie! Good to see ya, 'bout time you showed up!"

Maxim went in for one of the top five most bone-crushing hugs of his life. Roost was both taller and wider than he was, and based on that bear hug alone, there was plenty of muscle underlying that extra padding. Pretty much the same build as Maxim, but half a size bigger.

He clapped Roost on the shoulder. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

She grinned. "No prob! Your friend Alexander's been keeping me company."

Maxim couldn't help a glance at Roost's stomach. Even her impressive mass couldn't conceal a freshly-swallowed human body. Then again, it had been hours. If Roost had been at Maxim's house before Alexander had arrived...

"Come in, ya goof!"

Maxim put his gruesome arithmetic on hold and followed Roost to the living room. She was making small talk in his direction, but he only heard the hammering in his ears, eyes on Roost's feet. Somewhere outside himself, Roost was asking if he was alright. He fell into his armchair with a wumph.

"Seriously, Maxim, are you okay?"

Alexander's voice cut through the haze, and Maxim was able to look up and see him sitting on the couch next to Roost. Both were looking at him with concern, but Alexander especially.

"Sorry, sorry," Maxim grumbled, half-standing out of his slouch and into a more presentable position. He was alert now, fully conscious of Roost and Alexander watching him. Alexander was fine, and he would stay that way so long as Maxim acted casual. "Long day. I would've- I didn't know you were coming early, Roost."

"Mixup at work. I'm scheduled all next week, don't know when my next break'll be." She looked awfully comfortable, spread across 80% of the couch she shared with Alexander. It was hard for Maxim to believe she was lying. "Forgot to tell you. My bad. But you're not doing anything this weekend, right?"

"Yup. I mean no, I'm not," Maxim clarified hastily. Alexander was doing a better job at keeping his cool than Maxim was; smushed over onto half a couch cushion, Alexander leaned back with his legs kicked forward, as if a three-hundred pound man-eater wasn't sitting right beside him. Maxim couldn't imagine how he'd managed to stay calm when Roost had first arrived. "Winnie scheduled us, ah, reservations for tonight, actually."

"Sweet! Let me hit the can and we can head out." Roost slapped her thighs and rose off the couch, throwing in a lazy stretch before lumbering away. Mere hours after arriving, and already she acted like she owned the place.

"Maxim," Alexander hissed as soon as the bathroom door was shut. He was gripping his knees for dear life, seeming even smaller than he'd looked next to Roost.

"She- Roost is another, uh, like me, and-"

"Yeah! I figured!" Alexander's voice rose, raspy and exasperated. "I've never seen a single one of your friends and all of a sudden this woman who's even more of a beefcake than you shows up? I connected the dots."

"Fine," Maxim hissed back. "I didn't expect her to arrive so early. Did she...what did you tell her?"

"Just that we're roommates. And I think she bought it. And I definitely didn't mention any shady stuff."

"Good. Alright. That works," Maxim nodded to himself. "So long as we have our stories straight."

"But this is still- Maxim, I need to go."

"No, please, it's fine. She wouldn't eat you just for living with me." Maxim didn't sound as certain as Alexander would've liked. "We'll be back in a few hours, please stay in the bedroom until she leaves."

Alexander's eyes widened, and Maxim felt a pang of guilt. "Are you sure I shouldn't stay at my place?"

"If you're not here when she gets back then she'll KNOW you know something, and then she'd have no qualms about eating you." Alexander looked far from convinced, but Maxim's certainty wore him down. Maxim followed him to the bedroom, continuing to reassure. "Please trust me. You'll be safer here.'"

"Okay." Alexander's hand moved to the doorknob. "Um. Have fun."

"Yeah, bud. I'll see you soon." A pause. "...Keep the door locked. When it's all clear, I'll use the house key."

The last thing Maxim saw was Alexander giving him a steely nod before the door closed and locked from the inside.

"You should've seen your face!" Roost cackled. Maxim was driving them to the address of the hotel Winnie had provided along with a keycard. He focused his attention on the road and managed to keep his face neutral.

"You didn't really think I did it, did you?" Roost went on, elbowing his shoulder. "I was just messin' with you! 'Sides, I'm hungry for something a little meatier than that roommate of yours."

Maxim snorted. "No promises. All I did was hand your preferences off to Winnie. I don't know who the hell she wrangled up for us, so don't get your hopes up."

"Don't sell that gal of yours short!" Roost nodded toward the ritzy hotel Maxim was pulling into. "Can already tell she's got an eye for the finer things. I'm looking forward to seeing what she whipped up."

The two of them passed through the lobby without a second glance, Maxim holding the keycard conspicuously at his side. They rode the elevator up to the room Winnie had specified, and when Maxim swiped the card in the door handle, the light above it flashed green.

"Showtime." Licking her lips, Roost slid between Maxim and the door, while he lingered in the hallway, standing guard, waiting for Roost's 'ok'.

"We're good," she called from further inside the hotel room after a minute or so had passed. No one had wandered through the hallway in that time, so Maxim slipped inside. He set every lock on the door, and checked that Roost had already closed and blinded the windows. The two queen-sized beds in the main room were pristine and empty, but the door to the bathroom was wide open.

"Very nice selection. No surprise there," Roost said approvingly. Maxim joined her in the bathroom, and when he looked over the offerings, he had to agree.

The convenient thing about their operation was that it was a self-sustaining secret. Anyone who got too close to the truth was fed to the very thing they sought to uncover. Hardened conspiracy theorists learned to give this particular government cover-up a wide berth. It had different names in different circles, but the one Maxim was familiar with was 'Rapture'. People vanishing seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason, leaving not a single trace. The absence of bodies wasn't just a convenient cover-up, it was a sort of calling card that kept nosy would-be detectives far, far away.

But there would always be people who disregarded those warnings. A steady food source for preds like Roost, who ate too frequently to subsist off a single office. Or a surprise treat for preds like Maxim, who were only called in for 'jobs' a few times a year.

Two such people were waiting for them in the bathroom, a man and a woman, bound and gagged.

"Gotta hand it to her, she knows how to pick 'em," Roost said approvingly. She held the bound woman's head in one hand and turned it side to side, unmoved by the prey's muffled screams. Maxim's prey seemed upset by this. He wondered if these two had been working together.

Maxim wasn't as picky about his prey, picking him up off the bathroom floor and hauling him over to a bed. Satisfied with her inspection, Roost hefted her prey over her shoulder, holding her still with one arm while she adjusted the pillows on the other bed. Her massive form melted over the queen-sized bed like spilled molasses, leaning against her pile of pillows, resting the struggling prey on her stomach.

Roost looked across the gap between them. "You do the honors?"

She wasn't making any effort to pretend she wasn't judging Maxim. They'd had a friendly rivalry since their school days, though the competition had since skewed in Roost's favor. She knew she'd had loads more experience.

Then again, Roost wasn't eating prey off the streets. The test subjects she worked with were either restrained or sedated before they got to her. She may have  had Maxim beat in terms of stomach capacity, but Maxim might just be match for her in  terms of strength.

Another slight advantage was that Maxim was seriously hungry. He hadn't eaten lunch in order to save room for Alexander, and afterwards his stomach had been left stretched and empty. Normally he'd be filling up on takeout right about now, but here he had a much better substitute to fill his waiting gut.

Maxim immediately brought the man's head into his mouth, gag and all. Sweat and tears mingled with his saliva, helping to slide the prey along toward the entrance of Maxim's throat. He swallowed, slowly at first, then faster once he reminded himself that this wasn't Alexander. There were no post-meal scratches or bruises to worry about. He could mark up this meal as much as he liked--it would never be coming back up.

Free of those restrictions, Maxim devoured the man in moments. It hardly felt like he was pushing himself. He enjoyed the strain of his throat muscles kneading the man's flesh, the pained squirms in response, the predatory instinct taking over completely. He worked his jaw along the man's ribs, allowing his teeth to scrape against bare flesh. By the time he got to the legs, Maxim was practically snarling, gulping his meal further down with every breath.

Maxim's final, satisfied exhale came out as more of a growl. He could taste the prey's exertion on his lips, salty and just a little sour. The pressure from the inside of his gut was nothing more than a nice stretch. His abdominal muscles had already been through the wringer working on Alexander. This single-use prey would be a piece of cake.

"Alright, show-off," Roost chuckled, reminding Maxim that she was even there. She had been watching in silent approval. She'd never admit this to Maxim, but she'd fully expected to find his performance laughable, and had even prepared some snide comments. Now, she had to assure herself that she was still the stronger, hungrier one of the pair.

Seeing her companion reduced to a squirming bulge had left Roost's prey in a tizzy, twisting against her restraints with newfound panic. The doomed woman could do nothing but continue her muffled screaming as Roost lifted her off the bed. Her feet had been bound together along with her hands, but she was still able to kick at Roost, like a fish flopping at the bottom of a canoe. Roost grinned, and in one smooth motion, caught the woman's feet in her mouth and gulped.

Maxim watched Roost's neck bulge out as her prey kicked even harder, blows softened by the generous fat and muscle insulating Roost's esophagus. Roost lowered the woman further inside, as though feeding herself grapes. The prey's eyes darted around for some means of escape, but she was hopelessly trapped, both by Roost's unbreakable grip and her insatiable gullet.

The woman's hips gave Roost only a brief pause before they, too, passed her glistening teeth and were coated in saliva. Maxim didn't take his eyes off Roost, and  he realized she was maintaining eye contact with her prey. Every swallow, every wretched motion downward, Roost didn't let go of her prey's expression. She watched the woman's eyes widen as her legs were forced to fold, filling and stretching Roost's waiting gut. Her shoulders had no problem fitting between Roost's jaws, leaving only her head free.

Roost paused just long enough to remove the prey's gag with a performative flourish. The woman's scream pierced the air for a second before it was once again muffled, this time by Roost's lips closing over her head with smug finality. Roost's throat bulge traveled down her body and was absorbed into her already massive stomach, just another curve added to her collection.

Maxim chuckled at Roost's shameless grin. "And you said I was the show-off?"

They digested in blissful silence for a while, communicating only in belly gurgles and knowing looks. Aside from the high-class hotel root, it felt to Maxim like old times at school. He'd forgotten how nice it was to share a meal with another pred, to not be the only monster in the room.

When both of their dinners had quieted down, Roost broke the silence. "So what's new, Maxie? Hope you haven't been working yourself to death."

"If anything, I've been slacking, honestly," Maxim admitted. "Work's fine and all, but I've been preoccupied with...other things."

"Good. Glad you're getting out there. I ditch work every chance I get."

"Does this not count is work for you?"

"Naaaaw," Roost shook her head. "This is all pleasure, baby. No techs, no dents, just good food with a good friend."

"You said it." Maxim knocked back half a beer he'd grabbed from the minibar.

"Speaking of friends...what's the story with that scrawny new roommate? Last I checked, you were a lone wolf. Mortgage rates go up or somethin'?"

Maxim sobered at the mention of Alexander. Winnie's warning ran through his head, but he'd also been wanting to get Roost's opinion on things, test the waters, so to speak.

"It's not a money thing, really, it's...it's just nice to have someone around, y'know?"

"'Someone'. Sure." Roost raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of trouble to go through for one little meal. Especially when your girl Winnie is so accommodating." She slapped her gut.

Maxim frowned. "It's not that, either! Alexander's a friend, simple as that."

Roost looked Maxim over for a long second, her grin wavering. "If you say so," she shrugged herself into a light chuckle. "Friend, food, whatever. 'S important to keep those things separate, though. Remember that, Maxie, or you'll never be able to settle down."

"You're one to talk," Maxim snorted. "You have the biggest appetite of anyone I know."

"Sure, but that's work. When I go home to my girl, I leave Subject R behind. I'm just Roost, and we're both totally normal folks on totally equal footing."

Maxim's left hand, the one furthest from Roost, clawed at the bedsheets. "But that distinction, friend or food, that's all in your head, isn't it?"

"That's the beauty of it. WE decide. One way or another, the choice is all ours. Make sure you choose smart, Maxie."

"Sure," Maxim answered, keeping the disappointment out of his voice. Roost seemed awfully set on the binary approach, keeping friends and food mutually exclusive. Even suggesting any kind of overlap between the two might arouse her suspicion. So long as Alexander was under his care, Maxim wasn't about to risk that.

Maxim became exceedingly polite when it was time to leave. First, he offered to drive Roost straight to the hotel she was staying at, but she'd left all her stuff at Maxim's place. Then when they got to Maxim's place, he offered to run in and grab it while she stayed in the car.

"Such a gentleman all of a sudden!" Roost said, letting herself out of the passenger seat. "I can grab my own shit, 'll only be a minute."

Maxim followed her inside regardless, tailing her like a timid child. Roost gathered up her luggage and stood over the living room, hands on her hips, surveying it for a stray hat, or forgotten phone charger, or...

"Lemme say goodnight to Alexander," she said breezily. Her ease seemed too calculated to Maxim.

"It's late, Roost, I don't-" Maxim's objections did nothing to stop Roost from dipping into his spare bedroom, which was still very clearly not a bedroom but Maxim's gym/office/whatever space. She froze in the doorway, and her smile dropped.

"You and Alexander share a bedroom?" Roost's eyes narrowed. "Just roommates, huh?"

"Roost, it- it's complicated," Maxim pleaded. His eyes darted to the bedroom door, praying it was locked.

Roost followed his eyes with a slow turn of her body. "Huh. You know, maybe I should grab Alexander and try to clear all this up."

"N-no! Let him sleep!" Maxim bubbled over with tight, strained laughter. "Ahaaa, he had a busy day at the office. We all did, really."

Roost straightened up. "He works in your office?"

"Yes, but- no, he-"

"What are you hiding? Does he suspect something?"

"Roost, I can explain! Or, I can't explain, that's the problem, I was sorta hoping you could give me some insight." Maxim looked for his childhood friend, the one who answered any problem with a smile, no matter how dire. She was gone, now, replaced with a stern, capable pred, an impassable wall between him and the one person he needed to protect.

"Insight into what, Maxie?"

Maxim choked on air, unable to exhale until he spat out the damning truth. "See, because I've eaten him, but it's-"

The wall became a barricade, Roost's eyes going wild, her stance wide and threatening. "What do you mean, you've eaten him?!"

"-And let him out again, obviously, but- we have an agreement, and he definitely won't tell anybody, so-"

"He's food." Side-by-side with Maxim's stammering, Roost spoke with utter surety, those two short words representing an absolute truth.

Maxim squirmed under the intensity of her gaze. "Come on Roost, are you telling me there was never a prey that was different?"

Roost shook her head, refusing to yield any ground. "I don't talk to my food, I don't bargain with my food, and I damn well don't let my food move in with me. You're slipping, Maxie."

"I'm telling you, he's different." Maxim went on the defensive. "Nothing like this has happened to me before." He squared his shoulders, hoping to cancel out Roost's physical dominance, but that only made her angrier.

"Enough, Maxim!" she roared, slamming the side of her fist against the wall. "You know what happens to people who learn too much. Alexander's the same as the those folks in the hotel room. Stop fucking protecting him."

"He's NOT the same!" Maxim insisted, shaking with frustration. "You don't know what we have!"

"I know enough." Roost settled into herself, rage fading to something more like pity. "They- I heard something was going on, but I never thought-"

"You knew the whole time? Is this just another job to you?"

"I volunteered." Roost stared coolly down at Maxim, even as tears began pricking at his eyes. "Once I heard the rumors. Winnie's been sending updates, but they wanted a firsthand account. I didn't want to believe them."

"Who's 'them'?"

"You know who's 'them'," Roost sighed. She looked almost afraid to talk about them, and it was terrifying to think of the kind of person that scared Roost. "Don't make me have to go back and say you're a liability. Just do the right thing. Take care of it now, and it'll be like nothing ever happened."

Rubbing his eyes, Maxim stood his ground. "I'm not doing that."

"If you don't eat him, I will," Roost snarled back. "You may have gone soft but I can still pack 'em away. I'm sorry it had to be me, Maxie, but it'll be better for everyone in the long run."

"Not for Alexander it won't."

"He won't see it that way, sure. But what's he got here, really? Being your chew toy?"

"That's not-"

Deciding she was done with reasoning, Roost lunged for the bedroom door. The rattle of the doorknob was a relief, and strung some of the tension out of Maxim's shoulders. Roost kept at it a while longer, but was either unwilling or unable to bust the door down.

"Key," she ordered.

"Roost, no, not until you let me-"

"I listened, Maxie, and my mind hasn't changed." She wheeled on him and glared down from her full height. "Now give. Me. The key."

Maxim stumbled back a step. "I- it's- junk drawer-" The voice didn't sound like his own, but the words were there, and he could vaguely register Roost shoving past him, toward the kitchen where she began rummaging through his cupboards.

Maybe Alexander had been worried for nothing. Roost had been perfectly friendly to him from the moment he answered the door to her. Alexander had clocked her as a pred, but since she didn't eat him the second the front door was closed, he'd thought he was safe. After all, she was clearly a friend of Maxim's. And once Maxim got back from work, he'd be safe.

Then Maxim had insisted Alexander stay in the bedroom with the door locked. That was concerning, but Alexander convinced himself Maxim was just being extra careful. He didn't come out and say it, but he and Roost were obviously going out to eat people together. So Roost wouldn't even be hungry when they got back. And once she left, and Maxim unlocked the bedroom door, he'd be safe.

He heard the car pull up. Roost was in the living room, and she'd said his name. Alexander ran to the closet and hid. He hid there without thinking, like it was part of an emergency plan he'd been subconsciously constructing for hours.

He was not safe.

The sounds coming from outside the bedroom door were muffled, but he heard both Roost and Maxim raising their voices. He jumped out of his skin at the sound of the doorknob rattling. The door held steady. Roost stormed away.

He was not safe.

The doorknob made a different sound. A few soft clicks, and the door slammed into the wall with an amount of force that rattled the clothes hangers above him. Alexander bit his tongue, but there were only so many places for Roost to check before she got to the closet, throwing the door open to find him cowering in a pile of dirty laundry.

Alexander had expected to see a monstrous, unfamiliar face staring down at him, but it was the same Roost he'd been making small talk with earlier that day. A little more serious, and no less hungry, but no more of a monster than she'd been before.

He didn't have time to decide whether or not to struggle. Roost didn't give him the benefit of a villain's monologue, or even a half-hearted apology, she just picked him up and crammed him down her throat. He squirmed against her grasp, but the sheer strength of her throat made it feel pointless. There was also the dim, nagging hope that Maxim might find a way to save him, although the fact that he'd told Alexander to stay here and had then unlocked the door for Roost kept Alexander from giving it too much thought.

So, he was stuck being squeezed down a strange throat. Roost worked faster than Maxim did. That was the only mercy she would offer him--a quick, impersonal disposal. Alexander couldn't even feel angry with her. He'd had his chance to make a run for it, and he hadn't taken it. In retrospect, he couldn't understand why he'd trusted Maxim, why he'd believed that he'd be safer here than literally anywhere else.

Alexander was hyperventilating when he reached the stomach. He couldn't see what was waiting for him, but he cried out when he fell into the pool of thick, meaty soup bubbling at the bottom of Roost's gut. He flailed, but couldn't prevent himself from being submerged in the foul chyme, bumping against half-digested bones. It was likely for the best that Alexander couldn't see.

Immediately after Roost took her final gulp, her stomach resumed its work, folding Alexander into the remains of her last meal. A full-body sob escaped him, even as he fought to kept his mouth and eyes closed. The little air left in his living coffin was thick and putrid, dragging the reek of death through his nostrils and into his core. Every breath-control exercise he'd ever practiced was flushed from his mind. Nothing he could do would be any use. He belonged in the soup.

His world jerked and sloshed as Roost rose up. Terror and enzymes filled the rest of Alexander's senses, so he couldn't make out the click of the lock or the words rumbling above him.

"See?" Roost gestured at her bulging stomach, giving Maxim a friendly smile. "Was that so hard?"

Maxim hadn't been able to pull himself away from the door. He'd wanted to stop listening, but his feet were glued to his post right outside the bedroom Roost had vanished into, one ear pressed against the door. There was a ruckus of furniture being thrown aside, then a startled cry when Alexander's hiding place was found. Instead of screaming at Roost to stop, Maxim held his breath, dread filling his chest like cement.

No words from the bedroom, only the wet, muffled sound of flesh crushing flesh and Roost's strained breathing as she consumed Alexander headfirst. Maxim could half-convince himself that it wasn't Alexander being stuffed down her throat, not if he couldn't see it with his own two eyes. But the sight of Alexander's terrified expression as Maxim had said to keep the door locked was burned into his pupils. Alexander had trusted him completely, and for that, he was being devoured.

The noises coming from the other side of the door grew fainter. The sharp click of the lock startled Maxim back a step, allowing Roost to open the door. The skin of her stomach bulged and twisted, looking the same as it had after her earlier meal, but this time it left Maxim horrified instead of awed. He could see Alexander locked away inside her, forced to stew alongside her previous meal, terrified and alone.

Maxim had never felt so helpless.

"Let him out," Maxim panted over several short breaths. His chest was too tight to take in much air, but the rest of him trembled with unspent energy. His mind raced with the hundreds of things he could've done to prevent this, and now it seemed his body was trying to do them all at once. "Let him OUT!!"

Roost's bravado vanished. "Now calm down, Maxie. Let me explain."

"NO!" Maxim exploded forward, pushing Roost back into the bedroom. "You let him out, NOW!"

Roost stumbled backwards, but she was far too heavy for one little shove to topple her. "Maxim. You are sick."

"YOU'RE sick!" Maxim screamed back, moving to push her again. Without the element of surprise, he was stopped mid-lunge by a firm hand on his forehead. Roost held him at arm's length with one hand, without flinching, shaking her head like a disappointed parent.

"Stop acting like a child. You know this was necessary. It's over."

"No, it's not!" Maxim ducked under Roost's outstretched arm and made another lunge at her. Roost didn't bother dodging, instead absorbing the force of Maxim's body into her chest. She exhaled sharply, but was otherwise unhurt and unmoved.

"What are you trying to do?" she asked. "You know how this works. Shoving me isn't going to do anything."

He was running out of time. He was too afraid to look closely at Roost's middle. He didn't know what he'd do if Alexander had stopped moving. Roost was right, Maxim couldn't just punch Alexander out of her. Alexander wasn't getting out unless Roost chose to release him...or if Maxim didn't give her a choice.

Keeping prey down was Roost's job. But her job probably didn't entail having to fight another pred while doing so. Roost was bigger than Maxim--especially now--but he could use that to his advantage.

Maxim reared back. Roost prepared for another charge at her midsection, but Maxim instead dove for her feet. She reacted too slowly to dodge, and Maxim was able to grab her right leg and yank it forward.

It took a few yanks, but Roost was too topheavy to keep her balance on just one foot. Her arms couldn't reach Maxim in her current state, and when she raised her left foot to kick him off of her, Maxim was ready. One more yank, and Roost's right leg was pulled out from under her, sending her crashing to the floor like a grand piano. Her stomach fell half a second behind her, knocking the breath from her lungs, and she let herself fall flat, heaving air back into her overworked chest.

Roost got one solid inhale before her airway was blocked. Aside from the weight on her middle, her arms were also pinned to the ground. Maxim knelt on top of her, straddling her chest to avoid crushing Alexander. He had both hands around her neck, hot tears dripping from his terror-filled eyes.

"I will cut him out of you if I have to," Maxim huffed, pressing his full weight onto Roost's throat.

Roost spent what little air she had left to rasp, "'S not how...things work...'s not fair..."

Maxim's grip tightened. "You won't see it that way, sure," he replied, his voice chillingly calm.

Roost's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, but no air passed through. Maxim thought it had ended, but he heard two clear knocks on his hardwood floor.

"I tap," Roost gasped through trembling lips, a shaky fist trembling at her side.

Maxim relaxed his grip enough for her to take half a breath. "Right now," he ordered through grit teeth. "Right here, no excuses."

Roost nodded furiously. Keeping his eyes fixed on her, Maxim pushed himself off the ground, freeing Roost's arms so she could roll over. She immediately started to retch, intentionally or reflexively, Maxim didn't care. All he cared about was the bulge in her stomach shifting with purpose, resisting the sudden contraction of her abdominal muscles, rising slowly but surely back through Roost's gullet.

It was hard for Maxim to not grab Alexander as soon as his head emerged, but he restrained himself until Roost pushed out his torso. Roost gagged as Maxim pulled the rest of Alexander forcefully from her bruised throat and whisked him away to the bathroom.

Alexander regained consciousness in bursts. It had started when Roost had fallen to the floor, the jolt breaking him out of the half-dead trance he'd slipped into. His body forced rancid air into his lungs, and that reminded him of all the other pains wracking his body, inside and out. He was still getting his bearings when he was crushed again, and the pain dragged him back to unconsciousness, for what he hoped would be the last time.

Instead, he woke to another flair of agony, this one icy cold instead of caustically warm. His eyes were glued shut, but he heard a faint hiss, and a murmur that seemed too sustained to be a human voice.

Gradually, Alexander registered that he was safely in the bathtub, watching dark pink water pool around his battered body. The jets of water hurt his badly-burnt skin, but it was a refreshing kind of hurt, the kind that flushed out the nightmarish memory of what he'd just endured.

As Alexander stared at the bottom of the tub, the constant murmur sharpened into a voice.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

Maxim was rinsing his body with the utmost reverence, taking special care around his head and face, which had suffered the worst of the damage. Alexander was glad he'd chosen to sleep in long pajamas that night. They were ruined now, of course, but that was an easy sacrifice to make for his continued survival.

Alexander watched Maxim out of the corner of his eye. He didn't turn his head. "Leave," he said in a small, cracked voice. He was surprised Maxim had even heard him, but he left without a sound, quietly turning off the water, replacing the showerhead, and exiting the bathroom.

"I don't know how you do it. Something's not right with you, Maxie."

Roost was waiting for him in the living room. She held an ice pack to her neck, and her smile was more forced than usual, but she otherwise appeared fine. Maxim wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or not.

"I would've killed you," Maxim said matter-of-factly.

"Psh." Roost rolled her eyes. "I ain't dying for those bastards."

"But you'll kill for them."

Roost huffed. "Listen. Maxim. They're not gonna let you get away with this. Sending me in was a favor to you, a chance to keep things from escalating."

"I'm not afraid of them," Maxim bristled.

Roost nodded to herself. "I forget, you haven't been around anyone but Winnie since graduation. You don't remember what they're like." A haunted look passed over her face, bravado fading as some disturbing memory came to mind. "We only have this much free reign because THEY allow it. It's cheaper than keeping all of us locked in some godforsaken facility. But this stunt of yours is getting pretty fucking expensive."

"I don't fucking care."

"You should, because I care," Roost insisted. Her voice was hoarse, but that didn't matter to her. "I'm only saying this because I care about you, you bastard. Get rid of him now, because things are only going to get worse."

Maxim scowled. He couldn't argue her warning, but he wouldn't accept her solution.

"You know I'm right."

"You should go."

"Already called a ride." She tossed the ice pack onto the coffee table and stood up. Maxim took a protective step toward the bathroom, but she gave him a wide berth on her way to the door.

"When you come back to your senses, give me a call, yeah?"

Maxim stoically stared back. Roost nodded like he'd given her an answer. Maxim watched through the window until her car drove out of sight, and then he watched a few minutes more.

Alexander stayed in the bathroom for what felt like hours. He was already fairly clean by the time Maxim left, but that only made his injuries more apparent. Glad as he was to have that stranger's gory remains washed off of him, he knew that the blood that remained was entirely his own.

Aside from the familiar burns, his body was ridiculously bruised. Every small movement brought a new ache, another muscle protesting the abuse. Laying still in the warm bathwater was all he could do for a while, leaving only his face and hands above the surface, struggling to relax.

The water eventually went cold, and Alexander forced himself to his feet. Toweling himself off was an ordeal, the fluffy fabric rubbing against his sore-splotched hands like sandpaper, but he didn't think he had ever appreciated the luxury of being dry as much as he did now.

His reflection somehow looked even worse than he felt. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips were cracked, his skin oozed something clear and sweet. Alexander performed what little first-aid he could with basic antiseptic and bandages, but he suspected that this wasn't the kind of thing he would recover from overnight.

Maxim lightly tapped the door from outside. "She's gone. And I have fresh clothes for you out here."

Alexander's hand went for the doorknob. "Wait!" Maxim's shuffling footsteps stopped. Alexander gulped. "D-don't come in, but...I have to ask..."

"Yeah?" The door creaked as Maxim slumped against it, waiting.

Alexander mentally rehearsed his question before voicing it. "Why did you...do that?"

"I didn't know she-" Maxim's voice hitched. "Alexander you have to believe, I never meant-"

"Not that." Maxim stopped mid-sentence. Alexander took a deep breath, and asked, "Why. Did you stop her."

"I had to!" Maxim said earnestly. "There's no way I could let her...take you. From me."

Alexander winced. "It sounded like she was ready to kill you."

"She was going to kill you!"

"Yeah, but I'm already dead!" Rage burned through Alexander's broken body like he was coated in gasoline. He was so sick of being terrified, and anger offered itself as an easier option. "You know I can't make it through this, but you can. You keep telling me how important it is that we don't piss off your bosses, so why would you do all that just for me?"

"Told you. I had to," Maxim answered simply. "I'm the one who's eating you. Not Roost, not some fed, me. I can at least promise you that."

"Can you, though?"

Maxim wanted to scream yes, to demand Alexander's trust once again, but he didn't think he could bear to make another promise he couldn't keep. "I will protect you," he said instead. "Even if it kills me." That part was certain. It would have to be enough.

Alexander didn't respond immediately. "Okay. Thanks for answering me," he said resignedly. "...You can go now."

"...Right." Maxim marched himself back to the living room and into his armchair. He deserved everything Alexander had thrown at him--he deserved so much worse--but that didn't make it sting any less.

It wasn't that Alexander was afraid to leave the bathroom. He knew Roost was gone, and he knew Maxim wouldn't so much as touch him. But once he stepped outside, the timer would restart. A few days, maybe a week, but he'd wind up back in a stomach soon enough. Probably Maxim's, but that thought brought little comfort.

This cycle Alexander had found himself in, this catch-and-release, it was the best he could hope for. Time stolen from between a series of near-death experiences. As long as he kept nearly-dying, he would get to live a while longer.

Maxim was in the living room, pretending to be asleep in his armchair. His eyes were closed, but snapped open at the sound of Alexander's voice.

"Come to bed?"

Maxim wanted to say yes, but..."I can't, I- you know I ate earlier. I shouldn't."

"Please. I don't care." Alexander corrected himself, "I mean I hate it but I really can't sleep alone tonight."

"...If you're sure."

Alexander's nose wrinkled as he walked into the bedroom. It reeked of bleach and artificial lemon. There were some new scuff marks on the floor, a new doorknob-shaped dent behind the door. To Maxim's credit, Alexander didn't see a speck of detritus left over from what had happened. Just the artificial stench of cleaning products, and Alexander's grim knowledge of what they were hiding.

With the bedroom door locked behind them, Maxim gingerly stepped into bed next to Alexander, facing the wall. He tried to take up as little space as possible to avoid accidentally touching him. That'd gone badly the first time, and he couldn't imagine that this time would be any better.

"Maxim?"

"Yeah?" Maxim slowly rolled over to face him. Alexander was looking at him intently, but he didn't speak.

"Are you still angry?" Maxim guessed, without malice. "It's alright if you're still angry."

"No. Um." Alexander shifted his position, a little closer to Maxim. The unexpected warmth of Alexander's hand on his taut, round stomach made Maxim inhale sharply. He thought Alexander might be punching him again (that would make sense), but, no, Alexander was applying only a slight pressure, moving his hand up and down the curve of Maxim's gut.

It felt good, and Maxim was disgusted with himself.

"No, stop. Don't do that." He nudged Alexander's hand away. Blinking in the low light, Maxim saw that Alexander's eyes were distant, unfocused. He might've looked half-asleep if not for the tears streaking down his face. Registering that his hand had been pushed away, he met Maxim's eyes.

"Do you want me to go?" Maxim asked.

Alexander shook his head. His jaw clenched and his shoulders trembled. Embarrassed to watch him cry, Maxim pulled Alexander into the crook of his shoulder. The smaller man melted into him, his trembles turning into full-on shakes.

"A little longer," Alexander begged softly. "Just a little longer."

Maxim laid motionless in bed, letting Alexander dampen his nightshirt. He'd stay as long as Alexander wanted, but part of him knew that wasn't what Alexander had meant.

[enhas-bestie]

uni love [01]

chapter one: a written intro 🎠

you feel as if the world is against you when you finally walk out of hybe university’s administration office. on your way out of the building, your eyes catch sight of the golden plaque hanging on wall near the main exit. engraved on it in gentle cursive: hybe university--we strive for excellence and growth. please enjoy learning and maturing under our care.

you’ve never wanted to destroy a piece of metal so badly in your life. 

excellence? you scoffed. where was all that excellence when administration decided to fuck up your module registration? you thought as you nearly knocked over one of the potted plants placed on the outside steps of hybe’s main building. you looked around and clicked your tongue in annoyance. as beautiful as hybe’s campus was, what with all of their aesthetically placed potted plants and to die for interior and exterior designs, they sure still embodied one of the core aspects of any university : a fucked up administrative office.

your printed schedule and other registration papers weighed heavy in your hands as you moved to sit on the closest empty bench available. you damn near cried as you glanced one more at the papers. your eyes flickering over your assigned modules, the modules you had chosen : human anatomy (HA 218), molecular medicine (MMED 204), child health (CH 201) and medical biochemistry ( MEDBIO 211).  

but then, like an eyesore you couldn’t ignore, even though it was written in the exact same font as the rest of the words on the page : additional module : business studies (BUS 122).

fucking business studies. and of course, there was nothing wrong with business studies as a module. no, the problem was the fact that it was on your schedule. you, who did in fact apply for an extra module (you’d admit to that), but also you who applied for psychology to be your extra module. you, who had no interest in business or management or anything pertaining to the economics faculty whatsoever.

but apparently it didn’t matter what you wanted to do, because hybe had chosen for you.  

well maybe they hadn’t chosen for you per say. it was more like a registration error,, which to their credit they had apologised for--but, that error had resulted in placing you in the wrong class. and unfortunately, there was nothing they could do for you at this point in time.

like, nothing.

and you had asked, begged, and pleaded at the man at the admin desk to help you out , but all he had to say was : “i’m sorry, ms. l/n. unfortunately, classes do start soon and you’re already registered into the business course. the best we can do is have you complete the first term and then swap you in the new term.”  

and so that was the predicament you found yourself in.

“stuck in a business course i have no business being in...” you mumbled dejectedly. a short puff of laughter leaving your lips soon after, “hah,, no business being in...” 

a passerby stared at you questionably as they walked passed and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to glare at them for looking at you so judgmentally. you probably looked like a kicked puppy. and maybe a bit psychotic for laughing out of the blue like that...

and like all the other times life had decided to make you it’s bitch (and there were many), you do what you always do : post it on twitter.

prev -> chapter one -> next

synopsis : you have high hopes for your second year of university. so it’s a damn shame that your university’s administration messed up your timestable and put you in a business course you had no intention of being in. you’d think being assigned an attractive teaching assistant would at least make things a little bit better, but of course you were wrong once again. luckily, you’re allowed to swap modules in the new term, but only on the condition that you pass the business module. sounds good,, except for the fact that you’ve never done business in your life…but not to fear! TA Lee Heeseung promises to help make you pass your module.

p. s. do NOT fall in love with him :)

main UL masterlist

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[033] — epilogue!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: this is definitely not my best writing cause my brain was going brr the entire time i was writing this, but i honestly can’t believed i have finished yet another smau! 🥳 ✨if i’m being completely honest this smau took a complete turn to what i was initially planning,, but it ended up not being that bad. i certainly feel like this smau would’ve been a lot better if i didn’t have school preoccupying me 24/7, but i’m still really proud of this. thank you guys for reading and dealing with this messy, messy smau!! ☺️

a year flew by faster than you had hoped. Two weeks turned into a month, a month turned into six, and six months turned into a year. A lot of things can happen within a year. Hell, a shit ton of things can happen within six months, yet here you were, all glammed up in your best dress at the move premiere of love cemetery.

you hadn’t felt this nervous in ages. the quickening of your pulse, the rapidly beating heart, to your pals that perspired as the seconds ticked on by. akaashi stood by you this whole time as your gaze keeps looking over to the guest list as if it were to magically change if you were too look away for one second. akaashi had been by your side, your moral support and the absolute backbone of your sanity the moment you and the team landed in los angeles a year ago. he noticed everything about you. he was one of your best friends, how could he not notice the way you were suddenly quiet and not excited right now?

he laid a careful hand on the small of your back to comfort you, leaning over to the same list of guests you were worrying about. “are you worried about who i invited again?”

“i’m more worried they’re not coming.” you confess without a single beat missed.

“oh, they will,” he assured you confidently. there was even a rising smirk in his expression when he let go of you, “have a little bit of faith in me will you? i was the one who got you back in touch with them.”

you huff playfully, rolling your eyes as you recalled the strange feeling of isolation over six months ago when you landed in la. it was in no doubt the longest flight of your life, lasting a good fifteen hours if you counted the two hour layover in hawaii due to reckless turbulence (it was one of the scariest flights in your life too). you had read their texts then, drowning in the sudden downpour of emotions when you read their words, i love you.

it almost didn’t seem real. you swore it had to have been the fatigue playing games on you as you couldn’t sleep for the life of you on the plane. yeah, maybe that was it, you excused. you were so desperate for their messages to be a figment of your imagination, you literally tried everything—turning your phone on and off, asking sugawara for eye droplets, and even ignored it until you were back on the plane and landed in los angeles. it had to be fake, please be fake. yet, in the back of your head you knew damn well it wasn’t.

there was a plaguing thought within you, one that’s so destructive and degenerative that you hated the fact you thought this way. but it wasn’t like you could help it. insecurity was a troublesome venom that coursed through your veins everyday and there didn’t seem to be an antidote to your own self-destruction. 

you loved them both, but you weren’t entirely sure if you had enough love to give for the both of them, let alone one. iwaizumi and bokuto’s feelings confused you to the core. you broke their hearts, yet how could they still love you so dearly?

you didn’t know the answer nor did you have time to even find it.

the film crew stayed in los angeles for two weeks and filmed over the course of that time period. days were filled with twelve hour shoots and a tight film schedule. being the author of the work itself, you were a major part of the production alongside the director. he trusted your vision and you’d often find yourself staying on set the entire day while kaori and the rest of the ddd team felt like they were on vacation. your only free time during that time was the ten minute holy grails in between takes that you were able to check social media.

you simply didn’t have the time to think about them. and yet they were like haunting ghosts that followed you relentlessly. every time you checked twitter or instagram, you would see every post, every tweet, every story. all of which would send your heart spiraling and tugging.

you missed them. but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. you couldn’t possibly strike up conversation with any of them after completely ignoring their calls and texts for weeks. you had to have an odd amount of audacity to do that, and you simply didn’t have the guts to do so. if anything, the only lasting form of communication between you and the boys was the ringing notification that you liked each other’s posts.

it was quite the sad reality.

the film set then transferred to new york city, where the next two weeks would be filled with yet another plethora of twelve hour work days. fortunately for you, the rest of the ddd team were pulling a bit more of their weight, helping you on the creative side of things, yet still having the time to do all the fun touristy things whilst in the city.

you could remember the way your heart lit up seeing iwaizumi and bokuto’s names beneath who saw your story. it was a video of you and your team at the lady liberty statue. in it, kaori and yuko were chomping down on gigantic $2 street hot dogs, sugawara was yelling at semi for getting in the way of his film camera, while akaashi was complaining that the wind kept knocking down his green lady liberty hat.

it was strange thinking how fast things can change. within the first week, you were always up for an adventure in the city when the days were filled with work, but as the week progressed, your social meter decreased more and more. 

loneliness hit you then. it was a peculiar type of loneliness, the type that you felt alone despite being surrounded by your closest friends and working on your dream project. you figured you were just homesick the way everyone else was getting all ready for a night out going bar hopping while you sat in the living room of your hotel room in your pajamas.

“are you sure you don’t want to come with us, (y/n)?” kaori asked you, concern washing over her slightly as you flickered her a tired look. 

you shook your head, a small smile of gratitude melting upon your lips. “no, you guys go on ahead and have fun.”

your friends could only give you a look. they knew why you were being like this and they knew damn well it wasn’t homesickness. semi specifically threw you a look that’s meant to be teasing and oddly persuasive. “it’s been over a month, this can be a chance for you to finally meet someone new!” he exclaimed optimistically.

what was stopping you, anyway? it was clear nothing was, yet you still held yourself back. homesickness couldn’t possibly be to reason for it either. why are am i being like this?

“it’s okay, i’m with akaashi,” you decline once more, “he’ll keep me company.”

“alright then, join us once you feel like moving on.” says yuko with a hint of venom in her tone. you couldn’t blame her for saying that though as it was the harsh reality of it all.

your friends filed out the door, closing it in a thud and once again you felt alone. isolated as if you were in a void of your own silent thoughts that even the loud murmurs coming from the television wasn’t enough to drown out your shallow inhibitions. 

the night continued on like this for a few hours. eating snacks in the dark living room with the remote in your hand, flipping channels every five minutes as your running thoughts couldn’t keep your attention span still. it felt like you were missing something, a part of yourself that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. you thought of all of the possibilities why you felt like there was a void in your heart, yet the only thing you could properly convince yourself on was that you just missed home. but was that really all that you had missed?

you thoughts are interrupted by steps approaching you. akaashi walks into the living room, flicking on the switches and causing you to grimace at the bright lights. your eyes stung slightly as they adjusted from being in the dark for too long.

“where are you going?” you ask akaashi as you noticed his dressed up attire.

“i got done with all the paperwork and emails,” he answers while he fixes the collar of his dress shirt, “i’m deciding to have some fun tonight with the rest of the group. are you still up for it? i’ll wait for you to get ready if you want.”

the thought occurred within you that you should agree. that the possibility of this unexplainable feeling of isolation you were feeling would disappear if you were to just say yes and go. but as self-destructive as you were on yourself, you continued to hold yourself back—hesitant and always second guessing your actions.

you open your mouth slightly, but you ultimately just shook your head no.

akaashi lets out a sigh. he was genuinely hoping you would come around sooner or later. granted, it had been over a month since you guys left japan and he figured you would be over everything by now, but that obviously wasn’t the case. “you might be receiving a call soon... i suggest you should answer it.”

confusion flushed over your expression, giving him a strange look. but before you could even utter a single question to him, akaashi was already up and out the door.

he left you in a wake of curiosity for the rest of the night. it was nearing one in the morning and you still hadn’t yet received a phone call. it honestly sounded incredibly ominous that you grew a tad bit nervous. there were only so many possibilities on who would call, but it would actually infuriate you if akaashi was just joking around. but then again, akaashi isn’t the type to play something childish like that unless it was kaori or semi’s idea. regardless, the thought kept you awake as you eyes practically weighed like cinder blocks at this point.

you couldn’t believe you wait for two hours for a phone call that might not even happ—it shocked you at first, the ringing of your obnoxious ring tone and the buzzing of the vibrations on the table.

furrowing your brows as you reached over, a gasp left you the moment you read the contact name. your slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your shock. your hand shook from the growing bundle of nerves in your gut as you hesitate.

the name ‘kou’ shined brightly against your face, coaxing you to answer as if your thumb wasn’t frozen the accept button. out of all the possibilities on who would be calling you tonight, it just had to be him. it wasn’t like you opposed talking to bokuto. if anything, you had spent countless of sleepless nights wondering if you should finally answer that text of his. yet no matter how many different messages you have typed, none of them ever saw the light of day. a hurricane of stupid conversation starters and ice breakers swarmed in your head, all messy and disorganized that if you didn’t just suck it up and answered, you would’ve probably missed a chance to reconnect with him.

fuck it, you thought as you accepted the call.

“(y/n)!” bokuto called out to you, sending your heart running thousands of miles an hour. it had been ages since you heard your name come out of his mouth, “how’ve you been? a little birdy told me you needed a little company.”

you had to hold yourself back from smiling too much as you could already feel your cheeks ache. you wanted to scoff and perhaps groan at the sudden embarrassment of what akaashi could’ve told him. “bo—” you started, but is immediately cut off.

yet another familiar voice emitted from bokuto’s line, almost as if they were shouting, “you’re supposed to say that i’m here too, idiot!”

the volleyball player chuckles, “oh sorry, iwa-chan! here.” muffles and cups clanking against each other travel through to line to what you assume is bokuto handing his phone over to iwaizumi.

“uh... hi.” his voice sounded deeper than usual.

“hi iwa, how have you been?” you chuckle, finding his sudden shyness absolutely adorable.

“good, good. i’ve uhh... missed you.”

“i do too.”

“yeah, yeah, you miss me most though right?” bokuto’s loud voice thunders through the call.

the juxtaposition of how daftly different they were was something you could never get enough of. perhaps it was at that moment you finally understood your loneliness through their bickering. you were in fact homesick, but the home that you were thinking of wasn’t what you were missing the most. you suppose the home you missed was them. they were your home.

you let out an amused laugh, “right.”

“that’s good because iwaizumi and i should be mad at you for ghosting us for the past month, but we understand since akaashi explained to us already.”

your eyes suddenly widen into saucers, panicking what he could have possibly said. “what did he tell you?”

“everything,” bo sings.

you audibly groan in embarrassment, throwing your head back onto the couch in retaliation. you were glad they couldn’t see how flushed and red your cheeks were right now as they even extended out to the tips of your ears.

“you know it would’ve been easier to say that you love the both of us and didn’t want to choose right?” iwaizumi points out in between your panic.

“exactly!” cuts in bokuto, “besides we don’t sharing you, you know. who knew you were such a prude, (y/n).” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you couldn’t stop the heat from spreading any further from your face.

now you were really glad they weren’t able to see you at that moment. if they did, you would’ve died from the embarrassment then and there. “give me a break, i was too embarrassed to ask,” you mutter, fearing that they could hear how fast your heart was beating through the call.

“ask what?” iwaizumi teases, “ask if you could date the both of us?”

you were internally screaming at this point. everything that you didn’t think was going to happen, happened all within five minutes and you honestly couldn’t believe it. you were pinching yourself as if you were in a dream, yet no matter how hard you squeezed, this was actually happening. “shut up!” was all you could say.

“even if you did ask... it’s not like we could ever say no to you, (y/n).” says bokuto, his words so enticing that you weren’t sure if you’re heart can handle any more of this.

his words left you absolutely speechless. you honestly didn’t know what to say at this point.

"i’m fine with it and bokuto’s fine with it.” iwaizumi says, “it’s just a matter if you’re willing.” 

bokuto then leans forward towards his phone, “so what do you say, (y/n)?”

you swallowed the lump of nerves forming into your throat as the one question you never thought you would ever be asked was right in front of you. and yet you still hesitated despite everything that had just happened. you loved them both, so why weren’t you answering?

a few beats of silence passed before your gained the courage to push out the the very words, “... i’ll think about it.”

“boo! that’s lame!” bokuto shouts.

“i’ll give you guys an answer when i get back home.” you add, hoping to ease the disappointment they were probably feeling at that very moment.

“that won’t be for another few months, though.” iwaizumi deadpans that you could practically see the pout on both of their faces. “but we’ll promise to wait for you, (y/n).”

and so they waited for you to come back home, but you never did. schedules misaligned even when you were finally back home in tokyo. bokuto was getting progressively more busy now that the olympics were coming up and iwaizumi was just as busy, if not busier with the amount of athletes he had to take care of. there was even a constant flying back and forth from tokyo to los angeles for the film, all of which lasted for a few weeks at a time and you swear your couldn’t catch a break.

this went on for months with the only contact between you and the boys were from texting and phone calls that ended up shorter than you anticipated. and now a year had past since you left and this very movie premiere would be the first time you have seen iwaizumi and bokuto for the first time in a year.

this was so ironic how this all played out. you haven’t even realized you already reached the end of the red carpet when an interviewer calls out your name, microphone in hand and a camera pointed directly at your face.

“ms. (y/l/n)!” the woman shouts over the ruckus of snapping photos and other interviewers asking questions to the actors behind you. “there has been rumors going around about your dating life. are you dating msby’s bokuto koutarou or their athletic trainer iwaizumi hajime, who has been getting a lot of attention from stan twitter just recently! could you share some insight on your live life as love cemetery’s creator?”

“um,” you start, not sure how to answer the question as you nervous chuckled, “that’s a secret i’m afraid i can’t tell.”

before the woman could ask you any other questions, you walked away from the carpet and rushed towards the banquet hall. thankfully, akaashi and kaori was nearby and gratefully took your place in the interview without a second thought.

you let out a relieved sigh as much of the noise from the premiere died down as the only people inside the banquet hall were movie critics, the film crew, and other celebrities who were invited. by now, no one in this room would have the audacity to ask you such a personal question which caused weights to fall off your shoulder. you honestly should be used to those types of questions right now as a webtoon author that literally writes romance, but it always catches you off guard when you least expect it. honestly, you were just glad you didn’t slip up.

as a small little reward for yourself, you grab a flute of champagne from the refreshment table, decorated all fancy that you even hesitated to mess up the display. you turn around to face the growing crowd of mingling individuals, talking and laughing amongst each other as you sipped your drink gently. but as you watch you feel a presence on either side of you, both of which sent your heart soaring and a smile to appeared on your cherry colored lips. you didn’t even have to look them up and down to see how handsome they both looked. to think they were all yours.

“so what did you tell that interviewer?” bokuto asks nonchalantly as if he could just get away from a proper greeting. you were surprised he didn’t just engulfed you into his arms then and there.

instead, you opted to play along, “about what?” you tested with a smirk.

“the question about who you’re dating,” iwaizumi adds in from your other side.

you shrug, taking a sip of your champagne, “you guys probably wouldn’t like the answer i gave her.” you could feel the brazen stares bokuto and iwaizumi were giving each other—competitive and oddly provoking.

“she probably said she was dating me,” bokuto hums in response, confidence radiating off him that it caused you to scoff.

“i doubt it,” debates iwaizumi, giving him the same energy. “she probably said she was dating me.”

“actually,” you cut in before the two could possibly start bickering with each other, “i remember specifically saying that i’d thinking about it.” 

the boys give you a look, downing their drinks as if they were like the shots they swallowed many nights ago at that bar. it was as if they were trying to win your over again like your feelings had changed since then. 

“oh yeah?” bokuto starts, inching closer towards you while iwaizumi rested his arm on the table behind you.

“so what do you think, (y/n)?” says iwaizumi.

they both towered over you, just inches away from your body, but you didn’t cower or back away. if anything there was a playful smirk inevitably resting upon your lips.

now this, was going to be fun.

fun facts! —

sugawara has five rolls of film he had to get developed once they wrapped filming in osaka, each roll is from each city they went to for filming

iwaizumi and bokuto became really close friends when y/n left for la as they bonded over getting ghosted

bc of this,, bokuto posted a pic of him and iwa on his instagram and it got lots of attention that iwa went viral on stan twitter

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogrils @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 132

Yes, I know... it’s late again :(

I realized at about 1030a this morning, when I was 30 miles and a minimum of 7 hours from my computer. The guilt was real.

Also, I recently upgraded computers, so I apologize for any editing errors.  Honestly, I don’t have my preferred word processing program on here to check and make sure all my flavor editing is done correctly, so I’m probably going to come back and re-do it when that’s available.  However, I PRIDE myself on the fact that I may post a few hours late, but never the next day! (even though my deadline is technically Tues or Thurs each week?. I dunno)

Quick kudos to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, and @charlylimph-blog for being my writing team!

The next morning, I staggered into work very much regretting the onions that I dared to put on the table the night before - I had only gotten a few hours sleep the night before thanks to two rather tall men who shared a tendency to snore like congested warthogs. Fortunately, Vati and Hannah were off today, so I didn’t have to hide the gargantuan yawns every few minutes.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t spared from the sarcastic wit of my assistant, who breezed in the door and simply arched an eyebrow at me. “Hmm, having a coffee day, I see.”

“I can’t look that tired,” I grumbled, shoving my hair out of my face and sulking into my cup - which unfortunately did contain coffee, as predicted.

“You do smell that tired, I am afraid.  And by you, I mean the deplorable muck you are drinking.”

Alistair wasn’t a fan of coffee, obviously, but I was admittedly drinking a really strong cup of it. “The guys had a terrifying amount of onions with dinner last night,” I confessed.

To my satisfaction, he wrinkled his nose. “Delightful.” He also despised onions, more so than he did coffee. “Fortunately, you have quite a sparse schedule this morning.”

Shaking my head, I broke the news to him. “Change of plans. Xio got the list of shelter locations back to me and Tyche yesterday, ironically after we had been complaining about not having them. Pretty sure she was listening in.”

The eyebrow arched again. “Another ‘sensor test’, I assume?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I shrugged. “We wanted the list, we got the list. And an ersatz apology in the form of which area can hold how many people, which makes our end much easier.  Bump it up against a map of who is closest to which location, and half our work is done.”

I flicked the list to the emitter on the conference table, and got started. Since Parvati and Hannah were up to their eyeballs in their plotting for the Food Festival, and our job had been significantly lightened in regards to deciding shelter locations, I made the executive decision to take the lead on this project and pull in Tyche for assistance if Alistair and I needed it.  Maybe Arthur if I got desperate for extra help, but working with him and Alistair at the same time was chancy at best - they spent so much time snarking at each other, it could be harder to get work done than if I did it alone sometimes.

Soon, Alistair and I had a map of the Ark, with all shelter locations highlighted and the data from Xiomara’s report overlaid. I had my head down, programming the shelter locations to change color when the capacity limits Xiomara provided were reached, when Alistair noticed something. “Why, pray tell, are the Archives on this map?”

I didn’t even look up. “Probably because it’s the furthest location on the ship from the real-space engines, so it’s the safest place if someone tries to blow those.”

“You are mistaken.” He tapped on the table to get my attention. “The Archives are right on top of the engines, which is why it was available for use: when it was empty, the room was so noisy it was difficult to be in there for more than a handful of minutes.”

Shaking my head, I tapped the ‘front’ of the ship to highlight it. “These are the real-space engines, apparently. When we drop out of relativistic space, these will fire to start slowing us down as we approach Von. These,” I tapped the ‘back’ of the ship, “Are the relativistic engines, which we are using now, which is why that room was so loud when you found it.  According to Noah, for safety purposes, they are housed at opposite ends of the ship.  Also, pretty sure no one is going to try to blow the relativistic engines.  Something quantum physics related that made sense but I would probably explain it wrong.  Big boom, big shrink, no survivors is the gist.”

The disgusted look he gave my explanation was glorious. “So people will be in the Archives, no doubt touching things.”

“They’re books, Alistair. They are meant to be touched and read.” Glancing at the map, I was actually impressed - I never realized how large the Archives were.  They made up nearly an entire deck, albeit the second-smallest on the Ark. “Hang on, someone is already assigned there? Did you do that?”

He scoffed. “I certainly did not, I assumed you had.”

“Nope.  Must have been Xiomara,” I trailed off before tapping the icon indicating an assignment to see who it was.

I started to smile, only to be scared out of my mind by Alistair suddenly shouting. “NO! Absolutely not, I will go tell Councillor Kalloe myself. I - I shall duel her if need be! I refuse to allow this to occur.”

“Alistair, if you duel Xiomara, you’ll probably wind up dead. You know that right?”

“It is only over my dead body that you will be sheltering the Archives. Absolutely not.”

“I’m not going to hurt your precious books, you know that. If anything, I’ll be able to make sure no one else does, either.”

“Not going to hurt the books!?” he nearly shrieked.  I was starting to worry about how hysterical he was getting before he pinched his nose and took a few breaths to calm down. “Madam Reid, I am aware that you will not, through deliberate action or mischance, directly harm a single item in that Archive. I am equally aware that there are certain things that you are distressingly oblivious to, one of which being your own poor luck, if events that take place after being rescued from a global infrastructure collapse can count as poor luck. I shall endeavor to clarify to you why I am so concerned with this.”

Uh oh. He was being very formal.  This was never a good thing.

Before I could object, however, he forged on. “This entire planning exercise is aimed at what, precisely?”

“Designating shelters for non-combatants,” I answered slowly, confused.

“Shelters in the event of what?”

“If we are forcefully boarded in the month after we drop out of relativistic space?”

“Correct.  Which is clearly a bad thing, true?”

“True…”

“And what, remind me, do you have a tendency to do when bad things happen?”

“Plow into the middle of them, which is probably why Xiomara wants me as far from potential combat as possible, so I can’t - “

“Dying, Madam Reid. You have a tendency of dying.”

“Almost dying,” I corrected meekly.  I could unfortunately see where this was going.

“Whenever bad things happen on the Ark, the bad things find you,” he almost hissed. “And I would rather that they not find you in the middle of the only books - potentially the only artifacts, period - that we have from Earth.”

“It may distract them from killing me?” I pointed out.

The glare he gave me rivalled Tyche at her worst.  I probably would have been flattened, had I not built up immunity to far more vicious gazes. “No, this won’t do at all. I must speak to Councillor Kalloe immediately.  And quite likely to Farro.  Let me update the less-endangered Reid that she shall need to arrive early to assist you…”

Any attempt I made to try to dissuade him from the abrupt shortening of his lifespan was ultimately ignored.  As he tried to breeze past my sister, I resorted to grabbing his sleeve and physically stopping him. “Alistair!  You cannot go fight Xiomara to make her put me somewhere else! It’s not worth it!”

He stopped in his tracks, confusion flooding his face. “Somewhere else?  Madam Reid - please unhand me, thank you - whatever gave you that impression?”

“You - the books - dying… I’m so confused. What are you going to fight Xio about, then?”

“I cannot argue the logic of keeping you as far from the engines as possible, nor the logic of placing you as close to something that would deter any invading parties from making rash or reckless decisions.  It is likely quite safer for the ship, in all honesty.”

“Then…?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I am going to speak to Xiomara about removing myself from the non-combatant list and instead being one of the persons assigned to the Archives to defend it from any hostile parties,” he admitted.  “Farro will need to help me brush up on defensive techniques, but I am certain it will be easier to keep the Archives from disaster if I protect it myself.”

“Hey!” Tyche objected. “I’m already assigned to the Archives! She’ll be safe!”

Turning on a heel, he waved a hand over his shoulder dismissively. “You protect your sister from invaders. I shall protect the Archives from her.”

As the door closed behind him, she gave me a baffled look. “Long story,” I sighed. “I’ll explain while we start allocating people.”

<< Prev   Masterlist  Next >>

[mmilkbreadd]

Chapter twenty three: “Bokuto Hates Goodbyes”

Masterpost - Prev - Next.

Warning(s): post-timeskip manga spoilers!!

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“Tendou is going to quit volleyball after graduating. He wants to go to Paris to work as a chocolatier” you said, never taking your eyes off him. You sighed again, trying to find the words to tell him. Bokuto noticed your pause and smiled at you waiting for you to reply. “And I... I'm going with him.”

Koutarou's smile faded, along with the hope in his heart. 

Silence took over the atmosphere. You were trying to look at Bokuto, but he kept his gaze on the snowy ground. Neither of you had opened your mouths to say anything. Maybe because the correct words did not exist to express what you were feeling at that moment; you, remorse, and Bokuto didn't even know what to feel. Sadness, melancholy, happiness because you are going to fulfill your dream... fear of being forgotten. 

So many things to say, feel, live. 

“Why?” he asked, still with his gaze on the floor.

“Why…?”  you lashed several times. “Because I want to be a baker, fulfill my dream and my grandmother's... It's what I want, Kou.”

Koutarou started to shake his head from side to side, his hands over his hair. 

“Yes I know, but Paris?”  Bokuto looked at you for the first time, his eyes filling with tears. “That's like a million miles away!”

The snow kept falling on you two and the cold seemed to increase, but neither appeared to notice. The moment seemed eternal: Bokuto's tears that still did not come out, the imminent farewell, the silence that still continued ...

“We can continue to be friends, Koutarou, you shouldn't worry” the Owl turned to the opposite side of the school, and started walking away quickly. “Bokuto! Bokuto!” there was still no response on his part. “Koutarou, wait!”

Even though in his mind Bokuto had planned not to return, hearing his name come out of your mouth once more, he stopped short. He quickly turned to see you, your nose was red from the cold, and smoke came out every time you spoke when you apologized to him.”

“I don't want to be friends” shouted Bokuto looking straight into your eyes, with a tear rolling on his cheek. “I do not want you to go! W-we're just getting to know each other! It's not fair.”

Bokuto pouted while still staring at you. 

“We still have time, I won't be leaving for another month,” you said, but you knew it wasn't enough time. Not even a thousand years would be. “We'll talk on the phone!”

Promises that were very difficult to keep. Even if you wanted to, with the exams that would be shortly, and then in the cooking academy, it would be impossible to maintain much contact. You didn't know if you could even keep it with Emiko and Wakatoshi.

“Don't say things that later won't be true,” Bokuto said for the last time, wiping the tears that fell from his eyes. “Bye, y/n.”

And in a last act of desperation, you grabbed Koutarou by the wrist and then grabbed his coat tightly, then brought your lips together with his. 

After a few seconds, the light of a flash interrupted you.

“I'm sorry?” Emiko said with a nervous little smile. She had taken a picture of you kissing, and now she was slowly walking away so she could escape your creepy gaze. “I better go, haha. Byeee.”

Again the silence had taken over the environment. But this time, Bokuto's face was completely changed. His cheeks were flushed and he had a big smile on his lips.

“You like me too?” he asked suddenly. 

And even though you were speechless, you were able to whisper a little “yes”. Bokuto without warning held you with his arms, hugging you, and then started jumping up and down several times.

“Wait, we were fighting two minutes ago,” he said, making an angry face, but then his true colors showed and he started laughing. “Hey Hey hey! It no longer matters, we must take advantage of every second. Get ready, y/n, I'll come tomorrow at nine in the morning! Well maybe not that early, but I'll come before lunch!”

And here was another example where you could see the captain of Fukurodani change his mood quickly.

You said goodbye and you entered the academy again, thinking about how to assassinate Emiko. 

Tomorrow would be the last day you would see Bokuto in a long time.

And maybe forever. 

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Just as Koutarou had said the night before, at eleven in the morning he was at Shiratorizawa's gate, waiting for you to come out. It was not as early as he would have liked, but he had also arrived very late at the hotel, so he needed to sleep as well. Even though you were already walking towards the exit, two people arrived before you.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” Tendou greeted. “Let's get straight to the point, what are your intentions with the little y/n? Ushijima and I are not very convinced that you go out with her so often. You were too late last night, and now it's too early. I hope you are not doing strange things out there. This is not Tokyo, my friend.”

“He is not your friend, Tendou” Ushijima said in a whisper, with his deep voice.

“I know, best friend, but I want to intimidate him” Satori whispered back, but he didn't realize that Bokuto had heard everything. 

In the distance, you came walking next to Emiko. You had already forgiven her for last night's photo, although she still hadn't deleted it from Twitter, and had even put it as your profile picture for a few hours until you noticed and took it out. You can tell that Tsukasa almost ran out of roommates. 

“Hey, aren't those Satori and Wakatoshi talking to your boyfriend?” She asked you, pointing to your friends and the one who wasn't your boyfriend really.

“I'm going to kill them.”

You sped up your pace to get there as quickly as possible and avoid disaster before it happens. But to your surprise, when you got to where the three of them were, all you could hear was laughter. Yes, even Ushijima.

“What is happening here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Satori, who you thought was responsible for this situation. And as always, you were right.

“Oh, nothing, y/n. Just old friends remembering old times” said Tendou with a rather forced laugh. Then, Ushijima and Bokuto also began to laugh out loud, while Koutarou made a danger signal with his eyes, and Emiko watched the situation in disbelief.

“I think Koutarou and I should go now” and before any of your friends could say anything, you grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket and trotted off to Miyagi's main park.

Behind you, you could hear Tendou's screams calling for you to come back, but you ignored them and kept walking quickly in front of Bokuto.

Arriving at the park you could see several children with their parents playing in the snow, despite not having snowed today, there was still a little snow on the trees and grass.

“Thanks for saving me, things were getting ugly there,” he said as he took your hand that was on his sleeve, to be holding hands normally. “I have bad news.”

More bad news? You didn't think you were going to be able to endure another misfortune this weekend. It seems that Bokuto noticed your desperate face and squeezed your hand tightly to encourage you.

“They have suspended my bus for tomorrow, they say there will be a snowstorm in the afternoon so they have changed the schedule.” Nothing went right for tragic volleyball lovers. “I'm leaving tonight, so we can't see each other tomorrow.”

The world fell at your feet. How could everything go wrong for you? A lot of drama has existed lately.

“And now what?” you asked him.

“We live in the moment!” and without saying anything else, Bokuto started to run towards the ice skating rink, never letting go of your hand. 

The ice was full of small children, who watched Koutarou every time he made a few meters and fell letting out a scream. The kids laughed at the Owl's exaggeration, causing him to make it even more dramatic to obtain more laughter. Every time you fell, Bokuto would rush to get up and ask you if you were okay, even if you were laughing at yourself and had not suffered any injuries.

After skating for half an hour or so, you decided to go for lunch because it was already quite late. You went to the same cafeteria that you had gone to the day before, and you ordered something warm since today's temperature was even colder than yesterday’s. 

At the end of lunch, Bokuto asked you to show him around the city, although there was not much to show as it was quite small compared to Tokyo. You showed him where Karasuno High was, but you didn't go there since it was relatively far from where you were. He took several photos and sent them to Akaashi, and then to his mother. 

The hours passed quickly, reaching the time of curfew, which meant that you had to go back to school, and Bokuto to his hotel to find his bags and go to the station. Unfortunately, you could not accompany him before his bus leaves. 

“It's time to say goodbye,” you told him once at the entrance of the academy. "Thanks for coming to visit me, Kou.”

Before saying something to you, Bokuto put his arms around you. This time neither of you were crying, nor were sad. You were happy for the time you spent together.

“Goodbye, y/n, I'm going to miss you” and with a lot of bravery in his heart, Koutarou brought his lips to yours one last time. 

“I promise to call you.”

And so, Bokuto Koutarou said goodbye with a sad smile, knowing that that promise was nothing more than an empty promise.

And that at the end of all, it would not be kept. 

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A/N: I know Bokuto’s hair isn’t exactly accurate in the photo but it was the best image I could find😩😩 sorryy

Btw who wouldn’t leave everything behind to go to Paris with Tendou Satori? I wouldn’t even think about it, my bags are ready!

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[settersloveletters]

MR. HOTSHOT CEO

— part nineteen; yui

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⤷ y/n is an outgoing and bubbly girl who just landed a job as a secretary for bouncing ball corp. kenma kozume, ceo of bouncing ball corp, works secretly as a gaming youtuber and streamer under the name kodzuken. after a miscommunication and y/n learns the truth about kenma both their worlds collide. what does fate have in store for these two?

a/n: AND ITS HERE,, this is the final chapter for MHSCEO (chapter 20 is the epilogue) i decided ti make it a written part just bc there were too many things that needed to be explained. anyways thank you guys for reading this series and i’ll see you in the epilogue mwah !

oh! and pls make sure to stream OYA for clear skin !!

➳ word count: 3.2k

➳ warnings: workplace harassment/bullying; mentions of drinking and alcohol

➳ written by: kiri ♡

[ ! ] written part is under the cut

The thirty minutes passed by quickly, and soon (Y/N) found herself sitting in the passenger’s seat of her boss’ car. Now that she was actually with him, she had no idea what to say. She stole a glance at Kenma, wondering what he was thinking. So many things had happened within the span of 24 hours; she wasn’t watching how much alcohol she was consuming, which then led to a picture of her and Kuroo getting posted across the internet — she cursed herself for that — but when she learned that Kenma also had one too many drinks, and proceeded to film himself drunk on camera, (Y/N) couldn’t have blamed herself more for everything.

“Stop blaming yourself.” Kenma’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Her head turned to look at the blonde, who still had his head facing towards the road. Those were the first words he had uttered since (Y/N) got into his car.

“How can I not blame myself”

Kenma’s eyes glanced at her quickly, before refocusing on the road. “It was my choice to be careless and drink that much (Y/N).”

She watched the blonde carefully, one particular question sitting on the tip of her tongue. “Why’d you become so distant Kenma. Why did you keep avoiding me?”

The Youtuber pursed his lips, staying silent for a moment before opening up his mouth to reply. “I was...I was just hurt.” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed at his words.

“Hurt?” She gave him a confused look. “I hurt you? When did I— what did I say to you?” she had a panicked look in her eye.

“No— (Y/N), you’re not the one who hurt me. Well, I’m not saying that you didn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to really process anything, but when I say that I was hurt, I wasn’t talking about you, (Y/N).”

That made her even more confused. “Then who are you talking Kenma—”

BZZT! BZZ! BZZT!

(Y/N)’s phone buzzed in her lap, interrupting her question. She had gotten a text. Her eyes widened as she bit your lip, hesitating before lifting up her phone to unlock it. Kenma took note of that, and when the car reached a red light, he turned his head to study (Y/N)’s face. He watched as her eyes read over the text that she received, eyes starting to water a bit. Her expression turned grim, and she sniffled before turning off her phone and stared out the window. What could have made (Y/N)’s mood turn sour?

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, and placed a hand over hers which pulled away, bringing it to her chest.

“Please, just, not yet Kenma.”

The two of them remained in silence for the remainder of the ride to Kenma’s house. (Y/N)’s mind too focused on the text she received, and Kenma too focused on what made her upset.

---

Once they both arrived at his house, Kenma told (Y/N) the directions to the room he wanted her in before going down a different hallway, leaving her alone. She walked straight down the hallway she was currently in, smiling softly when she passed by his recording room. If it wasn’t for that same recording room, she would have never found out about Kenma’s double life as a young CEO and a famous Youtuber.

(Y/N) passed by two more rooms, before reaching the room Kenma said to wait for him in. Sliding the door open, she scanned the room before her. The floor was covered with tatami mats, a small table sitting on top of them right in the middle of the room. On one wall, a painting of a small tabby cat taking a nap in a flower bed was strung on one of the walls. Across the same wall, led to his backyard, which just so happened to be a garden.

“(Y/N),” she turned yourself around to see Kenma standing behind her, holding what seemed to be a tea set on a silver tray. “Come on.” he said, walking into the room.

(Y/N) followed him and sat crossed-legged on the tatami mats, gazing at the garden the room was beside. She didn’t know why, but the garden certainly calmed her down. Still staring at the garden, she heard something being placed in front of her on the table. Kenma had placed one of the teacups that was on the tray he was carrying in front of her.

“Tea?”

Kenma nodded, as he held the ceramic teapot and poured some into her cup. “Chamomile tea. It’s to calm you down a bit, you were shaking a little in the car, and even when you were coming into the house.”

The girl had barely noticed it. (Y/N) bit the bottom of your lip due to habit before asking, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be knowledgeable on tea.”

“Oh he isn’t sweetie,” a voice said from the direction of the garden. (Y/N) looked over to see an elderly woman sweeping the floors outside. “I saw him in the kitchen looking at the various teas we had. He ended up asking me what tea was the best to relieve one’s stress and anxiety.” the little old lady smiled, before sweeping away from the room.

When she looked back at Kenma, she could see him avoiding her eyes, a small tint of red could be seen on the tips of his ears. ‘How cute.’ she thought to herself. That elderly woman must have been Kenma’s caretaker.

“So,” (Y/N) started off after taking a sip of her tea. “If I wasn’t the person you said ‘hurt’ you, who were you talking about then Kenma?” she asked, as she recalled their earlier conversation before you were interrupted by that text message.

Kenma sighed, “I don’t like bringing this up,” he gazed into his tea cup. “But this happened a few months before I had met you.”

(Y/N) focused her attention on the blonde that was seated in front of her, as he started to tell his story.

“I had already made a name for myself in the business world. Sealing business deals, coming up with new concepts and ideas that no other businessman had thought of yet. I didn’t have a secretary yet, since I seemed to handle everything already, but Kuroo suggested I hire one thinking I’d become too busy to look for one later on. I trusted him on that, so I ended up hiring a woman around your age. Her name was Yui.”

She couldn’t remember if Kuroo or Kenma spoke of this Yui, but she noticed how tense Kenma got when he mentioned her name. “What did she do?”

He crossed his arms, and rested them on the table before continuing. “Yui played her role as my secretary to a T. She handled and scheduled my meetings within the first hour of her shift. She didn’t need any supervising when it came to typing any sort of documents I needed. Her papers were written excellently. She was the model secretary.”

“If she was the model secretary, why is she gone?”

“About three months into her position, she started to get closer to me. She would try to start up conversations with me. She would text me outside of office hours, inviting me out to dinner or drinks. I didn’t know what game she was playing at, and when I had asked her about it, the only thing she said was that she wanted us to be friends. I didn’t see a problem with that, so we went out a few times for lunch and dinner. I had started to talk to her more often, even video-calling her sometimes. We had our little inside jokes and banter that made my day. I started to develop feelings for Yui.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. It sounded like Yui reciprocated Kenma’s feelings, so what went wrong?

“I was never the best when it came to dealing with my own feelings and emotions — you can ask Kuroo that — so I never acted on them. I didn’t wanna ruin the relationship I already had with Yui, so I just stayed quiet. I was perfectly fine with just being friends with her.”

Kenma’s mood started to turn grim, and (Y/N) could tell something bad had happened between the two.

“I had completely forgotten about a lunch Yui and I planned one day, because of the endless paperwork I had to go through. I was behind on a video for my youtube channel because of it, so I started to record a short one. It looked like Yui was waiting for a while at our usual restaurant, and when she tried calling me it had only gone to voicemail because I turned off my phone during the recording session. Yui came here looking for me. She told my caretaker that I had invited her over, and she walked in on me finishing up my recording. Just like you, she found out about Kodzuken.”

Another person found out about Kodzuken? And they were also a secretary for Kenma? ‘Huh, what are the odds.’ (Y/N) thought to herself.

“When she found out, Yui promised and said that she would keep it a secret. I trusted her words. On the way out, Kuroo stopped by and I introduced the two. A few weeks passed and I noticed that Yui had started to grow more distant. We started to talk less, she passed on any lunches or dinners I invited her too. I started to get confused, and hurt. I thought that we’d gotten pretty close. But it turns out that Yui was just playing me the whole time.”

(Y/N) and Kenma both finished their cups of tea, and she moved to pour both of them a second one. As she poured the tea in his cup (Y/N) asked, “How was she playing you?”

“I was heading towards my office, when Kuroo texted me saying that he was dropping off some stuff his father asked him to pass on to me. I noticed that Yui wasn’t at her desk, so I thought that she was just running late. Pretty dumb of me now that I think about it, since Yui was never late to a shift. I ended up walking in on Kuroo and Yui, who had her arms wrapped around his neck bringing him down to kiss her. The minute I opened the door, Kuroo pushed her off glaring at her. He passed by me and I already knew that Kuroo had no intention of kissing her. I asked Yui what she was doing, and instead of her kind smile, she wore a different expression. One that felt darker. Turns out that the Yui I thought I knew was just an act.”

Kenma recalled how he was feeling back then.

“I was so confused then, and Yui just laughed at me. When I asked her to explain what the hell she was doing, she just laughed at me. Apparently, she put on that nice girl facade to get closer to me. She never really wanted to be friends with me, nor did she want anything else to happen between us. She saw me as this young rich guy who had power in the business industry and thought she could have used that to her advantage. Turns out that Kuroo was more her type, and she thought that she could have won him over by asking him to team up with her to take over my business. Obviously, she didn’t know that Kuroo wanted nothing to do with the business industry. I told her that she was fired right on the spot, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“What?” (Y/N) asked. “What do you mean she wouldn’t let you fire her?”

“Exactly as it sounds. She threatened that if I fire her without giving her some sort of compensation, she would expose me as Kodzuken. I had just taken over as CEO, and even though I made a big name for myself, not everyone approved of me because of how young I was. I knew that if word got out that I was a Youtuber on the side, everyone would have said that I wasn’t focused on the business. I ended up paying Yui fifteen grand to keep her quiet about Kodzuken.”

Kenma’s eyes widened when he saw (Y/N) choke on the tea she was drinking. “(Y/N)!”

“I’m sorry, how much did you pay her Kenma?”

“Fifteen thousand.” (Y/N) stared at him. She couldn’t believe her ears when he told her that’s how much it took for Yui to stay silent.

“And she was quiet ever since?”

Kenma shook his head, “She started to bug me a few weeks back, but I told her that I didn’t care if Kodzuken’s secret identity got out. I already proved myself to be a good businessman and entrepreneur, if Kodzu got out, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say after Kenma shared his story. Her thoughts were jumbling together going over his past once again, before her phone gave another buzz.

BZZT!

She grimaced when she heard the buzz, and lifted her phone to see yet another text message sent to her. (Y/N) didn’t expect to start getting these texts again. She placed her phone, face down on the table before staring straight into her cup, deep in thought.

“I told my story, now what’s going on with you (Y/N)?” Kenma questioned, watching her.

“Who keeps texting you?” (Y/N) stayed quiet, not answering him. Kenma opened his mouth to say something before (Y/N)’s phone buzzed again once more. Unlocking her phone, she barely got to read the newest text, before Kenma grabbed her phone out of her hands and read what was on her screen.

His eyes widened, “(Y/N)— these texts—”

“These weren’t the only messages I got,” she muttered. “I just deleted the others when they started coming up.”

Kenma couldn’t believe what he was reading. Why was (Y/N) getting these types of texts? He looked back up at his secretary, whose eyes started to get glassy. She sniffed, before wiping a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “Guess it’s my turn huh?”

“You already know that I had a previous secretary position somewhere else. I told my friends I quit, but I didn’t exactly say why. You talked about how Yui was great at her job, well I guess I could say that I was the Yui of my company— minus the whole two faced thing— I actually worked hard to move my way up the employment ladder. I got along with my boss who was a sweet old man, just on the edge of retiring. He reminded me of my grandfather, so I was constantly in his office making sure he wasn’t over-working himself.”

Her eyes started to squint, brows furrowing as she recalled the next events that took place afterwards.

“Guess I started watching out for him too much, because rumors started to surface saying that I was sleeping with him so I could become the next CEO. When that was far from what I had wanted. Each time I walked into the room, all conversations quieted down, and hushed whispers followed. They were speaking as if I couldn’t hear them. They kept saying things like, ‘That’s the girl who’s sleeping with the boss’ ‘She thinks she can become CEO by giving herself up like that.’ It started to weigh me down.”

Kenma’s fist clenched at (Y/N)’s words. Those were her coworkers? Kenma guessed that none of them really got to know (Y/N) otherwise they wouldn’t have thought those things.

“I decided to quit once they started harassing me outside of work. I told my boss who wanted to do something about it, but I told him that saying anything would have made things worse. So, I packed up my things when I knew everyone was gone and left that place for good. I still check-up on my old boss from time to time though. I didn’t think that this harassment would start up again. It’s a shame that these people have no lives.”

“Stop that.” (Y/N) looked up at Kenma.

“Huh?”

“Stop doing that,” he glared at her. “You show how you're feeling for a quick second, before hiding them away again. Stop hiding them already.”

“Kenma— I’m fine—”

“No you’re not. You were about to break down in the car, you were shaking when you came into the house and you were tearing up again just now. Don’t say you’re fine when you’re not.”

“I don’t want to become a burden to anyone. They shouldn’t have to deal with my feelings and personal problems.” (Y/N) argued.

“This happened again back when we were at the beach house. When you didn’t tell anyone that you weren’t feeling well because you didn’t want to ruin the fun for everyone else.”

“I can’t help being so self-less.” (Y/N) huffed out. “Would you rather I just stop being self-less, and just not care about anyone else?”

“What— no!” Kenma let out a big sigh. “How can I ask you to stop being self-less when it’s one of the things that made me fall in lo—” Kenma stopped himself before saying anything else.

“Made you what Kenma?” the blonde kept his mouth shut, cursing himself in his head.

Everything started to become much more clear to her now. “So if what I heard was correct, the reason you got drunk…”

“When I saw that gossip account post a picture of Kuroo carrying you, and I got jealous.” Kenma muttered. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Question is, why did you get jealous, Kenma?” (Y/N) poked at him. “Why did you seeing me in Kuroo’s arms get you that jealous, hm?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Hm, you’ll say it again eventually.” (Y/N) chuckled. “By the way, I feel the same way”

The Youtuber looked at her, “What?”

“Anyways, now that your secret is out, what do you plan on doing?” (Y/N) smiled at him as she diverted the topic. But before Kenma had the chance to answer,

BAM!

(Y/N) and Kenma both flinched at the sound of the door being slammed open. The two looked up to see both Kuroo and Oikawa standing there. They were both wearing suits as they leaned against the doorframe. “Come on you two,” Oikawa sang. “We managed to get a press conference for Kenma so he could provide his statement and his story on everything that’s happening.”

“Oh yeah, sorry (Y/N) we overheard you telling your past—”

“I can’t believe my poor baby was accused of sleeping her way to the top! Do they have no shame?!” Oikawa interrupted.

“Alright, Mr. Dramatic calm down. (Y/N) you could probably set those ex-coworkers of yours straight considering your picture got taken off, with yours truly. Let’s go fix this mess that you two fell in.”

As Kuroo and Oikawa walked away from the door, Kenma and (Y/N) looked at each other.

“Well, what better way to end both of our problems than to face them head on?”

“Count me in.”

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