#reposting this for my own maniacal purposes

[mirkwoodmunson]

bad day

eddie munson x f!y/n

2.3k

you thought you were getting over the anxiety, bad dreams, the panic attacks. but you find even just a bad day can let it all flood back.

contains: established relationship, soft!eddie, angst, vol2 spoilers/rewrite, living together tw: ptsd, flashbacks, cursing, anger struggle, trauma, anxiety/panic attacks, mental health struggle, pet names a/n: takes place not too long after the end of vol2, eddie is very much alive thanks to you but with significant impact to your mental well-being after what you went through to get him out. disc: i do not give permission to share my content outside of tumblr; please reblog and do not repost; my content (even sfw) is not meant for minors; i am not responsible for the media you consume online.

You mutter, hot and spat, under your breath as you fumble with your purse and keys and a book you’d brought to work, a few papers you had to bring home with you ruffling in the breeze. Your stride is swift and hurried as you cross the parking lot to your junked up vehicle, but halfway to it the book slips from its cover and falls to the ground. Without something to hold the papers against they flutter and get pulled from your hand by a particularly mischievous gust of wind, carried away by it. The keyring clatters to the pavement as well, and you’re left stunned in place as your bag hangs off your wrist.

Something, vile, rises in your chest. Something very feral and very anxious, something you haven’t felt in a while now, as you suddenly feel like control is being taken away from you.

I just dropped some stuff… it’s fine… why am I getting so angry..??

A long, soft inhale as you close your eyes and count — that’s what Eds had said, right? — close your eyes and count till you feel it shrink.

You get to thirty and it only grows a little, and with an impatient growl you roll your eyes and stoop to pick up the book and keys. The papers, you decide, are a lost cause. You physically cannot bring yourself to walk all across the lot to collect them, instead walking right over a page on your continued way to the car. You open the door, throw everything into the passenger seat, and drop into the driver’s with a huff.

You start the car…

You, try, starting the car…

The car chugs and chugs, sputtering as you grip the keys with ferocity and turn the car on…

The car does not turn on.

You throw your head back and scream.

You just want to go home.

This morning hadn’t been so bad — you’d spilled some coffee, sure, maybe forgot to get the usual goodbye kiss from a sleeping Eddie before rushing out the door. You’d stubbed a toe and bumped into a door on your way in, of course you did, you were rushing and twenty minutes late.

Why am I getting so angry..??

You find yourself back inside your place of work, from which you had been desperately trying to flee the entire day. You find yourself asking for a ride home from, that coworker.

“What,” he begins, and you slowly close your eyes and sag a bit. “Don’t know how to start a car??” He smacks a surface and busts into laughter at his own poor joke, before giving you a look of ‘what’s your problem?’ when you just stand there with your eyes closed.

“Jeff,” you say very softly, eyes open again but lidded and tired and unemotional. “Can you give me a ride or not?”

“Awww, c’mon,” he chortles and leans in.

Oh. You want to hurt his face so badly.

“Let’s hear the magic woooord~!”

There’s a beat, and then, it happens! He's done it! You grin! You laugh and chuckle and nod and toss your head back in hearty laughter before bringing your forehead forward with mighty purpose, grinning maniacally as you connect it with his nose, with a crack with a pop with a sob and blood begins gushing from Jeff’s nose all down his shirt as he cries and cries and—

“Weeeeell??” He coos, still sporting that stupid fucking smile.

You’re lifted from your daydream and just stare at him a moment, weighing the options in your head, you stare at him and he starts to get a little confused with your silence, before you turn quick on your heel and throw up a little two-fingered ‘peace-out.’

“Nevermind,” you say flatly. “I’ll walk.”

And you walk. You could call someone, ask for a ride. But something in you seems to almost search for something new to be upset about, something you can let your frustration latch onto, for it to have a purpose.

It’s dark by the time you reach the trailer park, the streetlamps on and shedding their warm light over you as you breathe heavily and walk with fast steps, your things gathered in your arms from your car. You mutter and grumble and curse the whole way, pursing your lips as you speed up with purpose when you spot yours and Eddie’s trailer.

He must’ve been watching for you, because when you’re a few feet from the porch the door swings open and he rushes out, eyes wide and hands held up and open questioningly.

“There you are, wha— where’ve you been I’ve been calling your work and Nancy’s and—“

“Eds — please — don’t touch me right now,” are your first words to him, breathless, as you hold up hands as well, but they’re defensive and stop him in his tracks before he can come any closer. You avoid looking up, seeing his reaction to what you say, as you breeze past him and simply drop everything onto the counter in the kitchen inside. You clutch the edge of the surface and straighten your arms, leaning on them as you catch your breath from the long walk.

When you ask him not to touch you Eddie immediately goes quiet and lowers his hands a bit, watches you leave a foot of space between the two of you as you swerve around him and inside. He is anything but hurt, instead concern striking something in his heart as he turns and watches you for a second, closing the door slowly, quietly, behind him, as you try to settle and collect yourself. He can see you tremble, even though you hadn’t noticed it he could see the flyaway hairs practically vibrating even with the door closed and no airflow. The way your clothes seemed to buzz on you, following your arms down to the white-knuckle grip you had on the counter where your very muscles seemed to be unable to drop that strained tension.

“y/n?” He says very softly, tilting his head a little.

You let your head drop, hair falling around your face.

“Eddie. I just had a bad day. It’s fine,” your voice is flat and cool enough to make him shiver a little.

He’d seen you shut down before, it wasn’t anything new to him, but it had always been for good reason. And, the last reason had been… well. It had been more than reasonable at the time, but now it had him incredibly worried and confused.

It hadn’t been the first time you’d said that to him either, asking him not to touch you. He couldn’t drop that bit, couldn’t stop hearing it in his head. The way you’d said it the first time. Curled into yourself and backed against the wall, watching with weeping eyes, while he was grinning in his hospital bed trying to beckon you closer.

“y/n it’s okay, I’m okay — please just… Please come he—“

“Please, don’t touch me right now,” you’d managed to whimper out, brows knitting tighter and more tears falling as it visibly made him stutter a bit, hand hesitating in the air wanting to reach further for you but faltering at your request. He withdrew it back into his lap but kept watching you, grin since faded and replaced with that look he had now, in the trailer — that broken-hearted concern.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck as he keeps watching you in the kitchen, trying to physically remove those thoughts from his mind, trying not to crowd you but wanting to be near so he could make sure you were okay. He wanted to obey your request but he also wanted — so badly — to take those few steps to you and pull you tight into his arms.

“y/n,” he says again, still softly, but trying to get you to look at him, to look up, to let him see where it hurt so he could make it better, even though he knew there wasn’t much that would help right now.

“y/n, c’mon… please, talk to me,” he keeps his voice so gentle and level and it makes your shoulders slump a little.

When you don’t react he takes a step forward, “baby, please…” still no reaction, so he steps forward again, just outside the kitchen now. He could reach out and hold your hand, but he knows it won’t help unless you want him to.

“I’m- I’m here. You can talk to me. Just…” Eddie’s voice cracks a little, “just, please. Please don’t shut me out again…”

Your whole body is shivering, trembling as you keep your grounding death grip on the counter.

You feel like you’re back there again. Back in the upside down. You can't stop or block the whirlwind that carries your mind miles and miles away.

It’s so vivid it chokes you. You can feel it. You can feel the burning ferocity of your effort as you drag Eddie’s limp body back to the upside down version of Wayne’s trailer, back to the mini gate, Dustin wailing as he tries but can’t, tries so so hard to help but he’s sobbing desperately and it makes you so so deeply angry that he’s already mourning Eddie. Your throat is raw from screaming but you keep screaming anyway,

“DUSTIN PLEASE!!! PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!!!” You don’t cry, you can’t, but you scream and wail and shriek with the effort of it.

You feel powerless.

You have no control.

Your boyfriend is bleeding out and there’s nothing you can do about it but scream and pull.

Something feral and anxious in your chest.

Why am I getting so angry..??

Eddie has to physically pull you from yourself, pull you from that dark room in your head, ground and tether you to reality as he finally grabs your wrists with the tenderest of touches, pulls carefully, gently on your hands till they are removed from the counter.

“Hey hey hey hey,” he says quickly, anxiously. Why is he breathing so fast.

His big brown eyes are right in front of yours so they’re the only things you need to focus on, they’re wide — why are they so wide — and skipping between yours, searching in you to find the rest of your mind and bring it forth from where it dwelled in the depths.

“Okay, okay, slow deep-deep breaths. Deep in, 2 - 3 - 4, deep out 2 - 3 - 4 , just like that. In, 2 - 3 - 4, and out 2 - 3 - 4...”

As you attempt to follow his instructions you realize, it’s so hard to take a breath right now, you realize you’re shivering so hard your teeth chatter, you realize your throat is a little raw and you realize you have to keep blinking to see past the tears as you cry and cry and cry. You realize you’ve been screaming and Eddie is panicking trying to calm you down because he knows. He knows what just played in your head, he knows you’re not okay, and he knows that you had a very bad day today. He knows you need help, whether you ask for it or not.

“C’mon, y/n, you gotta breathe, baby, just breathe. Look at me, sweetheart, yeah? Look at me,” he lets go of your wrists and maneuvers you, lifts you up as you weep to sit you on the countertop, bringing you more to his eye-level. You feel distant from your body and your mouth feels weird, like your teeth are vibrating.

Eddie holds your shoulders and physically mimics steady breathing, slowly lifting them up and then lowering to encourage your breathing further, trying to help you find that pattern, that routine.

In, 2 - 3 - 4, out 2 - 3 - 4 . In, 2 - 3 - 4, out 2 - 3 - 4.

Eddie nods quickly as you start to find it, start focusing on him more, sees you coming to.

“Good girl, there you go. There you go... It’s alright... You’re okay, y/n, you’re okay... It’s alright... I got you... I promise... I got you, it’s alright... I’m here. I promise; I’m here...” He whispers his praises and reassurance, breathing with you, thumbs stroking your arms gently to keep you grounded and present and looking at him. Your eyes are hooded and dim, endlessly a waterfall of tears, but they manage to stay focused on his — bright and shining and acting as your beacon out of that dark, dark room.

When your sounds have settled to gentle heaves, stuttering breaths as you continue to weep quietly, Eddie pets damp hair away from your cheeks, forehead, looking you over and pampering you, wiping droplets from your jaw and chin and using the bottom of his shirt to softly, carefully pat away the damp streaks on your flushed cheeks. He keeps talking to you all the while, and his voice — his voice is what you latch onto. You feel the rumble of it, the tone easing your frayed nerves and settling that white-hot feeling, that idea, that you had no control.

You had control, Eddie made sure you did, looking at you every time he moved to see if you’d protest.

You were home, you were safe, you had Eddie. You were in control of yourself. You just had a bad day. It would be okay.

When you feel like you’re finally pieced back together, albeit still fragile, you just sink. Your muscles give out and you sink into Eddie who readily gathers you up in his arms and just holds you for a little bit. You’re still sat on the counter, with Eddie stood between your knees, curled into his chest as he wraps arms around you and rests his nose in your hair. He holds you there and closes his eyes, still murmuring to you and reassuring you — he was here, he was whole, he had you, it would be okay. He wasn’t going anywhere. You were both alive and breathing.

“Eds,” you squeak out, barely audible.

“Mm?”

“…thank you.”

He kisses your hair, your temple, and then lifts you up into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck and hide your face there too, letting him carry you to bed.

[jungkxook]

—backseat serenade. (m)

⟶ pairing: taehyung x reader

⟶ genre: punk!taehyung / band au / brother’s best friend au + smut 

⟶ words: 10,790

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

⟶ warnings: multiple sex scenes, slight exhibitionism if u look hard enough, wall sex, car sex, unprotected sex, all the sex (seriously), fingering, pussy slapping (also if u look hard enough), lots of teasing, doggy style, riding, creampie

⟶ disclaimer: this story is another repost of an old one (although it’s basically been entirely rewritten lol)!  

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

“We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Taehyung says this with much difficulty, of course, especially when considering you’re currently pressed up against him, his fingers digging crescent-moons into your hips ━ but he knows you’re teasing him now.

You can’t help it, though; he just makes it so easy for you.

He can be so stubborn and impatient at times that poking fun at him brings you quite a bit of joy. Maybe not so much to him, as he often whines and complains that you like to torture him, but, really, how could you not? When you think about what he’s usually like in bed, away from prying eyes, it’s entirely different. So to see that dominance in him fade into nothing short of helpless is simply satisfying ━ even if you know you’ll pay for it at a later time. It doesn’t always happen either but when it does, you bask in it for as long as possible.

Which is why you seem to take the liberty of “torturing” him so sweetly now, just before the boys are about to play a gig at a bar late one night. Taehyung had found you the moment he and the boys had finished soundchecking for the evening, then had you pinned up against the brick wall of the dingy washroom, his hips digging harshly into yours, and his hand now gripping your thigh around his waist. It might have been you who instigated it, hooded eyes and fluttering lashes and shit-eating grins meeting him in secret from across the room as he stood on stage before you with his bass guitar in hand, but Taehyung was the one to put it into action just like he always does, pulling you in there even despite the fact that they were scheduled to play in twenty minutes.

But who could blame you? Taehyung is always so charming, and tonight he was looking extra irresistible. Maybe it was the silky blouse, the first few buttons left open so that the floral tattoo on his chest pokes through, leaving very little to the imagination, or maybe it was the way he had let his hair grow out a little longer than usual, soft dark curls pushed back by a single bandana.

“You’ll be late,” You warn him in between heated kisses as he pecks his way down to the underside of your jaw where he tongues a warm pattern there.

“Just a quickie,” Taehyung promises gruffly. His hips rut against yours again and you feel his straining erection against your inner thigh. Poor thing. “Been dying all day to feel you on my dick.”

You only hum in response, a small amused smirk plastered on your face. He’s sucking a hickey onto your neck when he speaks next.

“Had all these thoughts but I was all alone. It was terrible.”

“What kind of thoughts?” You pry, quirking a brow. Your fingers toy at the top of his belt buckle, pulling him towards you. “Let me guess. Were you thinking about what it feels like to have my mouth on you? All warm and wet.”

He doesn’t move a muscle when he feels your hand trail lower past his belt only to grab at his crotch through the rough material of his jeans. You press your palm against him and he hisses.

“Sucking you off nice and slow, just how you like it?” You probe, teeth tugging at his lower lip when he catches your mouth on his once more. Your voice is low and sultry and invokes something in him that has him tensing. “Or maybe the way it felt when you had me bent over your kitchen counter the other day. You know, you always make me feel so good, Tae━”

He growls against your mouth but the harsh sound dissolves into a strangled whine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, love.”

“And I always love when you pull at my hair too━” But you continue on as if he hadn’t even spoken, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins like crackling electricity. “And when you grip my thighs so tightly when your head’s between my legs━”

“Y/N,” he says your name in a strained warning, bordering on a desperate beg if you listen close enough. He gets distracted when you suck delicately on a spot on his jawline and has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“My mouth?” You ask, tantalizingly slowly. “Or me?”

“I’m a simple man, I just wanna cum,” he hums, earning a delighted snort from you. “I’ll take whatever you give me, Y/N, please.”

“Hmm…” You trail off. You press your palm a little harder against him, rubbing your hand across his length. “Think I want you inside me, Tae. Wanna be wrecked by you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Now, this seems to excite him to no end. He fumbles with his belt at once. A devious cackle meets his ears and he knows you’re purposely toying with him. The next few moments unfold in a blur as his eager hands join with your own nimble ones, having his belt undone in a matter of seconds and your skirt hitched up nearly to your waist. With one hand gripping his straining and leaking cock as he pulls himself free from his pants, the other hitches one of your thighs to his waist. He pushes into you at once, the familiar feeling of your wet walls coaxing him in further and further as he sinks against your chest entirely, a beautiful luscious moan falling from his lips and a hiss of glee from yours. And, then, all at once, it’s as if all the pressure that has been building up inside of him tumbles to the forefront to be released.

“Jesus, fuck,” he grunts. He buries his head against your chest, one hand feverishly grasping at your breasts from under your shirt, fortunate you chose to forgo a bra for the night.

“Ooh, Tae━” Your own arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you, but you don’t think he’ll bother going very far when his own weight slumps against you entirely, pressing you against the wall roughly. And even though he’s quick to fuck himself into you, his hips hardly stray far from yours too, causing you to bob violently up and down the wall behind you, the rough brick structure scratching at your flesh paling in comparison to the cool metallic rings on his fingers holding you up and the burn between your legs as his cock stretches you open.

“Nice to know that’s all I am to you━” Your head falls back against the wall as he continues. “Something you can use to get off. Not that I mind.”

“Nah, that’s not all you are to me,” Taehyung sharply inhales, and then shudders. In the heat of the moment, you miss the sentiment in his voice. He lifts his head to yours finally, smothering your lips with his. “But your pretty little cunt sure is nice.”

A maniacal cackle bubbles at your throat as you nip at his lower lip. Before you can respond, outside the washroom Jimin’s voice can be heard calling out aimlessly for Taehyung as the boy most likely wanders by, oblivious to what’s unfolding only a few feet away from him. “Has anyone seen Tae? Taehyung! Get your ass back here or we’re gonna be late━”

Taehyung groans out of frustration and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling angrily, “Fuckin’ hell.”

But despite the Jimin’s close proximity and despite Taehyung’s bitter resentment for it, his hips still continue to rut into yours. You do manage to pull apart from his mouth and giggle when he chases after your lips desperately. “Think that’s your cue, baby.”

“There’s no way you’d be that evil,” he protests like a whining child.

“But Jimin sounds pissed.”

Taehyung finds it hard to focus when your fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, absentmindedly (or so he thinks) running your hands under his shirt and over his chest. He cradles you close to him, following your every move. That, and the way your walls clench around him drives him wild. “Heaven forbid we let down Jimin.”

“Nnng━” You choke back a whimper. “He’ll be mad.”

“As if he wouldn’t already lose his shit if he found me here in such a compromising position with you being that you’re his sister.”

Compromising is certainly one word for it. So, maybe Taehyung had a point, but that never stopped him or you before. In fact, it only seemed to add to your lustful endeavours, as if you both enjoyed seeing how far you could push the boundaries before getting caught ━ or not.

It hadn’t always been like this. For a period of your life, you had somehow forced yourself to believe you had despised Taehyung as much as you claim, as much as you lie. You wondered just how Jimin could ever be friends with, or be as inseparable with, Taehyung as he was. Whereas Jimin is timid and shy, gentle and caring, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer’s day that sways the knee-high grass in meadows behind your house, Taehyung is energetic and effervescent, reckless and wild, akin to that of a sudden flash of lightning that breaks apart the calm sky, a clap of thunder that shakes even the very core of sleeping Gaia. Though, somehow, their two vastly different personalities come clashing together in a harmonious perfection and create something that is entirely too rambunctious for you to handle, even as a young child.

But now? Now you’re positive neither you nor Taehyung would stand a chance against Jimin’s wrath if he found out his best friend enjoyed weekly sex of all sorts with you, sometimes even when he’s asleep in the next room over in your shared apartment with him and Taehyung had somehow managed to sneak in during the night.

“You know he’s already suspicious,” You moan as his cock angles upward into you in such a way that makes your body tremble. You jut your hips forward, meeting his halfway. “Now━ Fuck, Tae━ you wanna… You wanna risk getting kicked from the band for not showing up to your set?”

“There’s still ten minutes,” he hisses hotly. “Ten minutes is more than enough time.”

“Then you’ll really be late.”

“It adds to the rockstar brand, doesn’t it?” he asks hastily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet and you’re teasing me?”

He’s met with a roll of your eyes, and then a drunken snicker as you retort, “Maybe being fashionably late will be more acceptable when you’re a big celebrity.”

“Did you find him?” Another voice suddenly sounds from outside, this time resembling Hoseok’s. Taehyung wonders how they haven’t heard either of you yet, the lewd wet noises of his cock burrowing into your cunt seeming to grow louder each time. Surely, you would have been caught by now had it not been for the thudding bass of the music playing at the bar.

“No,” Jimin grumbles, closer this time.

A dangerously loud whimper tumbles from your lips and Taehyung hurries to clamp his hand over your mouth. You’re fortunate when he does, clinging to his hand as he pumps himself into you. At the very least, no matter how cocky Taehyung got with you or how many times he teased the thought of getting caught, he would never actually risk facing Jimin’s mighty wrath. Still, he finds a way to have fun with it.

“Uh oh.” Taehyung meets your darkened stare, lids heavy, as his other hand leaves your thigh to stick between your legs, fingers rubbing circles against your clit. You know he does it on purpose, judging by the broadening smirk on his face when the added stimulation makes your hips jerk instinctively beneath him. He’s surprised when you hardly let out a noise, safe for a sudden gasp for air. “Not even one tiny moan? Come on, baby.”

“Fuck it. Wherever he is, he better know we’re on in ten!” Jimin’s voice carries back to the two of you. Then, a little more faintly as he wanders off, you can hear him grumble, “I swear to God, this asshole━”

“Wait, wait━” You rasp suddenly, twisting and turning beneath Taehyung and the boy stops at once. You try not to let your heart swoon at the way his hands are all soft and gentle as they touch you now, sliding his palm off your mouth if only for it to fall to your hips where he rubs at comfortingly.

He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches, shoved so deep within your walls. “What’s wrong?”

You slither from his grasp, unraveling your leg from his waist and delicately pushing him away, trying not to focus on the way your pussy throbs at the sudden missing warmth of his length. Taehyung is suddenly even more concerned, the poor boy gawking at you helplessly, his swollen cock completely forgotten as he fixes himself back into his jeans, his attention solely focused on you and your wellbeing now.

“What happened? Did I hurt you━”

“No,” You promise. “No, I just━” You look sheepish, and he wonders why, up until he sees you fidgeting with your skirt in an attempt to fix it and the mischievous twinkle flashing in your eyes. “I just figured maybe we shouldn’t risk it tonight. I mean, you heard Jiminie.” You pat Taehyung’s chest once, smoothing out the material of his now crumpled shirt. “So, I’ll see you out there.”

Taehyung blinks once. “What the fuck.”

It doesn’t seem to hit him at first; not until he spots your wicked grin as you lean past him to look at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your clothes and hair. You wipe at a smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth, and Taehyung gaps.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he whines. Needy and desperate hands try to grab at you on your way to the door, but he ultimately lets you weave your way out of his reach. “What are you, the antichrist? Don’t be such a tease. I’ve got a problem that you helped start. It’s only fair if you help finish it.”

Admittedly, it is cruel. He looks both shameless and shameful, an exasperated and flustered expression to match the helpless state he’s in. Shirt askew on his shoulders, hair a wild mess, and his painfully obvious boner struggling against his jeans. You almost feel bad, until you realize you shouldn’t be. Because this is all it’s ever been between the two of you ━ sex, and more sex, no feelings attached, but lately something seems off…  Either way, Taehyung will get over it, and he’ll still come crawling back for more which is why you have no qualms when you leave. Just, maybe, not in the way you would like.

The last thing he sees of you before you flee the washroom for him to fend for himself is a seductive smirk and a wink being thrown over your shoulder as you remark innocently, prettily, “You have hands.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him alone in the dingy washroom. He doesn’t come out right away, though it leaves the restless boys that make his band awaiting him to speculate some more.

“He’s gonna totally screw us over if he doesn’t show up in the next two minutes,” Jimin is saying hotly to the boys behind the stage when you rejoin them. The bar is already filling up with partygoers but mostly fans of the band, eagerly anticipating the set.

“Relax, Jimin,” Namjoon says carelessly. “He’s probably getting blown in the washroom or something. Can’t rush a man through these things.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as the others snicker. When the others have distracted themselves by discussing other business, you approach your brother casually, saying as inconspicuous as possible yet reassuringly, “Everything will be fine. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he throws this all away for a girl,” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s a miracle he ━ or any of the guys, for that matter ━ hasn’t tried anything on you yet.”

You try to laugh, though the sound is more forced and strained than you would like. At least Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. “But he’s your friend. Don’t you trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jimin replies. “He’s a good guy, he’s just too caught up in all this band life. We’ve both seen it with the guys, especially with Taehyung. They take advantage of this stuff in the early stages.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” You promise. “I’m not interested in your friends and never will be ━ especially not Taehyung.”

Fortunately, the dreaded conversation doesn’t last much longer. Taehyung does end up making it to his own set on time, and when he finds you out in the crowd, you’re smirking deviously up at him for a secret that never has to be told aloud to the world and certainly not to Jimin.

You don’t quite remember when you and Taehyung started hooking up behind your brother’s back or what exactly caused it.

If you think back long and hard enough, you’re positive it was the result of some sort of drunken one night stand that elapsed into sober days and conscious decision making, which then turned into weeks, then months, which leaves you to where you are now. Almost a year of sucking your brother’s best friend’s dick and you’ve somehow, miraculously, never been caught. But aside from occasionally sleeping with one another, there was nothing more to be exposed to Jimin in terms of romance. Because, as far as he was aware, you and Taehyung were still embroiled in your childhood rivalry with one another that was less violent now than when you were younger and more civil, aside from the offhanded jabs and retorts shot at one another. And, as far as Taehyung and you were aware, the charade and the hook-ups all resulted in a peculiar sort of friendship between the two of you that was certainly as far as either of you would take things. Supposedly.

But between sexual teasing and taunts, you sometimes wonder if the lines have begun to blur, and if you’ve gotten too comfortable with Taehyung asking to sleep in your bed. Which is why, maybe, you overcompensate by “torturing” him on the days that he really needs you, like the night before in the grimy washroom of the bar. He hadn’t joined the real world or the band until the very last second they were meant to go on stage, looking all the more discomposed and flushed in the face when he rushed out, though at least he had somehow managed to tame his raging boner.

Now you were certain the universe was toying with you, bittersweet payback coming to nip you in the ass.

You hadn’t been so bothered the night before, leaving with the boys when their set was done and returning to your home with Jimin, not a word being uttered between you and Taehyung, even up until the very next day where you find yourself now. Crammed in a local studio run by some friend Yoongi had known from college, you were quite used to watching the band brainstorm new lyrics and record songs in real time, all from the sofa shoved up against one wall of the small space. You had been there every step of the way ━ their first rehearsal as a formed band, the day they discovered the group’s name in almost a dreamlike epiphany, the release of their very first full-length album produced and recorded all by them and promoted all by them, their very first gig with a decent following and the jittery anxiety they had all been troubled by, and every gig following it in which their nerves subsided and their effervescent charm and credence began to finally show through. But they had never been as disconcerted as they had now ━ which, really, you don’t blame them.

“Bro, this is stressing me out.” This aggravated groan sounds from Jungkook, the band’s lead guitarist.

He’s currently splayed out on the ground of the sofa you’re seated on, head thrown back against the cushions. Every other boy in the studio bare a similar wearied look ━ even Jimin, as their usual spritely lead singer.

You suppose that’s just the inevitable stress bound to occur when a scout from the infamous Columbia Records had somehow found the band either in person at one of their gigs or online and taken an interest in them and were interested in signing them. After weeks of back and forth discussion, Jin had been fortunate enough to land a meeting with the label in New York City, looking promising enough to excite even the stoic Yoongi. And after a month of planning, their meeting was set to take place finally only a week from that day. The issue seemed to arise when the label claimed they wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss at the last possible moment, sending the boys into a chaotic frenzy as they had only just released their first album a few months back. You had come to help the boys, though they were lucky enough to have found a handful of pre-written songs from their repertoire that still, unfortunately, needed fine tuning, vocals, and melodies. After working meticulously all morning, they were only just now deciding to split for a much needed lunch break.

“Same here,” Jimin says glumly, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Can’t wait to get out of here. I feel like I’m going insane.”

As the boys begin to shift and move, Jin gets to his feet and clasps his hands onto Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring nudge. “Just think about it: international success and Grammys await.”

“If we don’t fall apart before then,” Namjoon stifles a yawn as he stretches out his arms. He tosses a glance at you and Taehyung. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” You say, though you hardly move from your seat. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Taehyung nods. He’s sat across from you on the couch, journal propped on one knee as he scrawls away in it, a jarble of chord progressions and lyrics. “Just gonna finish cleaning up in here.”

It seems convincing enough to Namjoon and the rest of the boys, even Jimin who is already out the door, not in the least bit suspicious of you or Taehyung. Honestly, you’re sure not even Taehyung is suspicious of your unmoving presence beside him until the boys leave and suddenly the room falls silent.

“You’re stressed,” You point out in a gentle musing. Which is true. You don’t usually see Taehyung riddled with anxieties, typically keeping to himself and maintaining some sort of effortless and mysterious coolness around the others.

The boy quirks a brow as he lifts his gaze to look up at you, tossing the journal onto the ground. Whether or not he seems to catch the underlying suggestive and sultry tone in your voice, you’re not quite sure but could you really blame yourself? It was difficult having to watch Taehyung all morning in his element, gazing at him whenever he was in the recording booth, headphones dangling from his neck and bass guitar in his lap as his expert fingers thrummed away at the strings. He always looks most attractive to you when he’s so utterly consumed by his work and his art, whether it be on stage in front of hundreds of people or in a more intimate setting at recordings or practices.

“What happened to you not wanting to disappoint Jimin by getting caught or whatever it was?” he asks, waving his hand dismissively. “Staying back with me is definitely gonna catch his attention.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. You catch his hand as he brings it back down, raising it to your lips to kiss at the tips of his fingers slowly, one-by-one, never once breaking eye contact with him. “I was just thinking you could use some help. And an apology for yesterday.”

Despite the way Taehyung’s dark gaze scrutinizes you in a taunting manner, he still watches as you take his hand and place it between your thighs, over your core. At least today you chose to wear leggings, the smooth material allowing for very little obstacles standing in his way as you press his fingers against you. A wolfish smirk tugs at his lips. “You think your pussy’s gonna help me?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” You say, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t think it will; I know. If I remember correctly, you were begging to use me as a stress-reliever before your set yesterday.”

Taehyung clucks his tongue. “Sounds a lot to me like you just want my fingers in you. Not so nice now being the needy one, huh?”

“I want you to do a lot of things to me, Tae.”

“Careful, baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Taehyung says. Still, he entertains the idea. Pressing his thumb harder against you, he rubs leisurely at the sensitive part of your clit over your clothes and the sudden feeling makes you pur with glee. “Besides, why should I be so nice and help you after what you did to me?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still on about that? You’re a grown man, you can pleasure yourself.”

“How mean.” He feigns a look of mock hurt. “It doesn’t feel as nice when it isn’t you.”

“Taehyung,” You scold his name in a warning, but it mostly comes out as a contented sigh. You know you’ve already won him over, though the impatient tug you give on his arm as you clutch at his wrist of the hand still between your legs is a wordless reminder. Your fingers flutter up to his face, pulling him down for a kiss which he gladly obliges to. “Think they’ll walk in?”

“Nah.” His voice is a throaty murmur. “We’ve got some time. The boys’ seem worried enough as is; think they’re already halfway to that pho place around the corner they wanted to try, and they’re probably not gonna wanna come back here for at least another hour. Plus, I think we’ve given the producers a raging headache with all our requests so they definitely won’t want to be back in here for a while.”

You snicker at the thought, humming into his mouth as you pull him down with you onto the sofa, bending your knee so as to let him slide into place between your legs more comfortably. He pulls his hand away from you only long enough to lick at his digits before slipping his hand past the waistband of your leggings this time. Nudging aside your underwear, he swipes his fingers at your clit, marveling at your stickiness.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What do we say when they ask where we went?”  

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, tell them we were busy fucking for all I care.”

You swat at his chest playfully but lose your spirit when he presses his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to rut forward in a silent plea. Taehyung’s right, you think. Your excuse for the boys can be worried about later. Now, Taehyung slides a finger into you, then another, stretching you open experimentally, causing you to croon.

Face warm and head spinning, a sudden thought pops into your head that seems much more intimate than his fingers in you. “So━” You bite your lip to stop a moan. The question that forms on your tongue is timid despite the lewd things that threaten to run through your mind at his every touch, “S-So, what happens when you’re a big and famous rockstar, touring the world now?”

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung tongues a pattern down to the underside of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. He curls his fingers upward, sinking further into you until he’s reached his knuckles, enjoying the way your hips twitch beneath him. “Fuck you in every city we go to, in every fancy, over-the-top hotel we stay in. New York, L.A., Paris, London, Rome…”

“Romantic,” You snort, although maybe it kind of is if you think about it long enough. He slides a third finger into you then, fucking his digits in and out of you at a gradual pace that has your core aching. You’re all warm and wet around him that it goes straight to his dick, the thought of him tearing you apart as he plunges his cock into you making him grow antsy. It does the same to you. “Nnngh, Taehyung━ We’ll see about that when you meet pretty girls thousands of miles away who can offer you so much more than me.”

“Hmm… Dunno about that,” he hums. “There’s only gonna be you.”

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing, the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him. Pretty words promising you that you meant more to him than sex meant little to you in comparison when he never acted upon it ━ but could you blame him? Even you were apprehensive of ruining what you already had with him, his friendship with Jimin if you told him how you were feeling lately, and the integrity of the band.

Your legs tremble as your orgasm approaches. Taehyung busies himself by nipping and sucking at your neck and all you can do is puff and pant, the lewd wet noises of his fingers penetrating you filling your ears. “Taehyung━ God, I wanna feel your dick so badly.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Gonna let me fuck you finally? You’re so wet right now, could slip right in. Fuck, look at what you do to yourself by being so mean to me.”

He twists his finger up into you in such a way that has you grinding against his knuckles. “Please, Tae━”

“Got you stretched so wide too,” Taehyung hums pensively. “Your pussy always takes me so well too, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, Taehyung!”

“Look at you,” he hisses, quickening his pace. Your back arches until your chest is pressed flush against his, walls quivering around his fingers. You reach out desperately for his face, smoothing your lips over his but you fail to really make any sort of connection. Instead, your jaw unhinges in a breathless moan against his mouth as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna come around my fingers so badly, don’t you? So close too.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m━” Your hands ball into fists around the collar of his shirt. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you get closer and closer, your aching pussy so close to feeling its much needed relief when━ “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

He pulls his hand from your core before you can cum, leaving you a sweating and panting mess. The sudden loss of contact leaves you dumbfounded, gawking at the boy who’s suddenly grinning in a similar ungodly manner to your selfish response to him the day before. Payback has never tasted so sweet before to him, and so bitter to you.

“You did that on purpose,” You whine, jutting your hips forward desperately to meet his hand again. Instead, he gives your leaking and sensitive pussy one slap, the pleasant jolt shooting up your spine making you moan. “You’re so mean. I thought you were over it.”

“Well, now I am.” He pulls his hand out from between your legs and licks at his fingers. “Have you had your fun?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you gather yourself. He finds your sulking a little hilarious, and maybe also feels a little bad. “For now.”

“That’s a good girl.” He leans down to kiss your mouth hungrily, enjoying when you suck eagerly at his lower lip. “Because I’ve had my fun.”

You open your mouth to say something more but are stopped shortly when, somewhere outside the recording room, you can hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and Jimin’s curious voice, “Tae?”

You and Taehyung have stumbled off of one another within seconds, listening to the way Taehyung curses under his breath as he flings himself off the couch and a few feet away as you sit upright on the sofa. You have to only pray and hope that you both don’t look too obvious, though you think it’s too late for that. Either way, you cross one thigh over the other, biting down harshly on your tongue as Jimin stumbles into the room. As his gaze sweeps fleetingly across the room, he hardly takes note of both you and Taehyung.

“There you two are,” he says. “Was wondering where you went off to. And━” His stare flutters over to Taehyung for a moment and you hold your breath, fearing he may know a little too much, when━ “There’s my wallet! I knew I forgot it here.”

He crosses the room swiftly and plucks his abandoned wallet from the desk, holding it up to show the two of you. You smile nervously and Taehyung takes it upon himself to answer, clearing his throat in the process. “We were just gonna catch up with you, actually. Y/N was just helping me finish up here.”

You’re fortunate that Jimin’s probable sudden panic of trying to find his wallet and the relief of realizing he hadn’t lost it to the ether is what distracts him. He seems hardly intrigued by your lack of presence or yours and Taehyung’s odd companionship without the other boys. Whatever the case, you both manage to make it out of the recording studio unscathed and Taehyung does a well enough job at deflecting from any further suspicions by talking as normally as he usually would with Jimin on your walk over to the restaurant the rest of the boys are at.

Well, as unscathed as you can be, the tragedy of your lost orgasm still haunting you even as you sit across from Taehyung at the table.

“Now you’ll really be late.”

You say this as a heedful warning, though you’re fortunate when you find that you’re both distracted this time.

You know you have Taehyung under your spell that morning when he catches you purposely wandering his apartment in nothing but a pair of your panties. It’s not as if it’s uncommon to see you naked in his kitchen, making breakfast. That morning, when you walk into the bedroom holding a cup of tea, Taehyung almost chokes at the sight of your bare chest. It’s early the day of the band’s flight to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records, and though Taehyung has roughly an hour before he has to leave the apartment, you’re worried he might just miss the flight altogether when he pulls you onto his bed again after a night of fucking.

“Don’t care. Come here.” His large hands are on you in an instant, roaming your body as he kisses the underside of your jaw and pins you beneath him. You let him get carried away, let him leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your lips down to your collarbones and in between your breasts.

“What are you gonna tell the boys when they’re on a flight to New York and you’re still in your apartment?” You rasp, fingers threading in his hair.

“Was busy spending the last twenty-four hours making hot, passionate love to you.”

The wry grin on his face makes it come across as a joke and makes your heart skip a beat. Admittedly, that was partly the truth. He had invited you over the day before and you had spent the better part of it in his bed in every position imaginable. Have to make up for the three days we won’t see each other, he had said after your first round, head between your legs and mouth on your cunt.

You snicker now but the sound falls short when a moan replaces it. “Don’t think you can call it passionate love making when you gave up halfway and made me ride you like you always do.”

He gasps and bites down teasingly on your skin but not with enough pressure to hurt. “Was that a jab at my manhood?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I like it best when you’re in charge.”

You roll your eyes but pull him up to your face so that you can kiss him again. It’s an odd shift in atmosphere when you find him kissing you in a chaste manner, despite having marked you red all over and legs still shaking from how many times he’s made you come in the last twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t all sex for once. Falling asleep in his arms left you still dreaming even when you were long awake.

“Gonna miss you,” he whispers once he parts from you. He rubs soft circles against your hips, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“It’s only for three days,” You say.

“I know,” he sighs. “I just━ God, I’ve gotten so used to you being here. I’m just sick of sleeping alone all the time. Shit, I don’t think I’m making any sense anymore. All I know is you’re driving me crazy.”

“Taehyung…”

“Am I wrong to feel that way?” He lifts his head now to look at you, ardent sincerity glazing over his eyes as he gazes at you.

You’re too caught up in the moment, the lustful afterglow of sex and whatever else is starting to emerge however blurry it may be now, to not notice right away the sound of knocking on the front door. Instead, you reach out to push his hair out of his eyes. You think you know what he means; you just want to hear him say it aloud. Your question is a gentle probe. “What are you trying to say?”

“I━”

But Taehyung’s voice is cut short by the sound of Jin’s shouting from the front door. “Taehyung, you in here?”

Wide eyes meet with yours in the sudden alarming panic of Jin’s arrival. Taehyung grumbles mostly to himself, “God dammit, what’s he doing here?”

You can hear the band’s manager talking aloud, quite possibly to another one of the boys that he’s dragged with him, and you and Taehyung scramble to react. Taehyung only has enough time to clamber out of his bed and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor as you pull on one of his sweaters and grab the bedsheet to cling to your chest if only so it can hide the rest of your bare legs.

“Are you alive?” Jin’s asking, closer this time.

“We had to come check on you━” You don’t register the second voice until it’s too late.

Because there, standing at the threshold of Taehyung’s door to his room, is not just Jin but your brother. Jimin’s familiar pop of bright blue hair and nonchalant smile are much too hard to forget. But, upon stumbling across Taehyung’s room, they each come to a stuttering halt. It doesn’t take long for the realization to dawn on them ━ and how could they not piece together the puzzles painting such a painfully obvious picture? The dishevelled bed, the clothes that litter his floor, your clothes that litter his floor, Taehyung’s shirtless and sloppy attire, your own half-hearted attempt at dressing yourself and the marks that riddle your body that you were banking on fading completely by the time you were reunited with Jimin after their return from their meeting.

“Uh…” Taehyung trails off awkwardly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh shit,” Jin curses under his breath. Despite having no idea whatsoever about you or Taehyung (though maybe having a better inkling than the rest of the boys), he turns hastily towards Jimin. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

But Jimin hardly budges. Instead, he looks enlivened, jaw setting harshly in place as his brows furrow into a scowl. “Jin knows I have a spare key to your place after that one time you locked yourself out and he wanted to make sure we all met up before getting to the airport. You weren’t answering our calls, thought you were dead. Guess now I know it’s because you were too busy fucking my sister.”

“Jimin,” You hiss sharply.

Taehyung shakes his head wildly. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jimin retorts. “‘Cause it sure seems like it is.”

Taehyung grimaces. “Okay, yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not some meaningless fuck. I care about her.”

But that only seems to be the wrong answer. Would there ever be a right one? Taming Jimin’s stubborn anger and protectiveness over you was hard enough on any other day. Now that he knows you’ve slept with Taehyung, Taehyung felt as if he were a lost cause.

“How long has this been happening?” Jimin asks, tight-lipped.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, neither can Taehyung, and that seems to be enough to answer his worries. Maybe if you had acted faster, said it was only a one night stand, he wouldn’t have been able to read your mind so easily. Yet your silence was enough to make you guilty.

“Shit,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, he’s looking only at you. “Do you love him?”

“I━” You open your mouth, as if to explain yourself. This time, the answer came much easier. You know what you want to say, but voicing the truth out loud in front of your brother and Taehyung, who might not feel the same way, makes you clamp your mouth shut. Whatever your answer anyway should be for Taehyung only. Instead, you frown up at your brother. “I don’t get why you’re so upset anyway. Who cares if we’re in love? Who cares what we are? It’s not like you can control me. I can make these sorts of decisions myself, Jimin. This is ridiculous.”

“No. I get that,” Jimin says firmly. “But you’re my sister, and your wellbeing comes first to me. So, Tae━” Now, your brother turns to look at Taehyung. You’ve never seen him so furious before, disappointed even, and certainly not when it comes to Taehyung. “If you care about her so much, when were you gonna let her know?”

This seems to catch your attention, sending a curious gaze between Jimin and Taehyung. “Let me know what?”

“That he’s been screwing some other chick he met at the bar a while ago,” Jimin says. “Walked in on them once by accident and, after the fact, he said some similar bullshit about how it wasn’t meaningless or whatever.”

You blink.

The blow to your chest, and subsequently your heart, makes you teeter on your frail legs. Because if what Jimin was saying was true, then were all the sweet sentiments Taehyung whispered to you even yours to begin with? Did he care about you as much as you cared about him? But, the worst part of it all, is how utterly foolish you feel. Because when Taehyung doesn’t immediately answer, your question about whether or not Jimin was telling the truth was confirmed; and you had let yourself almost willingly fall for Taehyung despite all the warning signs. Despite the fact that you had both initiated your relationship on the basis that nothing would ever blossom from it.

“Is that true?” You ask Taehyung.

The boy hesitates. He meets your stare solemnly, flinching when he notes just how hurt you seem. “Partly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. But before he can respond, you scoff under your breath as you begin to gather your belongings. “Oh my god. I’m so stupid━”

Taehyung starts. “Wait, Y/N━”

“Just leave her alone━” Jimin interrupts.

“Hey. Hey!” Jin snaps abruptly, the firm tone in his voice catching the boys’ attention. “We gotta go. Now. Taehyung, get yourself decent; Jimin, in the living room. We leave for the airport in five minutes.”

You decide you no longer want to wait for an answer. Your own embarrassment is far too much to handle for the moment being, and you favour the idea of fleeing from Taehyung’s sorrowful gaze, Jimin’s heated one, and Jin’s scrutinizing scowl.

You’re long gone before Taehyung can even think to stop you.

The three days in which the boys find themselves in New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life.

Taehyung never bothers to call or text you ━ and the looming swell of concern of awaiting to hear his voice or your brother’s or any answer of how the meeting has gone fades in comparison. Because every sweet nothing he ever said to you suddenly means nothing, and you don’t know where that leaves you.

Just when you think you can take the torture no longer, the band returns. Jimin comes bounding into your shared apartment the moment his flight lands and the taxi has brought him home, greeting you with the wonderful news that the band’s been signed, and a celebration is in store consisting of their closest friends and family members. While you initially bask in Jimin’s excitement, mirroring your own, it quickly fades as you fear you’ve lost Taehyung for good.

“You’ll come to the party, won’t you?” Jimin asks hopefully at some point. “The boys will want you there.”

You shift warily in your seat on the sofa across from your brother who stands in the midst of the room after having animatedly relaying the story of the past three days to you. You shrug now, and when Jimin shoots you a quizzical look, you decide to approach the topic cautiously, dancing over your words slowly. “I dunno, Jimin. If he’s gonna be there… I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

Jimin comes to an immediate halt. His face falls and he sinks onto the seat beside you. “Y/N… Look, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. While we were away, Taehyung and I talked and he’s gutted about what happened. But that’s all I can say. I think you should talk to each other. No, I want you to talk to each other. I know now that you’re meant for one another.”

“Are you only telling me this because you’re being your best friend’s wingman, or because you’re being my brother?” You ask, a weak lighthearted attempt at a joke.

“Both,” Jimin says warmly. “Because I care about you both, and I don’t want to have to live with the regret of being the reason two people perfect for each other aren’t together.”

And when your brother says it with such earnestness, you have no choice but to believe him.

So, despite feeling like a fool for potentially crossing paths with Taehyung again, you muster the nerve and motivation to go, and arrive at the party with Jimin later that night. The impromptu last minute party itself is held at Namjoon’s home, filled to the brim with mostly familiar faces and a few unrecognizable ones that must be acquaintances of the boys you’ve never met before. You make your rounds and congratulate the boys one-by-one, being enveloped into a tight hug with each one, safe for Taehyung whom you don’t see at first.

You’re fortunate when mutual friends of yours and Jimin’s arrive, spending the majority of the night with them as your brother wanders off to get wasted. At some point, as the night drawls on, you catch sight of Taehyung and the presence of him is enough to dampen your mood entirely. You decide you’re no longer in the mood for a party, and make haste for the door, stumbling out onto the lawn. You only make it so far, coming to stop at the foot of the curb to breathe in the cool night air around you, before you notice Taehyung hurrying out after you, calling your name.

Almost as soon as he’s able to catch his breath and you lock gazes with the boy, he asks aloud, “Where are you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to follow you, nor the terrible nearly tangible awkwardness that hangs heavy in the air. Still, the concern in his voice and the corners of his eyes softening at the sight of you makes you want nothing more than to forget all the heartache. “Home.”

“Let me drive you?” he asks delicately.

You hesitate before responding. You know the simple offer of a drive is more than that. It’s an invitation to talk to him, sort things out. And you, of course, can’t possibly deny him. As soon as you’ve followed him to his car and he starts driving, everything goes silent. It’s almost unbearable as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and gaze out the window, hoping the long car ride will pass by rather quickly. You thwart his attempts at starting any conversation by turning the radio up and letting the music ━ a mix from Taehyung’s phone filled with pop-punk and indie classics ━ fill the emptiness but it doesn’t work with distracting you. He takes a detour from the path to your apartment, driving instead to a nearby lookout point of a hiking trail, now abandoned and desolate this late at night.

It’s quiet even long after he shifts the car into park, leaving only the sound of the stereo to fill the void. Then, at long last━

“You didn’t call,” You say.

Taehyung swallows thickly. “I know.”

“That’s all I wanted. An explanation.”

“I know,” Taehyung shifts in his seat to look at you. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“I know I have no right to feel like you’re mine when the reason we started seeing each other was casual, but everything you’ve been saying to me lately━” You rasp, “that I’m the only one for you and that you were gonna miss me because you were tired of being alone ━ did all of it mean nothing?”

The boy’s stare hardens. “No. I was never lying when I was with you. Everything I said, I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I was scared I had lost you,” Taehyung grovels all at once, silencing you. “Because things were starting to finally change between us ━ where it wasn’t just sex all the fucking time, but something genuine ━ and I didn’t want to face the reality that it could all be gone, just like that.”

“Well, what did Jimin mean, about that other girl? Was he telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you fuck her while you were still saying there was only me in your life and pretending you meant it?”

“I was never pretending,” Taehyung protests exasperatedly. “We had a fling, but that was months ago, when you and I first started whatever the hell this is. But Jimin was wrong. I never told him she was the one, or whatever. I said I didn’t want it to be meaningless anymore. That I want something more. I thought I had found it with that girl; but it was really with you.”

“Taehyung…” You whisper his name now, a delicate utterance.

“You can’t tell me I’m the only one feeling this way about us,” Taehyung beckons desperately. “I know you’ve been feeling it too.”

You purse your lips; then, you let out a small exhalation of air. “Tae… I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we were little kids.”

Now, Taehyung’s stare softens. He reaches out to grab at your face, gingerly pulling you into him, thumb caressing your cheek.

“I want you,” he promises. “God, I want you so bad. Do you really think I’d risk getting kicked from the band for anyone else but you? Or let anyone else tease me so bad but you?”

You can’t help but snicker. You shake your head at him as he pulls you into a kiss. He grins against your mouth and, this time when he kisses you, it’s hot and needy, a whole three day’s worth of pent up emotions and desires pouring into your every touch. Your hands fumble to undo your seatbelt and then you’re climbing over onto his lap and he’s welcoming you with open arms, the skirt of your dress hitching up higher on your thighs. Your knee, or maybe it was your foot or elbow, accidentally hits the horn of the steering wheel and startles the two of you, earning a squeak from you, before you both erupt into laughter. Taehyung reaches down to push the seat back a few inches to give you more space in the cramped driver’s seat and then he pauses to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. He kisses you again and again, as your hands come up to grasp at the sides of his neck.

“Had enough of the bullshit, have you?” he asks humorously. “Gonna take matters into your own hands?”

“I’m tired of all this teasing and chasing,” You pout. You’ve already begun grinding your hips against his, enjoying the way his face pinches in pure delight. He burrows his face into your chest, breasts soft against his head. A soft moan bubbles at your lips as you plant your own hands onto his chest. “I think so are you. We’ve both got a taste of it, haven’t we? We need to make up for lost time.”

“Fair enough,” he rasps. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“You, all of you,” You murmur. “Want your dick in me.”

“Gonna let me finish this time?” he tuts.

Your amused giggle meets his ears and he wonders how you can be both cute and sexy at the same time. “Mmm, I wanna be filled with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunts. “Okay, okay. Here━”

Somehow, he’s able to gesture to the backseat and you and him clamber your way there until you’re finally both situated once more with you straddling his lap. There’s a mutual understanding that there’s no point, nor time, for foreplay but it’s not as if either of you mind. Taehyung’s surely had enough and so have you because while teasing him may be fun for a while, it certainly can feel like torture trying to stay away from him in the meantime. You help him fumble with the belt of his jeans so that he can unbuckle them and watch as he grasps at himself, pulling his cock free. Immediately, you’re lifting your hips to pull the skirt of your dress up higher and his hands help aid you clumsily, palms gliding up the smooth expanse of your thighs.

Then, fumbling to push you on your knees before him, with one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you towards him and gazes down between the two of you as he hooks a thumb over the material of your panties to push it to the side and teases the tip of himself over your slick folds. Your hands flail outward, palms pressing against the windowpane as he somehow situates himself behind you in the cramped space on his knees. He grunts from behind you at the feeling and then slowly and carefully guides you down onto him. It takes a moment to adjust but as you sink fully down until he’s balls deep, his cock coaxed easily by your leaking wetness, the both of you come to a halt, sputtering for air.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck━ Stay put for a sec.”

“Why?” You ask, jutting your hips backwards teasingly. “Gonna cum already?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he mutters. He thrusts up into you without warning as payback, causing you to gasp out loud and flail forward. “No, you brat. I just want to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

He’s right. It does feel nice to finally feel some sort of friction after three days of nothing. To him, you just feel so nice and warm and snug and, to you, he fills you up so perfectly. So you stay put for a little bit, adjusting to the feeling as you kiss each other slow and steadily. His dick twitches inside you, warm and wet and so fucking hard. He’s just so big, your head is spinning. It’s almost as if you feel him in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the feeling. He yanks impatiently at the top of your dress, pulling it down so that the material pools at your waist now, reveling in the way your bare breasts spring free. At once, his hands are reaching around your front to palm at your breasts, grasping at your hips and navel.

“Wanna wreck you so bad,” Taehyung growls roughly against the shell of your ear as he presses his chest against your back. “Gonna fill you up so good, make your pussy all mine. How does that sound?”

“Want it so bad,” You whine, one arm hooking behind you so that your fingers can scratch at his hair. “F-fuck, Taehyung━”

When he tugs lightly at your hips, you take that as his gesture for you to move and start grinding your hips against his.

“Been waiting so long,” he hisses. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t know why you always gotta tease me.”

“Taehyung,” You choke out. “Oh, f-fuck━”

“That’s it, baby girl. Doing so well,” Taehyung grunts as your walls quiver around him. He starts grinding into you, rough snaps of his hips sending you jolting forward each time. “Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Y-Yes━ God, want it so bad,” You cry out. “Give it to me harder, please, Taehyung━”

He gladly obliges, quickening his pace until he’s slamming his hips into yours in thrusts that tremble you to the core. Tears begin to prick at your eyes at the glorious sensation, your cunt throbbing with each thrust. You’re so wet, he almost slips from your walls each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck━ Want you to ride me,” he rasps at some point. “Show me how your pussy belongs to me. Can you do that for me?”

You nod blindly. You try not to whine at the sudden loss of contact when he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock glistening with both of your leaking cum mingling together, the sticky strands pulling apart midair as he fumbles. Soon, he has you straddling his lap, sinking onto his dick once more. You grip his shoulders this time, bouncing on him as he buries his face in your chest.

A sudden thought has him groaning aloud. “Your brother’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“I thought he said you talked things over,” You gasp. “That everything’s okay.”

“I don’t mean that,” Taehyung’s head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. “He’s gonna murder me if he ever catches us like this.”

“Think he knows it happens by now,” You giggle. You moan when you drop your hips on him completely, swiveling around his dick.

“Still don’t think that means he wants to see us making love on the couch in your apartment. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Taehyung points out. Then, adding hastily, “Fuck it. Can we not talk about your brother? It’s killing the mood.”

Another delightful chuckle bubbles from your lips though it’s quick to dissolve into a splintered cry as his dick angles upwards into you.

Your back arches until your chest is pressed against his. It’s almost embarrassing how fast the two of you become complete shambles, a sticky mess forming between your legs. It comes to that point where you don’t care about being careful and where you decide to adopt such a reckless pace, fucking yourself on him, your breasts bouncing wildly before him. Taehyung moans and eagerly latches his mouth on one of your breasts, sucking hard.

“Taehyung,” You whine. “I’m not gonna last.”

He hums against you, pulling you closer to his mouth and chest and wrapping you in his heat, as if to urge you on. Your mewls and whimpers ring in Taehyung’s ears as beautiful sounding as the music that plays in the background. You begin to give out, your tiredness mingling with the intensity of pleasure, and you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, huffing for air. He quickly replaces your efforts, grabbing your hips tightly and plummeting his upwards into yours so hard that you feel each thrust shake you to the core. You know you’ll have bruises in the morning but you don’t mind. You’re leaning entirely against Taehyung now, your arms wrapping around his neck, as cries of his name and choked whimpers continue to tear from your throat and mouth.

“F-Fuck!” You cry. “Taehyung, faster━ oh my god, please━”

Your pleas drown out when one long moan escapes you. You can feel the muscles in your core tighten and loosen in a constant battle that has your head swimming in a good way, your heart pounding in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, focusing on bringing you to your high, and, before you are able to even comprehend what’s happening, you’re toppling over the edge. You’re still on top of Taehyung, whimpering profusely and crying his name in a beautiful mantra as your high shakes you from head to toe.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Taehyung hisses. “Cum for me. Cream all over my dick. You love it, don’t you? Love having me fill you up like this?”

“Yes, oh my god, Tae, yes━ faster, please━”

Taehyung obliges, sweat forming on his forehead. He feels you squeeze around him so tight that he fumbles for a second, sputtering for air. Then, he feels your cum pulsate out of you, leaking down his length. You’re instantly floating up high with the stars, relishing in your high and the way Taehyung rides it out as he also fights for his own sweet release. As your hips come to a stutter, he grips at your waist and pummels his dick up into your aching pussy.

His tongue continues to lav lazily at your jawline and, by the time he reaches his own high, you are beginning to cringe from the sensitivity. Yet, you hold on, pushing away the slight sting as you help coax him to his high, squeezing your muscles around him. He cums moments later, releasing into you warm and wet, crying your name.

“Fuck, Y/N━ Gonna fill you up, baby, just how you like it━”

He rams his hips up into yours for one final effort, shuddering in elation as his cock twitches every last drop of cum from it. Then, both breathless and panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you slump against his chest, resting your forehead against his. The car instantly goes silent and the foreground music that was the radio comes to once more. You listen to the soft lyrics as the two of you bask in the afterglow of sex and he kisses you all over.

You don’t know how much time passes as the two of you lay there, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your hips as your own fingers trace the tattoos that ink his skin.

“You know━” Taehyung speaks up eventually, his voice a low mumble. “Gonna be extra hard not to be late getting to gigs now.”

“Uh oh.” You roll your eyes. “Think we’ve got all the time in the world now for sex, Tae.”

Taehyung grins. “I was thinking more about the fact that I’m not gonna want to get out of bed in the morning, whenever you fall asleep beside me.”

Your heart swells at his confession and you peck his cheek quickly before burying your face in the crook of his neck. It’s his own serenade of sorts, his small promise in the backseat of his car, that makes it all okay in the end.

“And,” Taehyung admits cheekily this time, “knowing we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore, even to ourselves━ I'm definitely not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you now.”

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Plot Twist (Ep. 3)

Summary: Life was full of plot twists. You start off with a dream of making a difference in the world, becoming an Avenger. You turn away within arm's reach of your lifelong dream, spurred by the disappointing truth you discovered and deciding to choose a different path. Fate brings you back unexpectedly when the Avengers take a special interest in a powered unsub the BAU is chasing.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, Criminal Minds

Pairings: Steve Rogers x BAU!Reader (primary), Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader (previous, secondary)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: 18+ EVENTUAL SMUT. MATURE THEMES. slow burn, enemies to lovers, canon level violence, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, serial killers, strong language, Steve is still an ass and will still be for a while, some angst and hard truths

A/N: I couldn't resist not posting it already. I personally love this chapter.

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Episode 3:

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It's dangerous to think of yourself as a hero and someone else as a villain. It gets in the way of empathy. - Megan Ganz

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You abandoned your stare down with Steve in favor of jumping back into the case with cold professionalism. Whatever his issues were with your team, that would have to wait. Saving people’s lives took precedence and you already lost another one to this maniac. You divided up the tasks as soon as Garcia said that another body had been found.

Morgan would go with you to the crime scene along with Steve and Sam. Reid, Garcia, Bucky, and Nat would stay to go over the information of the new victim. You needed to find the motivation and victim criteria that tied them all together in order to catch this unsub. Thankfully Steve and Sam took a separate car and you were able to use the time apart to calm the urge to shoot the Captain in the face. He’s been unnecessarily rude since you all arrived and you suspected that there had to be something more to it, but that will have to be a problem for later.

Getting out of the car, you promptly showed your credentials to the police officers manning the barricade. He nodded at you and Morgan, but you saw the scowl that settled on his face at the sight of the Avengers with you. You shared a knowing look with Morgan as you made your way to the body that was farther inside the alley.

“Not used to people looking at you guys with anything less than gratitude and adoration?” you smirked at Sam, who was looking like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Sam was a decent guy as far as you could tell and you chose to not give him too hard of a time, but he needed to hear the truth. “The Avengers have saved the world more times than should even be necessary, but it’s always us downstairs who have to deal with the aftermath.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, halting his steps. You stopped too and faced him, a small sad smile on your lips.

“What do you think happens after you destroy a city protecting our sovereignty, Sam?”

Sam looked at you with confusion, obviously he’s never thought about it and why would he? Why would any of them? They would be exhausted, injured, dealing with their own version of paperwork, or already moving on to the next big fight. And the fights were always big. Those trivial things were below them and that was exactly why the rest of the justice system hated them.

“Crime rates triple afterwards, Sam. Riots, arson, robberies, murder. You name it. The moment right after you send packing the villain of the week is when that place is the most vulnerable,” you said, purposely making your tone more gentle. You weren’t saying this to hurt him. “Every single cop, firefighter, paramedic, and volunteer is out there dealing with the damage and helping anyone who got caught in the crossfire. Perfect opportunity to rape and shoot up your neighbor.”

“I had no idea,” he mumbled, looking horrified and conflicted at the same time.

“How would you? None of you ever stick around long enough to see it.” You continued walking again and felt the need to somehow comfort him a little. “Don’t worry, Sam. Nobody actually blames you for it. We’re grateful for what you do really. It just gets hard when we’re trying to pick up the pieces after.”

He nodded at you, but you could see on his face that it clearly bothered him. You felt a tinge of guilt for bursting his bubble, but that was reality. Reality wasn’t pretty and the harshness of it was written all over Steve’s face when he physically recoiled after one glimpse of the dead body. Sam quickly followed suit, shaking his head vigorously as if it would erase the image in his mind. Morgan scoffed and you shrugged as you approached with your demeanor unflinching, crouching down to have a closer look.

“Looks like it’s the same MO. Multiple stab wounds definitely, but we’ll need to wait for the ME report to get more detail,” you said as you pulled out the disposable gloves that you always had in your jacket pocket.

You turned the victim's arm slightly to see better the words carved there. Steve watched a good distance away, his stomach churning but still feeling in awe at how calm you were faced with this gruesome scene. It was a wonder to him how you and Morgan were unbothered as you assessed the body and shared observations. How could you not even flinch? He didn’t know that you had seen far worse.

“Ante-mortem,” Morgan said, referring to the words on the victim’s arm.

“Victim was still alive when he did it,” you nodded. “Same as the others.”

“It’s left almost out in the open this time. They had to practically tape off the entire block,” Morgan said as he looked around the area. “The chef in the bakery upfront saw the body when he was throwing out the garbage.”

“He’s definitely gotten more brazen. He’s dumping them in broad daylight now and his cooling period has gotten shorter. Probably because we disrupted his last one. I’m willing to bet that he’s already hunting someone else right now,” you agreed, but your frown was deepening as you thought. “But why New York? Why now?”

“I don’t know, but it’s lucky we were already here,” he muttered before turning toward the cops to get more information.

Was it? Was it really luck?

The gears in your mind were turning and trying to grasp at a vague idea. Something was off. Something in your gut was warning you. You chewed on your lower lip as you went to where the two soldiers were, a habit that Steve remembered you always did when you were deep in thought and you were feeling unsure.

“Is it him?” Sam asked.

“No doubt it’s him. The signature looks to be an exact match, but we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

You whipped your phone out and sent a quick text to Garcia. They would need to get a headstart. This victim had thrown the profile out the window. They needed to find that connection now more than ever.

“The victim is male.”

“How does that make a difference?” Steve asked, clearly still uncomfortable with how near they were to an actual dead body.

“It makes all the difference, Cap. Once an unsub crosses gender lines that means it’s really the motivation to his killings that’s the key to finding him. There’s a very specific reason why he’s killing. His victims and locations are already all over the place,” you explained.

“It makes things more complicated.”

You were surprised that there was no trace of aggression in his voice this time. He wasn’t rudely questioning your findings. It sounded almost like he was agreeing with you. I guess a dead body was what he needed to sober him up to not be a douche.

“Morgan’s going to go to the precinct to talk more to the local PD and put a rush on the ME report. I need to go back to the Compound and hash this out with my team.”

“I’d like to stay and help Morgan if that’s okay with you,” Sam volunteered to your surprise. There was a determined set to his chin, the kind that said he wanted to do more this time. He wanted to do better.

You smiled and nodded at him, no longer feeling guilty about your earlier words to him. This meant though that you were stuck with Steve. The car ride back to the Compound was awkward to say the least, only momentarily broken when you made a stop to buy food for everyone.

“How do you do it?” Your eyebrow rose as you continued to drive, taken aback that he would choose to break the ice with this question. “How do you deal with this as your job?”

The Avengers have faced plenty of horrors in their line of work, but the ones that you faced were different. It wasn’t that one was more horrific than the other, it was just different. It was unsettling because this was everyday life that was disrupted. It was disturbing because a big part of your job revolved around victims and not just the bad guy. This was someone’s parent, sibling, child. This was a life taken too soon by someone who saw no value in it, perhaps even took joy in taking it. This feels more personal and a little too close to home.

“I threw up and cried a little when I saw my first body. All things considered, you and Sam did much better than I did,” you said with a dark chuckle, choosing humor to lighten the somber mood that was suffocating the car.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve seen. I don’t even want to,” he gulped, his throat suddenly feeling tight. “How do you go to work everyday knowing that’s what you’re going to see?”

You chewed on your lip again, trying to decide between honesty and a sarcastic quip. You sighed, your grip on the steering wheel relaxing a bit. “There are good days too, Cap. There are days that we save a victim just before it’s too late. There are days that we get to return a child to his parents. There are days we get to give justice to people who were too scared to trust authorities at first. There are days that we get to tell victims that they’re safe now.”

He watched you as you spoke, taking in the subtle changes in your expression. There was a warmth in your voice as you told him about the good parts of your job. There was happiness and contentment in your eyes, haunted as they were by all that you’ve seen. There was pride there too and he thought that you rightly should be.

But still he couldn't have you on this case.

"I still think you shouldn't take this case."

You almost choked at how hard you snorted. You really thought for a moment that you were maybe getting into more civil terms with the Avenger. You shook your head as the laughter bubbled in your chest, starting from a soft breathy giggle until it was a full loud laugh that had you slapping at the steering wheel. Steve was looking at you like you had completely lost your mind.

"What's so funny, agent?"

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, but the smile was still wide and bright on your face as you turned to him. Your eyes were dancing with a cheeky mirth that he both found attractive and threatening at the same time.

"Nothing. I just finally confirmed something I've been wondering about for a long time."

"What's that?"

"That your shield comes with a stick up your ass."

The dark murderous look on his face only made you burst into laughter again. The clenching of his jaw, the tight furrow of his brow, and the deep scowl on his face was only proving your point. The wild grin on yours further infuriated him.

"Loosen up, Cap. You're going to swallow the stick whole with the way you're clenching."

[fandomfriend]

This is my first lyric comic! Just in case, tw for blood, murder, and really unhealthy relationships, I guess?

I’m not sure how well these will load, as this is my first time posting pictures on tumblr, so here’s hoping tumblr doesn’t crunch the quality! If it does, maybe I could try to repost? Idk.

This is a lyric comic using the song “This is love” by Air Traffic Controller. The characters come from the Vargas AU made by @zarla-s, and it is absolutely fantastic! If you want to know more about the AU or the story it is based on, zarla explains it pretty well, so check out their stuff! 

I tend to ramble, so I’m going to put the comic and the rest of my spiel under a read more, for the sake of not making a huge post that’s annoying to scroll past. XD

For the sake of not reposting the chorus multiple times, I put it and the bridge together at the end, but the rest is in order. If anyone is curious about my design choices, feel free to ask. If anyone wants to redraw this better, also feel free! I know it is super messy and amateur-ish, but I was inspired to make this after I saw Zarla’s post mentioning the idea!

This took quite a while to make, and I actually intended to post this yesterday, but I think the day after Christmas is probably close enough. (,^~^)

Small note, I’m sure someone will probably notice similarities between some of my art and ones zarla posted. It’s probably most noticeable with the angel, tbh. But yeah, that was kinda on purpose? I don’t draw much, even though I enjoy it, so I’m not great at things like perspective and proportions. So, I used zarlas art as a reference for poses, trying to get close-ish to the original art without outright tracing. Then once I got more comfortable drawing the characters, I branched out more, like with the dancing scene. (^w^)

Any text in light grey/white is Edgar singing, dark grey is Scri, red is Nny, black is Nny and Scriabin, and for one scene the orange to red gradient is the waste-lock parasite speaking. I hope I did alright and kept it all mostly in character!

(Also, may I suggest “Mr. Fear” by siames as being sung to Edgar by Scriabin? It just feels like it fits.) 

(I own nothing but my own drawings, the Vargas AU and fic are Zarlas, and the original story is from “Johnny the Homicidal Maniac” by  Jhonen Vasquez.)

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

***IMPORTANT Note*** Got an ask on tumblr last week asking why I (and other writers) ask for comments if we love writing.  My response can be found here on my tumblrs page.

But it’s my friends repost that I wanted to highlight:

“Case and point, if you want continuous and quality continent from your favorite writer’s, then you the readers need to give continuous and positive quality feedback and/or polite constructive criticism.

And if you don’t feel comfortable expressing your appreciation in a comment, then go and send in an anonymous message to tell said author how much you love their writing, but don’t abuse that feature to complain or throw shade at someone’s hard work.”

I have one regular commenter on this fic and a few occasionally commenters.  Given the amount of hits I get every update, the response is barely more than 1%.  If you think that’s disappointing and hurts, you’re right.  I’m not a machine and would GREATLY APPRECIATE some regular feedback.  Thank you.

Chapter 86

“Light cannot survive without Darkness.  Without Darkness how would we know what Light was?”

Yami groaned.  Even in this cursed, tormented, communicative dream world that was forced upon him he hurt.  “You’re really starting to bug me.”  Yami growled at the unseen voice.

“You are the End of the End.  The Lord of Destruction.  The--”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”  Yami yelled.  His temper was bad enough without being reminded and called the name that dead bastard had called him.

The disembodied voice’s tone changed.  “You should not to be here. This is not for you.”

Though Yami agreed, the change in timber and unaccustomed words set him on edge.  “What do you--”

“What is this place?”  A different voice asked.

Yami spun around.

What the hell was Alowishus Spade doing here?

Yami’s right hand went to his left hip.  Instead of gripping the hilt of his katana, Yami’s hand closed around nothing.  His katana wasn’t there.  Nor did he have his grimoire.

Yami muttered a curse and demanded to know.  “Is this you Crazy Killer Voice?  Or is the Lord of Lunatics really here?”

“Death should not be here.”  The voice said, sounding offended and confused.

Alowishus looked about the black void that was somehow both substance and space.  Eyes fixing on Yami, Alowishus said in awe.  “This is you. Or a representation of the force within you.”

Yami readied his stance for anything.  “Why were you so interested in what happened here if you could just bust in?”

Still trying to figure out how he got here, Alowishus said.  “I hardly broke in, my boy.”

Yami sneered.  “I’m not your boy.”

Realization dawning, Alowishus said.  “The portion of your mana I took into myself.”

“The what!  When?”  Yami’s head swirled.  The last thing he remembered was him, Teris, Nozel, Fuegoleon, and Greywright being held by some mad magical scientist from the Spade Kingdom.

“Calm down and let me think.”  Alowishus snapped.

“You are not meant to be here.  This is not meant for you.”  The disembodied voice said.

“I agree.”  Yami said, staring at Alowishus.  “How do we get rid of him?”

“Now wait one moment.”  Alowishus said.

“You are the Darkness.  None can exist in you unless you allow it.”  The voice said.

Yami wasn’t sure he understood, but he wanted Spade gone.  As much as he hated his time here, the voice was right, it was his space.  Even if Alowishus could do nothing to him in this realm, which Yami wasn’t so sure of, he didn’t want Spade around.  A cold burning rage ignited and overfill him.

Alowishus stood rooted to the ground, memorized.  Yami’s eyes flicked black, a great dense cloud of darkness came off him.

Alowishus watched as the void that was the Darkness within Yami became one with the young man.  “You are truly magnificent, my child.”  The force within him speaking of the force within Yami.  Alowishus pushed the rising force of Death down and said.  “It is right that you will be the one to finally deliver what I have sought for all these years.”

Though disappointed, Alowishus didn’t struggle as he was swallowed by the darkness.  It would’ve been futile to fight against it.  This place was made specifically for Yami.  The Darkness that they were surrounded by either a part of the actual force that resided in Yami or some sort of representation of it.

Alowishus gave Yami a parting smile.  “Till we meet again, Yami Sukehiro.”

Alowishus woke-up with a sense of disorientation.  He rubbed his head trying to remember the forgotten dream.  Something important had happened in his sleep; he could sense it.  But try as he might, he couldn’t remember what.

He sat up and went to his private office, stopping to stand at the shelves behind his desk.  Seeing his father's silent skull he frowned remembering another time, long ago, when he had been regularly haunted by somewhat forgotten dreams.  Back then he had been so confused, weak and frightened…

He was Fin Spade.  Son of Princess Mira and Erin Spade.  No! He was Garo Belin, son of a middling merchant family.  No.  He was… He was…  He shook his head, stumbling through a fielded landscape known as Dais.  He couldn’t even say where in the Clover Kingdom he was, his obsession with finding out who he was consuming all thought. All he knew were the stories that came with this place.

That long ago human mages had fought back Chaos and brought Order.  That Elves were said to watch the place, making sure Chaos wasn’t unleashed.  He didn’t know anything about Chaos; but there were certainly no Elves around here.  At least none that he had seen.

His death magic allowed him to sense the dead; and he followed that sense to…

Garo frowned.  The ground looked like any other patch of earth surrounding it.

He laughed maniacally.  He didn’t know why he had expected different. Why he had expect the ground to show some sign of the coveted answers that laid beneath.

Garo stretched out his hand, his magic pulling the long dead body of Fin’s father from the earth.  He sensed an endless labyrinth of tunnels somewhat out of phase beneath him but ignored it.  What he needed were answers, not more questions.  And if he did this spell right, his father—Fin’s father would hopefully be able to give them to him.

Garo ripped the skull from the corpses body.  The sun was beginning to set, the dark night of a new moon ready to descend.  He had learned a few years back that his magic was more powerful on the night of the new moon.  And him finding Fin’s father’s body a few hours before such a night felt like fate was on his side.

The spell took everything he had and more.  Garo died forcing Fin’s father’s soul into the skull.

It would take Death’s third incarnation to finally get answers.

Alowishus shook away the memory of his second life.  Garo had been pathetic. Fin, broken from story’s of his mother's death and father's abandonment, wasting most of his life in despair.

It had been his third life where he had finally taken the things Fin and Garo had learned and begun to understand what and who he was.  It had been during his third life that he found the skull of Erin Spade; that thanks to Garo housed Erin’s soul.  It had been his third life where he had found his purpose.

Still, as successful as his third life had been, the early years of it had been wasted as well. Firstly, it had taken him ten years to fully remember his previous two lives.  And even with the knowledge the skull had given, he still didn’t know everything. Nor had knowledge given him direction.

What was he suppose to do?  Live out his days alone until he died and was reborn?  Would the cycle ever end?

Not one to sit and wait for answers, he had set out to make his own.  In doing so he had gained followers and begun to build what was now known as the Agents of Chaos.  It was the iteration of his third life who was known as Master of Master's.

Alowishus stared at Fin’s father's skull.  His father’s skull. Cause no matter what life he lived and who had sired him, he was still Erin Spade’s son.  For it was Erin Spade who had wrought this endless cycle of life and death upon him.

His heavy hand landed on the bleached bones head.  “Will it ever end, Father?”

With the three days that surrounded the new moon gone a week ago, the skull remained silent; the soul within it fettered and unable to speak in his mind.

Alowishus’ grip tightened wishing he could cause Erin Spade physical pain.  “I am Death.  The true end. I will end it.”

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day; so as a 'tip' for reading this free work please leave a comment if you enjoyed reading it.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

***IMPORTANT Note***

Got an ask on tumblr last week asking why I (and other writers) ask for comments if we love writing.  My response can be found here on my tumblrs page.

But it’s my friends repost that I wanted to highlight:

“Case and point, if you want continuous and quality continent from your favorite writer’s, then you the readers need to give continuous and positive quality feedback and/or polite constructive criticism.

And if you don’t feel comfortable expressing your appreciation in a comment, then go and send in an anonymous message to tell said author how much you love their writing, but don’t abuse that feature to complain or throw shade at someone’s hard work.”

I have one regular commenter on this fic and a few occasionally commenters.  Given the amount of hits I get every update, the response is barely more than 1%.  If you think that’s disappointing and hurts, you’re right.  I’m not a machine and would GREATLY APPRECIATE some regular feedback.  Thank you.

Next chapter snippet:

Yami smiled down at her.  One day he’d tell her what the word meant. Maybe.  He almost made her a different promise; but it would sound too sappy so he said instead.  “We’re going to be late.  Think Julius will have a problem with just the two of us going somewhere if it’s to meet someone?”

Teris was about to answer that she didn’t care what her brother had a problem with when Julius’ voice sounded.

“No. But I do have a problem with you having secret meetings with my Vice Captain.”  Julius said.

[ivory-insanity]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / slightly canon-divergent / fandomless 

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO. Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. Are they underrated?  Y E S / NO.  Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO. Were they relevant for the main character?  Y E S / NO / THEY’RE (literally) CONNECTED TO THE PROTAG. Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO. ( everyone knows ichigo has an inner hollow, but no one really knows him ) How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — I try to follow canon almost to the point, particularly for characterization purposes. unfortunately, trying to take canon development away from shirosaki / hollow ichigo is detrimental to him. without his connection to being the inner hollow of ichigo, most of his personality is taken along with it, leaving him with almost nothing in terms of character ( i won’t go into detail here ). 

i fully stand by my statement that without all the canon events, he is not shirosaki & would become a different person/muse entirely.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  — honestly ??? he’s literally the only instance of a highly intelligent & humanoid hollow that is NOT an arrancar. most of them are "forced” evolutions & they took in shinigami powers with its power, which put them down an evolution line different from the hollow one. they have most likely gained traits that shiro DOES NOT HAVE. he is not an evolution. his soul is entirely hollow, a derivative of white & nothing else. he is a base hollow that was made and became a zanpakuto spirit through unforeseen methods. he’s new. he’s unknown. he is entirely different from an arrancar & almost can’t be compared to one. 

 every single part of his being is a contradiction. he’s a hollow & and a zanpakuto. he’s destructive & protective of ichigo’s soul, even if they are for selfish reasons. there is a not a shadow of a doubt that he’s the only person of his kind, so any character in the entire series ( aside from ichigo ) will be faced with something new. will be faced with an unknown. his entiRE EXISTENCE IS INTERESTING and terrifying at the same time. 

not to mention, have you seen how he fights ??? 

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  — for one, he’s untrustworthy, he’s suspicious, he’s a maniac that will attack at first attack. i would say it is pretty common to avoid him. & he would avoid everyone too cause that’s how he is. not to mention the fact he is trapped inside ichigo & has little to no screentime. 

tbh i don’t blame people who skip from entirely & just make him off as some sort of plot armor. without digging into it, it’s pretty hard to catch a substantive personality. in the long run, he didn’t do much for canon. 

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  LOOOL see. he was my favorite character and that’s really it. he was just a cool character at the time, but he’s been really fun since he feels so different from writing other characters. 

What keeps your inspiration going?  —   kari. i don’t even need to say more.  writing with other people has been a blast & i truly love everyone here, but without her i probably wouldn’t still be on tumblr right now. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO. ( all of shirosaki’s portrayals across the fandom varies immensely & i don’t think one is more inherently wrong or right, but i think my version is done very well in terms of keeping within what appears in canon. ) Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO.  Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES very sometimes / NO.  Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO. ( see: my discord pms with kari ) Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  — i gladly take criticisms !! i have never read the manga of bleach & i actually don’t remember much of the series in general, so i am confident there are things i miss that are either directly or indirectly related to shiro. & i am also sure there are better ways to approach & ‘justify’ some of his more odd actions in the series, so please go ahead and critique me all you like !! however, i will note that if i can find evidence to argue against a criticism, i will most likely not take it. 

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  — absolutely <3 questions are very important because they make you think about things that you may not have thought about before. exploring things about shiro is one of my favorite things to do because of just how he is. 

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  — yes, i would want to know why. when it comes to arguments or disagreements, i am very adamant about how they should go. arguments must include insights on both sides in a mature manner, so you can learn from both perspectives. who knows, you might see something you like & decide to combine it into something entirely new. 

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  — just fine. with shirosaki especially, i don’t think one person has the same idea about him as another LOL in fact, i’m pretty confident many views between me & friends go against each other. there are so many ways to interpret him due to a lack of canon material, it’s just bound to happen.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  — i’d think you’re a little crazy tbh. that or you missed everything that made him interesting. i may get not seeing much in him & ignoring him but omg i don’t really get how you could hate him ??? tybw solidified that idea even more, but eh. if you hate him, you hate him. don’t bring that hate over to me :P

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  yes. i am a grammar disaster. literally the worst. fuck grammar, man. 

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  uh. depends on who you speak to ??? i’m pretty intimidating at the first few glances, i’ve been told L O L. but i am actually very very very easy going & am okay with a lot of things. also i crave social interaction like all the time so. 

That’s about it, congrats for filling out! tagged by: @deivorous​ ( i enjoyed ur response btw ) Tagging: the problems of me being inactive & a small blog in general LOOOL idk who has done this so whoever has not, please feel free to take it :> these are fun to read

[malicejudged-a]

really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. REPOST ,   DON’T  REBLOG  !  GOOD  LUCK  !

TAGGED. I found this somewhere and felt like doing it so. Uh. TAGGING. Yoink it from me.

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Judge Nemo (formerly Edgar Hellewege)

NICKNAME: N/A

AGE: 425 (physically 27)

BIRTHDAY: July 7th

ETHNIC GROUP: German

NATIONALITY: Rekidonan

LANGUAGE(S): Mainly German, English, and Japanese (knows other languages though he may need a refresher)

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

CLASS: Low-class as Edgar, High-class as Nemo

HOMETOWN / AREA: Rekidona

CURRENT HOME: The closest thing he has to a home nowadays is his office / base of operations

PROFESSION: Ruler of the Human World / Judge of Humanity

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Blond

EYES: Sky blue

NOSE: Straight

FACE: Has a square jaw

LIPS: Somewhat thin

COMPLEXION: Cream tone

BLEMISHES: N/A

SCARS: Has numerous. He has them on his arms and legs but the most noticeable and vicious-looking are those on his chest.

TATTOOS: N/A

HEIGHT: 185 cm / ~6′1″ ft

WEIGHT: ~94 kg / 208 lbs

BUILD: Muscular

FEATURES: Has a beard

ALLERGIES: N/A

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Short, somewhat spiky at the back, two strands are loose

USUAL FACE LOOK: He usually has a slight smile on his face that makes him look either genial or smug

USUAL CLOTHING: He wears a red suit with a blue long-sleeve button-up shirt underneath, a black tie with a yellow design, and a black cape with a thin red line and fluff on it

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR(S): Artina hating him, going back to his past self

ASPIRATION(S): Destroying all of humanity, leaving the demons and the angels to slowly wither away and die, and then fading away

POSITIVE TRAITS: Charismatic, intelligent, good humored, loyal (... though only to some), driven

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-hating, vengeful, obsessive, cruel, distrustful, manipulative

ZODIAC: Cancer

TEMPERAMENT: Choleric / Melancholic

SOUL TYPE(S): Leader

ANIMALS: Fox

VICE HABIT(S): Manipulation, blackmail

FAITH: Though he poses as an Atheist, he’s actually a Christian

GHOSTS?: He is one, so yes

AFTERLIFE?: Again, he’s a ghost and knows about the Netherworld, so yes

REINCARNATION?: He understands how Prinnies work, so yes

ALIENS?: Considering that he’s interacted with them, yes

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Doesn’t care enough about human politics to align himself with a particular side. Will gleefully use both sides, however.

ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE: Though he’ll indulge when trying to manipulate someone, Nemo himself is somewhat... Spartan. And military. His own living spaces have only what they need for his purposes.

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION: He’s the ruler of the Human World, albeit one the majority of humans don’t know about. 

EDUCATION LEVEL: Had essentially a high-school level of education

FAMILY.

FATHER: ??? Hellewege

MOTHER: ??? Hellewege

SIBLINGS: N/A

EXTENDED FAMILY: N/A

NAME MEANING(S): Nemo -- Latin for ‘no one’.  /  Edgar -- fortunate, powerful ; Hellewege

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: Aside from being a Latin word, it’s also the name of a certain captain from Jules Vernes’s novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. / One of the more prominent Edgars in history is Edgar Allan Poe, a macabre writer.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: The Art of War by Sun Tzu

MOVIE: Nemo knows that humans have taken to making movies, but he doesn’t care enough to watch and find favorites

5 SONGS: Same with songs. He may listen to music here and there but not enough for favorites.

DEITY: Nemesis

HOLIDAY: Hasn’t celebrated a holiday on his own in a long, long time

MONTH: He doesn’t care

SEASON: Spring

PLACE: Aside from his office / base of operations, he does get somber around medical spaces

WEATHER: Sunny, rainy

SOUND: Nemo likes it quiet, actually. Either quiet or white noise.

SCENT(S): ... He’s a ghost, he hasn’t really smelled anything in a long while

TASTE(S): He... hasn’t truly eaten anything in 400 years

FEEL(S): Just give him something soft and he’s surprisingly happy

ANIMAL(S): Dogs

NUMBER: 4

COLORS: Red, blue, strangely fond of (and gets almost sad around) pink

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Tactics and strategy, various acts of subterfuge

BAD AT: The arts, being in touch with his emotions

TURN ONS: Being genuinely loved

TURN OFFS: Sadism

HOBBIES: He likes strategizing in his spare time and that’s about it. Aside from being a bastard.

TROPES: Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds ; Omnicidal Maniac ; Manipulative Bastard ; Large Ham ; War Is Hell

AESTHETIC TAGS: Crying while laughing, suits and ties, rusty chains, a man alone in a ruined battlefield, manic grins, 

GPOY QUOTES: “I hate and I love. Why should I do this, you may ask? I do not know, but I feel it happening, and I am troubled.”

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC(S): Himself

ALT FC(S): N/A

OLDER FC(S): N/A

YOUNGER  FC(S): N/A

VOICE CLAIM(S): Kanehira Yamamoto (JP)

GENDERBENT FC(S): N/A

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?:

If Disgaea ever started spin-off animated movies and the moons aligned and Nemo got his own, I would personally make it about his backstory as a whole! From his time in the Rekidonan army, his entire downfall and transformation into Judge Nemo, and then cover how he spent the 400 years. Maybe also have a moment where’s he really detached from reality and talks to “Artina” and expose his fears and his genuine desire to join Artina and his belief that destroying humanity is his only purpose in existing anymore.

Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE?:

He, uh, has his own theme song so something like that I guess?

Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?:

1. I love Nemo more than life itself. I wuv one terrible judge man.

2. Nemo and his struggles are a topic I enjoy exploring for uh, reasons, as depressing as those explorations may get.

3. The man needs at least one RPer.

Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

Aside from hitting my villain checkbox, and then my tragic villain checkbox, I just feel for that for Disgaea he’s a surprisingly deep character? Like, Disgaea is known for hilarity and then gut-punching you right in your emotions when you least expect it but dang they went hard for Nemo.

Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE:

Other than him being a bastard to everybody and everything? Probably his obsessive tendencies and how he kind of... can’t see grey anymore. He may acknowledge the morally gray but...

Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?:

............. Uh. We both wear glasses?

Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?:

I’m a human. Nemo hates humans. Therefore, he would hate me.

Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?

In canon at least, I really think Nemo has a fascinating dynamic with Valvatorez. It’s interesting to see how he alternates between being a complete shit to Valvatorez and then letting all his hatred and anger towards the vampire be completely exposed. Also I lowkey headcanon that Nemo as a soldier was similar to Valvatorez except, way toned down and chiller.

Q9: WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?:

Music from my playlist for him or watching the cutscenes he’s in.

Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?:

I didn’t work on this in one sitting, I just... did it whenever I had the time or braincells for it so I really can’t say?

[j-ivy]

Much, much love to my brother Rhymefest!! Truly appreciate you!! 🙏🏾✊🏾🙏🏾 #Repost @rhymefest ・・・ Here’s 2 Great recommended Reads, from authors I’m blessed to know and admire. 1) @j_ivy- “Dear Father, Breaking The Cycle Of Pain”, lyrically weaves through the emotions of a boy longing for a father, only to find he was always his own best guide. This book is street savvy, authentic & Wise words of a Poet bein spoken. #inmyfathershouse 2) Tom Burrell’s “BRAINWASHED” A really dope analysis of the way media purposefully manipulates images, numbers & marketing messages for maniacal purposes. Mr. Burrell began one of the most successful Black Owned marketing firms in the U.S. and has created campaigns for some of the biggest corporate brands. These are from my personal collection. Check em’ out! #bythebookclub https://www.instagram.com/p/BsDs7I6lZ6x/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=bx1kqzvvgk9y