#the way chip feels so so guilty but still can’t quite bring himself to let the compass be destroyed???? OUCH

[magpigment]

(minor spoilers for episode 40-41 of jrwi riptide)

bro did ollie just get darkwood musician’d???????? my poor sweet boy noooooo 😭

[tyonfs]

i like me better (when i’m with you)

PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader 

GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff 

WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff

SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio

WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words

TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster​ @steamyjaehyun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!

SOMETIMES, THE AMOUNT OF HATRED YOU HAD FOR JEONG JAEHYUN AMAZED YOU.

To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.

If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.

It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.

It was the annual training camp.

Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?

Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.

“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.

“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”

“I’m fine.”

You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.

“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”

Ouch.

You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.

And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.

It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.

Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.

“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”

You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”

“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”

You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”

Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.

Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”

“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”

“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.

“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”

Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.

“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.

“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.

While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”

You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.

“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”

You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”

“You say that now but we all know—”

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.

You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.

Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—

No fucking way.

You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.

No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.

Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.

You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.

The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.

Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?

No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.

You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.

Literally.

He was standing right in front of you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”

You were falling when you jolted awake.

A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.

After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.

You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:

Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.

Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.

Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?

It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.

You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.

You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?

You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.

Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.

His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.

He was unavoidable.

He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”

“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”

You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”

“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.

He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”

“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”

“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”

“Then keep begging.”

“If you say so.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.

You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.”

He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.

What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.

Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead

Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.

Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.

Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.

“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.

You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”

“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”

“You did. Many times.”

“Just fuck off already.”

Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.

“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”

His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.

He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.

It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.

The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.

But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.

Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.

You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.

“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.

“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”

That voice was most definitely Mark.

“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”

“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”

You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.

You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.

You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.

“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”

“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”

“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”

“Let me in.”

You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”

“You liked it last night.”

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.

You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.

You were a terrible liar.

Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.

“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”

“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.

“Fuck off.”

This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.

The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.

You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.

He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.

The worst part was that you wanted to let him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”

“You’re such a—ah!”

He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.

He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.

“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”

“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.

Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.

“I refuse.”

“Be a good girl and do it for me.”

You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.

Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”

Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.

You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).

“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.

He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”

“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”

Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”

That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”

You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.

“You’re never late,” he pointed out.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”

Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.

Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.

The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.

“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”

You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.

“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”

“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”

“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”

That was news to you.

“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”

So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.

You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”

That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—

Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”

“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”

You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.

And it pissed you off.

“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”

“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.

Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.

You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.

When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.

He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.

“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.

You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”

“You heard correctly.”

“So what am I?”

“You’re Y/N.”

You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.

You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.

Maybe you’ve always liked him.

“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”

“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”

“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”

“Years.”

You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.

“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”

“So you cut me off?”

“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”

“No.”

Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.

“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.

“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.

“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.

“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”

Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.

You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.

You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.

“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”

He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.

“We’re in the water, you idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”

There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.

“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”

Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.

“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.

He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.

He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.

“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”

“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”

Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.

A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.

“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”

“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”

Love? Love?

You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.

But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.

Maybe this was different.

It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.

With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.

Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.

Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.

“You love me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”

“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”

Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”

“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”

“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords���I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You wanted to slap him.

“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”

“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”

“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”

“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”

The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.

“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”

“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.

You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.

It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.

You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.

You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”

Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”

He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.

It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.

Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.

Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.

“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.

In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.

Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.

“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”

Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.

“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.

Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.

You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.

Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.

“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.

“R-right there!”  you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”

Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.

You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.

Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.

Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.

“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.

You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”

“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”

You couldn’t even disagree.

“Sounds good.”

Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.

You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”

“Oops,” he replied flatly.

“I hate you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.

“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”

You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.

“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.

Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”

“Wait, so you were kissing?”

“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”

Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.

“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”

“Let me explain.”

“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”

Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.

Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”

“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”

“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”

“Yes.”

“And this morning before I picked you up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”

Mark gulped. “About that…”

Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.

“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.

“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”

“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”

You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”

“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”

“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”

It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.

“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”

“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”

Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”

“Alright, fuck you both.”

What the fuck even was a date?

This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.

Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.

Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.

Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.

Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.

You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.

He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.

Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.

Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.

Wait—

Were you his girlfriend?

“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”

You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.

Plan B One-Step.

You no longer felt bad for him.

“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”

You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.

Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”

Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.

Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”

You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.

And you never would.

[toosicktoocare]

ya’ll ever dissect a brief two-second clip in a trailer for a season of a show that hasn’t come out yet and concoct a small story around it that turns into an almost 2k-word fic at almost 2 am in the morning? no? just me? 

anyway, i’m obviously hung up on that brief clip in the 911 season 5 trailer where Eddie falls. Is he panicking? Maybe, and that’s definitely what I wrote about. though, halfway through writing, when I was just watching a gif set for the clip, i had a thought that maybe he was poisoned instead. but, well, I was in too deep by that point. 

Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks. 

There’s panic, Eddie thinks, when he’s on the job. Panic that strikes a chord against the adrenaline thumping in his blood. Panic that drives his muscles and activates the sheer need to act and save in his mind.

This, Eddie thinks, is not that type of panic.

This is the panic that pools at the bottom of his stomach, always there and always waiting to accumulate, to feed on his fears, to expand upward. This is the panic that slides past his rib cage in the background until it’s snaking around his lungs, constricting slowly until he suddenly can’t suck in a deep breath and thus panics harder.

This is the panic that chips away at his brain, replacing the known with the biting edge of the unknown. Burning away the calm and revealing the trauma that’s been tucked away. This panic nips at his heart and eats at his nerves until he succumbs to it, the icy trace of its presence bringing with it a cold sweat that slips down Eddie’s temples.

He tugs at his collar, his pulse pounding hard against his neck, but it’s not enough. His breath is trapped, unable to sneak past the panic molding over his lungs. His hand falls to his side limply, and for a moment, he stares at the ground, his vision swimming, the faint background sounds becoming lost to the roar of his heart.

He doesn’t realize he’s falling until his back hits the ground, the air trapped in his lungs pushing out with a low wheeze. The pain that erupts along his back is numbed under the weight of bottled memories, of the gun shot that ripped through his arm, of the blood painting his world in a thick, deep red that drowns him.  

“Eddie? I heard something fall.”

He’s no longer on the floor, instead lost in a hazy limbo, what he fears most unfolding before him. He’s gone, and Christopher is grieving. His son is shutting everyone out, his voice muted under the pain. The 118, once a solid foundation, cracks, and Buck? Buck screams his voice raw. Buck punches at a brick wall, over and over until his knuckles tear and bleed. He swings when Bobby tries to stop him, and then he crumbles.

“Edmundo!”

As quickly as it comes, it’s gone, and Eddie gasps, the single breath a mountain to climb over. He’s at Ana’s. It’s their date night, and she was finding a pair of earrings she received as a birthday gift a few years back. They were set to leave for their dinner reservation in just a few minutes.

His shirt is damp against his skin, and he trembles the entire way to his feet, each muscle wobblier than the last.

“Edmundo, what happened? Are you ill?”

Ana’s frantic at his side, and she palms at his forehead, the worry across her face evident even through his fuzzy vision. He shakes his head, and she pulls her hand away, lips pointed downward.

“You’re ice cold,” she worries, one hand sliding down his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head again, unable to speak around what little breaths he’s able to take in. He’s on autopilot when he’s helped over to Ana’s couch, and he fades in and out of the present, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he struggles to recapture his breathing. His hands are fists at his knees, and he hunches over, curling in on himself, shielding himself.

He stays this way until a hand tugs lightly at his wrist and a voice calls out his name gently. He’s slow to lift his gaze, but when he does, Buck crowds his vision, blue eyes impossibly worried before him.

“Buck?” He croaks out, and Buck nods sharply, his fingers pressing to the inside of Eddie’s wrist.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures calmly. “I’m going to check your pulse, okay? Keep your eyes on mine.”

Eddie can only nod, the lump in his throat keeping his words from him. He trains his gaze to Buck’s. He knows Buck is counting silently to himself, and yet, Buck’s gaze doesn’t waver; his concentration doesn’t fold in the slightest. His eyes are sharp, focused, and after sixty seconds, his face relaxes a fraction, and Eddie’s lungs deflate with a low sigh.

“You’re okay,” Buck whispers, leaning forward until his forehead knocks lightly against Eddie’s, warm compared to his Eddie’s clammy one. His hand finds the side of Eddie’s neck, cups it gently, and Eddie holds the position, pulling all his focus toward the weight of Buck’s hand, the heat spreading across his forehead and down to his cheeks, his neck, stopping at his heart.

“I’m okay,” he finally repeats, voice low, cracking slightly, and only then does Buck pull away, frowning.

“Ana called.” Buck keeps his voice quiet, just a breath above a whisper. “She said she found you on the floor.” He opens his mouth, prepared to press further, but Eddie shakes his head sharply.

“Not here. Where’s Chris?”

“Kitchen with Ana.” Buck rises to his feet and steps away from Eddie’s view. “Sorry, I didn’t want to leave him—”

“—It’s fine,” Eddie mutters, his ears perking up to hear Christopher and Ana talking nearby. Christopher giggles quietly, and the furrow of Eddie’s brow smooths over slightly. “I need to postpone our date,” he adds, more to himself, and Buck extends a steady hand to help him off the couch.

“I’ll get Chris settled back in the jeep. Will you be okay to drive your truck back, or should I arrange to get it for you later?”

“I can drive,” Eddie mumbles weakly, and then Buck crowds his vision again, worry painted down every inch of his face.

“Try that again. If I still don’t believe it, I’m taking your keys.”

Eddie sucks in a deep breath. His chest still hurts, the panic still a nagging sheet of ice burrowed deep in the base of his stomach, but he’s able to hold air in his lungs until he exhales slowly, the line of tension across his shoulders breaking.

“I can drive.” He repeats, stronger, and Buck nods, his own body relaxing.

“I’ll see you back at your house, then. Be careful.” Buck turns on his heel, a smile playing across his lips as he rounds into the kitchen with Eddie close behind him.

“Chris! Do you want to put the band-aid on your dad’s arm?” Buck turns to lean in close to Eddie, whispering, “I told him you fell and hurt your arm.”

Eddie mouths ‘thank you’ at the same time Christopher shouts, “Yeah!”

Eddie plants a smile across his lips, forced against the lingering, nagging edge of panic, and he rolls up a single jacket sleeve halfway up his arm. He crouches down, points to an unmarked spot on his arm, and Chris carefully, almost delicately, spreads a Superman band-aid across his arm.

“All better?” Chris asks, and Eddie nods as he gets to his feet. He ruffles Christopher’s hair, his own smile warming across his lips.

“All better,” he repeats. “Thanks, bud. You okay to go back to the house with Buck? I’ll meet you there?”

“Yep!”

Christopher offers multiple goodbyes before he and Buck slip out the door, leaving Eddie to work around just how exactly to explain to Ana that he’s not sure he can do this right now, that he’s succumbing to the issues he’s been too stubborn to recognize over the last couple of months. That he would be miserable company for he’s too wrapped up in a gut-wrenching fear that bears its fangs when he least expects it.

“It’s okay, Eddie.”

Her voice is impossibly soft beside him, soft but classically genuine, and he turns toward her, frowning.

“Ana, I’m so sorr—”

“—Don’t,” Ana interrupts, stepping toward him and brushing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Her breath is warm against his skin, her voice delicate, her words knowing where to step and where to tread gently. When she pulls away, Eddie almost feels guilty at the relief, at the weight that drops from his shoulders.

“Talk soon?” He asks, and she nods, a small smile tight at her lips.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, and he means it. Every inch of him means it.

---

When Eddie pulls into his driveway, he turns off his truck, but he doesn’t rush to get out, instead sinking against the exhaustion that’s been creeping over him his entire drive home. He’s drained, emotionally and physically, and he tips his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. He doesn’t look when his car door opens at his side; he only sighs.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.”

Buck’s being careful, Eddie thinks. He can tell by the way Buck’s tone almost tips up into a question, just not quite reaching that pitch. He’s leaving an opening for Eddie, and Eddie takes it. His eyes flutter open, and he rolls his head toward Buck.

“I’ve got some issues,” he says, and the laugh Buck lets out is nervous, worried.

“You don’t say.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” Eddie admits, twisting around until his legs are hanging out of the door. “Tonight was a lot.” He can see Buck taking in his words, dissecting them in a way he does best.

“You look exhausted. Do you want me to go—”

“—No!”

Buck’s jaw snaps shut at the force of Eddie’s single shout, and Eddie slides out of the car, slumping forward, his forehead dropping against Buck’s shoulder. “Sorry. No, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to be alone right now. My thoughts are—”

“—dark?” Buck finishes, his hand slipping to the small of Eddie’s back. “Not you,” he continues. “Scary?”

“All of the above,” Eddie mutters, and Buck’s hand presses against his back, pushing until Eddie’s flush against his chest. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s back, and Eddie returns the hug, melting against him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Buck whispers. “I’m going to be here, and I’m going to help you.”

Though Eddie knows Buck would quite literally bend over backwards for him, the ease of Buck’s tone, the determination laced within Buck’s words, cracks the icy panic that’s nestled in his stomach. It surprises Eddie still—just how much Buck is willing to be there for him no matter what.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and for the second time in a single night, every entire inch of his being means it.

[agent-cupcake]

You know, you've written a lot of your thoughts/hcs/etc on how various characters would behave as yanderes and so on, but I've never seen you talk about yandere readers before and I feel like that's an interesting subject to consider? Especially for 3H - you have a treasure trove of damaged boys to attract obsessiveness from girls who are convinced they are the ONLY one for them and it's their duty to drive away competition/threats/anyone they want.

Okay it's time to be toxic. I’m not going to go for all the guys, just the ones who immediately came to mind.

Dimitri: I joke quite often that I would be yandere for Dimitri. It all started when I brought up killing the girl he danced with at the White Heron Ball and quite frankly it's only spiraled from there because doesn't the Savior King Dimitri deserve to be adored and worshipped? Doesn't he deserve someone who wants the best for him and only him? Doesn’t it only make sense for him to be with someone who understands his mental issues and is willing to offer him unconditional support and patience? Doesn't he need someone with unwavering loyalty who will do anything no matter what the cost for his sake? It'd be so easy too because he's super dependent, desperate for affection, and clueless so if you just nourish those traits and constantly downplay his discomfort/suspicion of you driving away anybody who you feel is a threat by saying that this is how relationships just are, that it's just because you love him so much, that you're just looking out for him, what's he gonna do? It's not like he'd have any solid basis for knowing how relationships are supposed to be. Besides if he gets too upset you can threaten to leave him just like his mother did, I'm sure that would work to get him back in your arms (where he belongs). Yeah, that’s a little fucked up but it would be so much worse for both of you in the long run if you were apart. Being too aggressive or overt about your obsession would definitely make Dimitri wise up so it'd be better to go with love bombing. This would be good because it really lets you prove your devotion to Dimitri and makes it easier for him to just laugh off and excuse your disturbingly possessive behavior. His friends would be potentially problematic, but they're not always around and Dimitri's private enough that he probably wouldn't volunteer information about you to them. If you told him that it made you very upset and uncomfortable when he was friendly with the girls from his class, he’d most likely stop for your sake. Bonus round, have his babies. What is he going to do, abandon the mother of his children? Dimitri?!? No way. Of course he wouldn’t do anything to risk breaking his family, but neither would you! After all, this is all because you know Dimitri better than anyone which means that only you can love him.

Sylvain: Sylvain being manipulative and cheating on you after you try and prove your love to him through conventional means causing you to snap and kill hurt the girls, throw his lies back in his face, and prove that you're the only girl for him by preying on his emotional trauma with women is really something to consider. Why try to resolve toxic situations with love, compassion, and open communication when you can use blood and abuse to keep him with you? Play the part, be snarky, witty, flirty, be super hot and cold to keep him intrigued, give him the best fuck he's ever had, really show him that you don't care about his Crest, you just want to love possess him. Maybe even do the whole "I don't care who you're with, we both know you belong to me" to really engage him in those super fun mind games. Make everyone else acknowledge that you're the perfect girl for him, get them all to vilify him for continuing to be such a womanizer and breaking your heart. But, like, why stop there? Encourage him to retaliate, to be mad at you. Tease him for being so disgusted and angry at you when all you want, all you've ever wanted, was for your hearts to beat as one and then later act confused because of course you wouldn’t make light of his feelings like that, that’s horrible. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was for him to acknowledge that your adoration for him is true. Really break him until he gives you the whole “I’ll let you chain me up so I never even look at another girl” schtick. This might seem awful, but so is he! Reform can be difficult and if he’s going to be happy, he has to be made to understand why his behavior was so bad and the consequences of it. Because it’s not like you’d act like this if you had any other choice, it’s not like you’d continue once the two of you were truly together, of course you wouldn’t treat him so cruelly once he vowed himself to you and only you. And, really, I think it’d be a lot easier once he understood that and you got to prove your love to him through raw, unadulterated affection. Spend every day adding onto the list of why you love your Sylvain. 

Claude: Claude being more than aware of the ole' saying "don't stick your dick in crazy" and then doing it anyway because he has a proclivity for the fiery, forbidden, and oh-so temping call of danger would be the perfect set up for a very bad predicament. You’d have to play some mind games to really convince him that he’s the one seeking you out, he’s the one who’s got it bad, he’s the one who wants to have you. In other words, you’d have to give him a challenge. But, you know, if it’s a game, you’d have to play back because you’re doing this for him, because you love him, because you want him to realize that he loves you, too (Uno reverse Claude’s yandere behaviors, basically) so obviously you’d have to eliminate any obstacles and taking out anybody who could be a potential threat. Get him to open up about his dreams, his past, his feelings. As it goes with basically all of these affection-starved men, make him feel loved for who he is. You know, if you were really good, you could probably even get him to give up on everything else for your sake. I mean, I loathe the ending but he does that for Lysithea. Pull a Tangled on Claude and make him believe that you’re his new dream as he mostly certainly is yours.

Felix: Sweet Felix. So oblivious but so difficult. A man who would provide the ultimate and most dangerous yan rival of them all: the thrill of the fight. In a lot of ways, I think he’d be like Dimitri. Mostly just because he’s so dense when it comes to love of any kind. But he’s also not as emotionally desperate or dependent so you wouldn’t really be able to use that against him. The similarities come from Felix’s equal amount of inexperience with romance which opens up a lot of possibilities for you convincing him that certain behaviors are normal. You can even bring up how his cold emotional state (something I believe he’s insecure about) is what forces you to be so overbearing, how badly it hurts you.  You don’t necessarily mean to be so cloying but you’re so afraid of losing someone else you love so much (another insecurity of his). After all, there is nobody in the entire world who is like him, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, (three for three with his insecurities) and how irreplaceable and precious he is to you. These examples are kind of “soft” when it comes to using his insecurities against him, but you could go further with them assuming you were sure that it wouldn’t drive him away. Not knowing and having to work on assumption would always be a pretty big reason to control yourself in how you went about manipulating him because Felix is stubborn and prideful and pushing him too far would only hurt the both of you. It’s actually kind of funny because as opposed to the traditional yan mindset, it would be in your best interest to get Felix to form relationship bonds with others (but definitely not any of the girls he’s so popular with) because that would be a bargaining chip when convincing him to stay with you.

Ferdinand von Aegir: Ferdinand is, honestly, so easy for this. Like, I feel as if I don’t even need to talk about the details. You show him some affection and he’s yours. Bury him in love and praise. Tell him that it makes you unhappy when he talks to other girls or prioritizes his work over you and then reward him with boundless warmth and devotion because of course he would bend over backwards to make you happy. He just wants to be needed and treasured, to love and be loved. He’s already got the poetry and the ring and of course he wouldn’t mind getting married right away it’s true love, why would you wait?

Yuri: Yuribird is the forbidden darling. You’d need to be running on 100% love because he’d sniff out and ditch you at even the smallest whiff of deliberate obsession. But you know what he wants? More-so than the other guys, in some ways. He wants to be known and loved for who he is. In the face of genuine affection, he doesn’t stand a chance. Still, you’d have to be measured about this stuff. If you were jealous and got rid of your rivals yourself, Yuri would be disgusted and leave you. And you can’t hide that sort of thing from him, either. You’d have to go all in on the manipulation but only in the most honest way possible, that’s the only way past his defenses. Get him to prioritize your feelings first so he feels guilty talking to people or acting in ways that upset you. Reward him for putting you above everyone else. Constantly remind him that you’re the only one who knows and understands him, who loves him for who he is. Get him so emotionally fucked that even if his big brain logic is telling him that you’re toxic and horrible, he can’t stand the thought of being without you. He’d give up crime, it’s not like he even particularly likes it. Set up the perfect life for him, something domestic and sweet and warm, something he’s never had worries he doesn’t deserve, something that keeps him away from others. The goddess only knows how much he deserves a happy dream for once, and you’re the only one who can understand and provide that for him.

[fettsvette]

Never Worn White (Part Two)

Cloud City, Bespin. Boba Fett is on the hunt for a casual fuck before he cashes in on Han Solo’s bounty. You’re a naïve virgin, saving yourself for an adolescent fantasy… and it just so happens that he’s in town. Upon encountering the object of your infatuation though, you didn’t expect he’d be so willing to help you out.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 6.8k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Loss of virginity and unprotected sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

 vaar’ika - little runt

  nehutyc’ika - feisty one

 cyar’tomade - fans

   -

  “Your boyfriend’s at the Atrium.”

  The words were like a lightning strike through the very fiber of your being, your whole body vibrating, no matter how teasingly and sarcastically they were meant. Your head jerked up so fast from the holopad screen you’d been gazing at that you felt as if you had just given yourself whiplash, and your blood pressure instantly skyrocketed, leaving you feeling light-headed and dizzy. Your roommate grinned lecherously at you, their eyes glinting mischievously. They were one of the few people to know about your feelings for Boba Fett, and it was obvious now that they were torturing you, feeding you false information and getting your hopes up just to watch you fluster and squirm like a giddy schoolgirl. Of course, they didn’t know the extent of your infatuation, and what you were planning if you ever happened to cross paths with the infamous bounty hunter during his unprecedented stay in Cloud City. You didn’t intend to allow them to find out, either.

  “...What are you talking about? Stop it...” You replied faintly, gazing up at them dumbly from your perch on the couch, uncrossing your legs and attempting to knead the life back into the prickling muscles. Your gaze drifted to your hands as you did so, trying futilely to get them to stop shaking just so your flatmate didn’t have something else to rib you over, and then skirted over to the wide window looking out over the city. Neat rows of transports crisscrossing in every direction lined the nighttime sky, carrying Cloud City’s citizens and tourists alike to where they needed to go. You couldn’t help but direct your vision towards the vicinity of the entertainment district, its bright lights plainly visible from your apartment. The Paradise Atrium was only a short distance away from your apartment on Figg Avenue, even closer than the landing bay where the Slave I was still docked. There was no way. It was too good to be true, simply meant to be. He was coming closer and closer to you.

  “I’m not kidding. Boba Fett’s at the Paradise Atrium, right now . I had to stop there on my way home to drop off a couple containers of glitterstim my boss owed the slimeball that owns that place, y’know? I walked in and he was literally right there in the cantina, just sitting at one of the booths in the corner… the ones they always reserve for the really top-tier VIPs.” They explained seriously, and you envisioned the layout of the lounge in your mind, an establishment you had visited quite often. Your thoughts brought you to the very rear of the adjacent and aptly-named Paradise Cantina... into the recesses of a shadowy booth, where sat an imposing figure in a battle-worn suit of Mandalorian armor, reclined against the plush backing of the stall, legs spread almost obscenely wide. His codpiece was mysteriously absent, and you could see everything . He beckoned you closer with the twitch of a gloved finger ...and you shook yourself from your reverie, acutely aware that a cold sweat had started collecting on the back of your neck. You fought the urge to slap yourself across the face, the imagined mercenary still calling to you from your subconscious.

  “Okay, okay… crik. Are you absolutely sure it was him?” You pleaded desperately, and your roommate openly rolled their eyes in your direction, shaking their head incredulously. You needed to be sure . You’d heard of the Fett imposter Jodo Kast, and even though the presence of the Slave I on-world was an immediate indication that the visitor was the real deal himself, there was still a niggling disbelief in your mind. This just could not be happening right now.

 “Of course I’m sure! Kriff, how many Mandos do you think are just walking around Cloud City? Beefy-looking buckethead wearing green scrap metal, more weapons on him than stars in the sky. Poor kid they had serving him was terrified, the guy was shaking so bad he almost dropped a whole tray of brinebrew on the graysuits that were in the booth with him. And - okay, are we just going to ignore the fact that I called Boba kriffing Fett your boyfriend and you didn’t even blink? Honestly, I really can’t believe you sometimes…”

  You didn’t even wait for them to finish. The fact that there were apparently high-ranking Imperial officers meeting with this mystery man was all the information you needed for any seed of doubt in your mind to be crushed. The holopad fell from your hands to land screen-down on the floor, entirely forgotten. Leaping up from the couch and power-walking towards your bedroom on tremulous legs, you flung the door closed behind you and hurriedly began rooting through your closet, looking for something halfway presentable to change into. You stripped yourself of your sweatpants and ripped t-shirt, having instantly settled on a glittering shimmersilk dress that you’d impulsively bought as a present to yourself after your last pay raise. You paused as you pulled the thin material over your head, debating whether or not to put on a bra before you dressed any further. With a curt sigh at yourself, you continued to slip your arms through the straps, smoothing the bunched fabric over the swell of your breasts. There was no point in bothering with one of those itchy, lacy garments you owned, that only you had ever laid eyes on - if all went according to plan tonight, your bra would just be coming off sooner rather than later anyway. You bent to slip your bare feet into a pair of plain black flats - you’d considered heels for a brief moment, but decided against them on the off-chance you had to make a quick getaway - when you were interrupted by the bedroom door colliding with the wall as it was unceremoniously flung open.

  “...And just where the frozz do you think you’re going wearing that ?” A disbelieving voice intoned harshly from the doorway, and you looked up to see your roommate blocking the light flooding in from the living area, a panic-stricken expression written across their features. You paused, your arms hanging limply at your sides, staring determinedly back at your roommate, whose face was beginning to reflect a dawning sense of horror and understanding. 

  “ Out. ” You answered in a bland monotone, snatching your handbag off the bed and peeking inside of it, making sure that the keycard to your apartment door, as well as your credit chip and a healthy pouch of physical Imperial credit coins, were tucked away safely inside. Your roommate strode forward, grabbing your forearm and squeezing tightly, causing you to wince as they forced you to look them in the eye.

  “Out where ?”

  You didn’t reply, your plans already dangerously close to unraveling. Your roommate’s grip tightened to the point of pain, and you were stunned to see that their eyes had filled with tears of fright. You knew you should feel guilty for putting them through this sort of duress, for worrying them to the point of weeping over your safety, but the only thing you found yourself feeling was a sort of grim pleasure. The fact that someone you had grown so close to in your years of living in Cloud City, a creature you considered to be one of your closest friends, could be frightened to this level by the thought of you becoming somehow entangled with the notorious Boba Fett, did nothing but give you a sick sense of satisfaction deep in your gut. It heightened the swirling arousal that was already building deep in the pit of your belly, fantastical images of what this night’s adventure could possibly bring already brewing in your mind. Your roommate finally loosened their vice grip on your arm and shook their head unbelievingly, backing away from you as if you were tainted.

  “Oh, stars … I know what you’re thinking. Please don’t do this. This isn’t some game of Droids and Guards, you fool, he’s dangerous .” They begged, seeming nearer and nearer to tears with every word. 

  “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing. I’m not going to get myself into a situation I can’t handle, I just… I just want to see him.” You adjusted the strap of your handbag on your shoulder and heard the childish, lovestruck pleading in your voice. You hated yourself for it, for letting yourself get this much in a tizzy over a mere man - but this truly wasn’t just a man, was it? You could very possibly wind up in bed with none other than Boba Fett by the end of the night, if the galaxy was kind to you. He was going to be the first to ever claim you - as you pushed past your roommate and headed for the door, you were certain of it. This was your darkest, deepest fantasy come true, something you had been pining for and secretly dreaming about since you were old enough to even fathom the concept of sex, of virginity. Boba Fett was the only man you’d ever thought about giving yourself to for years now, and this was quite possibly your only chance. There was no turning back now.

  “Didn’t you hear me say that he was surrounded by Imps?! High-ranking Imps ! He kills people for money! He’s here working for the Emperor, I know it, and that big brute Vader’s still lurking around -” You held up one hand to silence them, and to your surprise, they immediately stopped, wild-eyed and staring at you imploriously, hands raised above their head. You had never seen your friend this keyed up, this stricken by concern for your wellbeing. It felt strange to say, but other than mynocks in your stomach from thinking about how the rest of the night could go, you didn’t understand just what this panic was all about. You weren’t stupid enough to interrupt important Imperial business, and it wasn’t like Lord Vader himself was going to be sitting at the bar, nursing a drink - right?

  “Just… don’t wait up for me tonight. Okay?” You quietly begged your friend, your voice sweetly soft and as neutral as you could manage. A long moment passed between the two of you, no words spoken, just gazing into each other’s eyes. Several beats passed in silence, only the traffic outside interrupting the heavy tension that filled the room. Your roommate was the first to break, their shoulders sinking, defeated. You felt a new burst of energy and smug satisfaction, but couldn’t help but feel somewhat remorseful at your reaction towards their obvious distress. The feeling passed quickly, however, when your roommate bowed their head, the ghost of a smile on their lips as they clucked their tongue and shook their head at you.

 “Dank farrik… you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that? ...But okay. You win.” They sighed. You kept your expression even, although you were screaming with joy on the inside, and were about to reach out to embrace them, when they took a step back and pointed in your face. You felt yourself going slightly cross-eyed, following their finger down the bridge of your nose, and had to stifle an ill-timed giggle. “But if you’re not back by sunrise, I’m contacting the Wing Guard and reporting you missing, and I’m going to tell them who you were trying to meet up with. I’ll get Baron Calrissian and the Alliance involved. Don’t think I won’t.” They continued, and your heart skipped a beat. You certainly weren’t expecting that turn of events, but weren’t exactly surprised either. With how sympathetic your roommate was to the Rebel Alliance, especially concerning the events of the past week and the installation of what the locals were beginning to call the ‘Iron Blockade,’ it made sense that they would threaten you with action involving the Rebellion, even if it was just out of concern for your safe return. It wasn’t that you didn’t support the Rebels yourself - their crushing blow to the Empire in the form of the destruction of the Death Star had reinvigorated your hope in their cause, especially after the horrific obliteration of Alderaan - but the purely selfish, immature side of you wondered what would happen to Boba Fett if the Rebellion were to come out the victors of this current Galactic Civil War. He was one of Vader’s most loyal hunters, and you had a feeling that the Rebels wouldn’t smile kindly upon his transgressions against them. Especially since one of their most famous generals, Han Solo, currently had a bounty on his head large enough to buy an entire spice mine, and it had been speculated on the HoloNet that Fett was one of the many mercenaries attempting to cash in on this coveted prize.

  You walked past your roommate without another word, slipping past them in the doorway of your bedroom, and padded easily across the living area carpet, knowing now that they’d had put their last word in and would no longer attempt to stop you. Settling your hand upon the doorknob leading into the hall, you were about to let yourself out into the night when you heard the Aruzan softly call your name, and you turned. They stood in the center of the room, smiling sadly, arms folded across their chest, a look of intense worry upon their face as they watched you exit, hoping they would find you back home in the morning. Their last words to you rang in your ears as you made your way across the night sky in the space taxi that would deposit you right on the steps of the Atrium.

  “Good luck.”

  -

  You stepped into the main lounge of the Paradise Atrium and instantly felt incredibly out of place, and exorbitantly underdressed despite the expensive shimmersilk you had draped yourself in for this special occasion.

  The room was filled with regal-looking creatures from all over the galaxy - a large group of Twi’leks sat on a couch in the far corner, smoking from a hookah and emitting large columns of purple and green smoke through their nostrils in between bouts of gay laughter, and a company of important-looking Nothoiin congregated around the elaborate carbonite sculpture placed in the center of the room. You’d attended gatherings at the Atrium many times before, but you’d never been in the presence of so many upper-class individuals. You wouldn’t be surprised if just one of these creatures was currently carrying more credits in their pockets than you would ever see in your entire lifetime. Not to mention, there were several armored stormtroopers, their white plastoid suits gleaming in the artificial light, holding sentinel near the staff entrance at the rear of the room, a sight you’d never seen here before. Something was definitely going down in Cloud City, and you had walked right into it. That realization alone made you want to sink into the floor, and what made it even worse was the fact that there was no sign of Boba Fett.

  You had crept into the Atrium as discreetly as you could, almost on tiptoe, and in hindsight you weren’t exactly sure what you had been expecting. Had you thought that you’d walk in and Fett himself would have been standing there, awaiting your entrance like a prince from ancient myth, on call for his princess’s arrival at the ball? Heart hammering wildly, leaning against the wall for support, you had scanned the room twice, then thrice over, looking for a flash of green, a swirl of cape, any indication that he was present, only to come up empty. He simply wasn’t here; at least he wasn’t anymore, if he ever had been in the first place. As much as you loved your roommate, and despite their almost violent reaction they’d had to the knowledge that you were - at the very least - trying to meet Boba Fett, it wouldn’t terribly surprise you if they had been pulling your leg all along. You’d trudge back into your shared apartment, dejected, and your roommate would be there, grinning smugly, lecturing that the moral of this story was to never seek company with strange men.

  Gazing around the room once more and seeing no sign of Fett, or at the very least, the Imperial graysuits that he’d apparently been here meeting with, you found yourself almost embarrassingly heartbroken. You’d banked so much on tonight, only for it to wind up being a missed chance, if not a complete fake-out. You refused to give your roommate the satisfaction of heading straight back home, though, so you figured now was as good a time as any to drink your sorrows away at the bar. The Paradise Cantina was adjacent to the Atrium and contained a half-moon bar as well as several comfortable private booths, and you sidled onto one of the stools at the center of the console, directly in front of the bartender, a distinguished-looking Bothan who eyed you dubiously.

  “Anything I can get for you, kid?” He asked gruffly, polishing a glass and looking you up and down, feeling you out. Although you had lounged with friends at the Atrium, even attended a few workplace parties there, you’d never really been a patron of the bar, and you felt the clientele ogling you suspiciously. It obviously wasn’t an ordinary occurrence, to see a scantily clad young woman sitting alone at a high-class bar, and the various eyes on you made your skin crawl, although you did your best to ignore the unwanted attention.

  “Just a Jedi Mind Trick, please. Make it a double” You replied softly, keeping your eyes down, tracing your fingernail against the wood grain of the bar. You heard the Bothan snort, probably amused at your choice of such a strong drink right off the bat, doubting you could hold your liquor. The way you saw it, though, you’d rather spend the rest of the evening getting shit-faced here than simply slinking off home alone, to wallow in bed self-despairingly. 

  The bartender had just set the triangular container full of bright blue liquid on the counter in front of you when a door you hadn’t noticed on the far side of the room slid open, and a figure stepped out. A hush immediately fell over the room, which had previously been filled with glasses clinking, quiet conversation and laughter, and a holographic jizz band being broadcast. You didn’t bother to look over at first, too absorbed in your own self-pity to care, picking up the glass and knocking the entire drink back in one gulp, leaving the edges of your mind slightly blurred.

  That’s when you heard the spurs.

  Kshnk. Kshnk. Kshnk.

  At first you assumed it was solely a figment of your imagination, an effect of the alcohol being absorbed into your system, until you realized that the room had gone silent, that even the hologram of the band had ceased playing. You looked up at the bartender, but he was staring over the top of your head, paused in the act of refilling another guest’s stein. The jangling sound filled your ears until you could hear nothing else, not even the sound of your own breathing, and a chill went down your spine. You were clenching your empty cup so tight that you were surprised it didn’t shatter in your hand. Gingerly, you turned around to acknowledge the cantina’s newest arrival, your stomach rolling with anticipation, your blood singing in your veins, your heart pounding like a gigantic drum sitting in your chest cavity. You looked up.

  And there he was.

  Boba Fett.  

  He was shorter than you expected.

  You felt a near-hysterical giggle rise in your throat as the realization crossed your mind, that this was your very first thought upon seeing the man you’d envisioned fucking you time and time again - in person, finally. The laughter died in your throat as he turned to cross the room, only several meters away from you, and you got your first real look at him.

  Stars, he was beautiful .

  Boba Fett walked slowly, methodically, with more purpose than you had ever seen another creature move, even though it seemed his only motive at the moment was to find a place to sit down. The dented helmet that concealed his features didn’t break its steady gaze straight ahead even once as Fett crossed the room, even though every eye in the cantina was locked to him. There was no way the man didn’t know that he was currently the center of attention, the reason for the palatable silence in the air, and it was quite obvious that he didn’t care one parsec. The green armor he wore was littered with scrapes and scars and dents, but still shone in the low light of the bar, as if it had only just been waxed, and you shivered at the thought of getting to press your bare chest against the battle-flecked breastplate. A ragged cape was tossed over one shoulder, and your eyes were drawn to the string of inexplicable numbers glowing out from an interface on the right-hand side of his armor, and to the strange symbol mirroring its position, a stalk of grain framed by a bright red drop of blood and what looked to be lettering in a language you didn’t recognize, directly above his heart. There were several long braids of multi-colored and variously textured hair thrown over the opposite side of his shoulder plate, the sight of which sent another delicious chill up your spine. You knew you should be repulsed by the sight of those trophies of war alone, but it served as a confirmation of something you already knew - this man was dangerous . There was debate on the HoloNet as to the origin of those braids - some who’d been following Fett’s career, as you did, were adamant that they were made of the scalps of Wookiees he’d killed; yet others claimed they were the braids of Jedi Padawans he’d hunted down at the request of Lord Vader himself. Your eyes flitted downwards to below his waist, heat flushing through your system. The greenish codpiece was just as battered as the rest of the armor - even more so, upon a closer look. Judging by the craggy yet shallow indentation located almost in the dead-center of it, some unfortunate soul had made a last ditch effort to save themselves by taking a shot at what they must have thought was the most vulnerable area on Fett’s body. They had obviously been wrong, and you were grateful for it. 

  Almost seeming to move in slow motion, the bounty hunter passed directly by the bar, and you could have sworn you could sense his body heat even from several meters away, could smell blaster smoke and blood on him. As repulsive as those scents should have been, reminiscent of battlefields and death and suffering, you felt almost soothed by the thought of being able to press your face to the rough cloth that held the Mandalorian armor together, breathe in those aromas as deeply as you wished, a smell that was so distinctly him . You focused your gaze on Boba Fett once more just in time to see him settle himself at a raised table in the corner, reclining back casually. He seemed to finally notice that all other movement and conversation in the cantina had ceased upon his arrival, and his helmet swiveled first to the left, then to the right, making direct eye contact with several goggling patrons, who uneasily turned away under his gaze. Fett’s visor then turned in your direction and your heart walloped frantically in your chest - ‘ has he noticed me?’ - but it became obvious quite quickly that he was looking past you, straight at the Bothan behind the bar, who regarded Fett for a long moment before offering him a grudging nod. Almost as if this were some sort of cue, the holographic band started up again with a lively rendition of ‘Sugaan Essena,’ and the muttered discussions, tinkling of glasses, and laughter resumed. The clients of the Paradise Atrium and Cantina seemed eager to forget that the deadliest bounty hunter in the known galaxy was seated in their midst. Fett, however, had cast his gaze to the city outside, watching the rows of traffic track across the nighttime sky, gloved hands resting firmly on his knees, deep in thought. 

  You watched out of the corner of your eye as three young Zabrak women wearing matching skin-tight baffleweave bodysuits made a beeline for Fett’s table as soon as the atmosphere had settled down, obviously over-eager for their chance to flirt with danger. You sniggered when the armored figure sent them away with a wave of his hand before they even had a chance to close in on him, watched them turn tail with their heads down almost as quickly as they had first come. You tried to ignore the coiling pit of unease in your belly as you considered moving forward with your plan, despite the fact that it seemed for all intents and purposes that Fett did not want to be bothered. You continued to watch the man as his attention was drawn back to the outside world. ‘ Oh, hell. You only live once, right? What’s the worst that could happen, he tells you to kark off?’

  “Hey… would you send a drink over to that table in the corner? Whatever he usually orders when he comes here.” You waved the bartender over, pointing a thumb over your shoulder at Boba Fett, jerking your chin in his direction as well for emphasis. You were trying to play it cool, sending a drink to the table of one of the most bloodthirsty men in the galaxy, but you were sure that the bartender could see your hand shaking as you made the request. The tall Bothan looked at you as if you had asked him for a diamond-encrusted barrel of Coruscanti bitters, straight from the Emperor’s private reserve.

  “...You sure about that, kid? You do know who that is, right? Boba Fett’s one tough customer. You’d be better off not messing around with that barve.” He leaned down towards you, warning you off as if you were a child, trying to play with the older kids who would only include you in their games if it meant beating you within an inch of your life. You nodded, looking back with what you hoped was a steely determination.

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  The Bothan looked at you for a moment with great pity, as if he were gazing upon a creature that had just consigned itself to its doom. Heaving a sigh that quivered the fur lining his muzzle, the bartender turned and started preparing another drink.

  You couldn’t even look as the liquor was brought across the room by one of the ornate serving droids that wandered the cantina. You kept your head low, jiggling one leg on the stool beneath you, digging your fingernails into the glossy wood that encompassed the top of the bar. The minutes seemed to tick by excruciatingly, and you were overcome by the notion that maybe you should leave, get up and bolt when you still could, escape before Fett was aware of what fool had sent him the drink, go home to bed and forget any of this had ever happened. But too late - just as you were beginning to shift in your seat, to lean in the direction of the doorway and gather up the momentum to run, the bartender cleared his throat, causing your head to pop up at the sudden noise. The Bothan looked you in the eyes and did nothing but give you a subtle bob of his head, watching a point across the room. You followed his eyes, and stopped dead in your tracks.

  Boba Fett was staring at you.

  Openly leering at you was a better term for it, his entire body turned in your direction, lazily slumped in his seat, his legs spread comfortably wide. Kriff, this was just like your daydream. As soon as he was sure that he had your attention, and as if he had read your mind, one hand rose from its spot resting against the ample meat of his thigh, and two deft fingers hidden under an off-white glove of bantha leather beckoned you closer with a quick curling motion. It was an action that whispered, ‘ Come hither, my dear. Let’s play.’

  Your stomach lurched and your vision suddenly filled with black spots, and you bit down hard on your lower lip, the quick pain bringing you back from the brink of passing out. Your eyes refocused, the dark points fading away, and there he still sat, his position unchanged. He was waiting for you to come over. You looked back at the bartender for guidance - by now you were sure he had seen this song and dance played out here many times before - and the Bothan gave you a roll of his deep-set dark eyes, and a noncommittal shrug. He’d already written you off as another casualty, the sad result of human naïveté in the face of the galaxy’s bloodthirstiness.

  You rose from your stool on legs that felt as if they were made of bacta, your feet seeming to glide across the floor of the Atrium, bringing you ever closer to Boba Fett. The cantina patrons seemed to part like a sea for you, and you didn’t give a womp rat’s ass if they were staring, whispering about you. Your eyes and thoughts belonged only to the helmeted man who had beckoned you closer, and whose parted legs you were standing almost directly between when your long walk ended. You were so close that you could see yourself reflected in his blackened visor, dumbfounded. You were visibly trembling, and you could feel Fett’s body heat rolling off him, soaking into your own legs as you stood before him. It took you a moment to comprehend that he was waiting for you to speak, for you to make the first move.

  “...You’re here for Han Solo, aren’t you? Everyone knows you two have a rivalry and that you’ve been after him for ages now, and he’s here, and you’re here, and that can’t be a coincidence, right? It’s like -” The words rushed from your mouth in an excited torrent, and you were fully aware that you were babbling at him, but you couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. Every nerve-ending in your body felt sparked with the fire of a planet’s core, you were absolutely thrumming, and you didn’t care whether you sounded like an idiot in front of this man who you’d lusted after for ages, just as long as you were talking to him, that you had his attention. Mercifully, Fett’s palm came up, the same move he had used on the Zabraks earlier in the night. You stopped mid-sentence, your mouth still hanging upon, your eyes wide.

  “I’m here on business. What exactly that pertains to is none of your concern.” The reply was smooth and unhurried, and he didn’t even look at you. Boba Fett seemed much more concerned with what was going on outside the Atrium’s walls, his line of sight falling past you, towards the lights of the Administrator's Palace. Where Han Solo probably was, if the rumors of him being Leia Organa’s consort were true. So you were right. Even if he wouldn’t admit it in words, it was almost like the bounty hunter was showing you. At least, that’s how you chose to take it.

  “...Oh. Okay. ...Fair enough, I guess.” You cautiously replied, unsure of how to proceed when he offered no further conversation, and cringed inwardly. Stars , you were truly awful at small talk, especially with handsome men. No wonder you’d never gotten laid. Fett’s helmet snapped towards you like a sharp cut with a blade, his restraint with your dallying almost nonexistent, and you felt yourself flush hotly as you realized you’d just been staring blankly at him the entire time, drinking him up just as greedily as any Hutt would look upon a dancer. There was no way he couldn’t tell your intentions, and your confidence and excitability wavered. 

  “So what exactly is it that you want from me, girl? I don’t have the time nor the patience to be followed around and gifted tokens at bars by starry-eyed brats. Say what you will, or I’ll have you removed from my sight. Now .”

  There was ice in his voice, and you found yourself slightly afraid for the first time. The idea of Boba Fett growing angry with you was not something you wanted to experience. You had to say your piece now, or risk losing what you wanted forever. You balled your fists so hard that you were sure your nails were cutting through the skin of your palms, but you stood your ground. You weren’t going to let Fett intimidate you away from what you wanted of him, not now. You were too close.

  So you told him, blunt and straight to the point.

  “I’ve never been fucked. I want you to be my first.”

  Fett’s form stiffened in his seat, the gloved hand that had been nonchalantly resting on his thigh almost imperceptibly gripping the hard muscle beneath. You didn’t notice, nor were you able to sense the fact that he was holding his breath. 

  Despite the extraordinary self-control Boba Fett had cultivated over every aspect of his functions during his decades of bounty hunting, he felt his cock twitch involuntarily within the confines of his flight pants. He’d encountered plenty of cyar’tomade across the galaxy over the years, desperate creatures of all types looking to spend a night in his company just for the later bragging rights, others looking to fulfill some sort of bizarre erotic fantasy - he’d taken up plenty of those offers, and turned down even more. Boba Fett was a man who enjoyed sex, and he made no secret of the fact that he had been scoping the lounge for a prospective bedpartner after the meeting with Lieutenant Sheckil and his graysuits. That wretched smuggler Solo had a date with a carbonite chamber tomorrow evening after he and Vader’s planned ambush at the Administrator’s Palace in the morning, and Fett fully intended to vent some excess energy tonight before finally collecting on the barve’s hefty bounty. It was back to Jabba’s afterwards, and more bounties to collect on, and even less downtime. Fett enjoyed his life of solitude, practically thrived on it, but still… he was only human, and he had his needs. 

 What he hadn’t expected was being cornered and propositioned by a willing and eager virgin. And such a pretty thing, too. This was a first, and he had to admit he was already getting hard at the thought of teaching this naïf how to please a man, to be the one to take her like nobody had before, to show her just who exactly she was dealing with.

  “ Well … aren’t you a bold one.” He finally exhaled, still avoiding any semblance of eye contact with you, his focus seeming to be on stirring the cubes around his drink. You swallowed thickly, watching Fett’s index finger push the straw back and forth. He hadn’t touched the drink at all, but you didn’t care. You wanted that finger in your mouth, down your throat, glove and all, but shook yourself from the daydream when it occurred to you that Fett was watching, waiting for a response. 

  “I’ve found that fortune favors the bold.” You pushed yourself into the chair opposite him, trying to conceal how badly your legs were wobbling. You had waded chest-deep into completely unknown territory, and you felt as if you were going to faint at any moment if you didn’t take a seat. To emphasize your point, you reached out and grasped the drink you had sent to his table just minutes ago, tipping your head back and draining half of it in one swig. Your head swimming from the sudden rush of hard liquor, you settled the container back on the polished wood and steadied your gaze on the bounty hunter. Fett cocked his helmet at you, an amused snort emanating from underneath, a static edge to it thanks to the vocoder that helped conceal his voice. He laid his forearms on the table, leaning his upper body forward towards you, the posture of a gossiping schoolboy, mocking and insolent.

  “And what makes you think I’d want to be the one to break you in, vaar’ika ?”

  He almost purred the question, sickly sweet. There was no outright malice there, no, but he was teasing you; you could hear the laughter in his voice. You could tell he thought you were nothing but a stupid little girl who didn’t know what she was getting herself into, and it shamed you into silence. You felt your throat tightening, your eyes starting to burn, and you begged yourself, ‘ Don’t you dare start crying and prove him right. You know what you came here for. Don’t you dare. ’ But it was much easier said than done, and your attempt to coax yourself out of this panic only seemed to deepen it. You came this close to fulfilling your fantasy, you could have practically reached out and touched it, but it all had to fall to pieces because you were really nothing but a blubbering baby. You weren’t worthy of being with Boba Fett, and it had been a pipedream to think so even for a moment. 

  “I… I-I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking , coming here. I’ve made an ass of myself and I’ve completely wasted your time, I’m so sorry -”

  Your eyes brimming with embarrassed tears, hot and heavy on your lashes and threatening to spill over at any moment, you ducked your head and pushed the chair out as quickly as you could, moving to brush past the still-seated bounty hunter and make a break for it out into the cool night air. With a harsh gasp, you felt yourself suddenly being jerked back by the elbow, almost stumbling with the force of the pull. Boba Fett’s gauntleted hand was gripping your arm in an iron hold, the black void of his visor locked onto your face. There was no way to tell, of course, and you couldn’t say how you knew, but you could have sworn he was smiling at you.

  “ I didn’t say no , little one . Tell me again what you want of me.” Fett intoned evenly, but not unkindly, releasing his hold on you. To your shock, he ran his hand down your arm as he let you go, and it almost felt - of all things - reassuring . Arousal pooled to your core so quickly at Fett’s surprisingly soft touch and tone that it took you a few extra moments to even register what he had said.

 ‘He didn’t say no. It wasn’t possible. Does he actually want to? ...And he called me ‘little one.’

  You could have died then and there, on the plush carpeted floor of the Paradise Atrium, but your words found you, every ounce of courage in your frame flooding through your veins at once.

  “Take me back to your ship. Let me give myself to you. I want to be yours tonight… only yours. Please .” You laid a trembling hand on his wrist, still expecting to be violently brushed away, told to back off and go home if you knew what was good for you, threatened with disintegration or a blaster shot to the chest or something . But the harsh gesture or violent threat never came. The scarred green helmet tilted downwards to regard your fingers clutching at the armor, and after a quiet beat, Boba Fett’s gaze returned yours. Although you couldn’t see the eyes hidden behind that dark, T-shaped visor, you could feel them burrowing into your very soul, sweeping over you greedily, like a prize to be taken. Shivers rippled up your arms and your stomach rolled, but you weren’t afraid. Not anymore. Silently, you withdrew your fingers, letting your hands fall limply to your sides, and Fett nodded, seemingly satisfied with your plea. 

  “As you wish, nehutyc’ika. Come, then.” With that, Boba Fett stood in one swift motion, and held one palm out for you to take, open and inviting.

  You felt as if you’d been kicked in the chest. You were instantly sober, any trace of alcohol from the night’s earlier wallowing fully flushed from your system by the influx of adrenaline currently screaming through your body. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and for a brief moment you wondered if he was playing with you, if this were some sort of sick joke, but you knew in the deepest recess of your heart that it wasn’t. He was serious. He’d made a career out of not backing down on deals. Boba Fett was a man of his word. 

  So you took his hand and let yourself be spirited away into the night by a figure from your best daydreams, and from other creatures’ worst nightmares.

[everythingblreview]

Slow Damage review 2.0 Part 1

It’s 16 pages actually 

Hello I’m back and instead of actually writing a new review of a game, or playing a new game that’s a lie I’m playing more than one VN at the same time right now. I’ve been thinking a lot about slow damage lately and wanted to write my full thoughts/analysis on it. For this occasion, I replayed the game. This will be full of spoiler of everything in the game as well as the spoiler of the short story.

Disclaimer: This is MY opinion, I’m not wanting to start a discussion, this is just how I experienced the game. Not everything here will be in a positive light and I don’t hold back from criticize what I didn’t like. This is a fictional game so please don’t attack me. But if you are fine with me babbling 16 pages about the game, you can go ahead. Important to note: Towa is my favourite character, so my thought on the routes are all Towa centered

(I probaly forgot some stuff but please excuse the game is really long)

I will start from the unlocked route and work toward the true route. Starting with Taku~

Taku

After replaying Taku’s route I noticed some differences to my first time playing.

First his route was my second favourite in the game the first time I played it, but replaying it, it was not really interesting anymore. His story is all about him developing drugs for Toono because of his deb he made so he could study to become a doctor, but if you know already about this part there is nothing else to really investigate. His backstory with his mother is ok, he feels guilty for stuff he done in his route but that’s all there is, when you already know the secret Taku is hiding, there is not much left, that’s why is lacks something if you replay it.

The second thing is his relationship with Towa, before I talk about the problem, I personally  have with it I will talk about the things I did like: Taku already was protective of Towa since he was a child, and his feeling developed into more later on, from what Taku said we can assume his feelings turned into “like” after the incident with Asakura. Towa feeling to Taku developed during the time they spent together when they were both locked in the building. Taku was someone he always felt save with, back in his horrible childhood when no one was there for him, only Taku(it was probably the only time he could get away from his crazy mother), and after the fear of losing Taku he noticed he has deeper feelings for him (at this point we can’t say that is romantic love because Towa doesn’t understand this feeling, but Taku is special for him it’s canon don’t attack me). The development part of their feelings was nice and felt pretty realistic. Secondly, I like how they dealt with Taku falling for a guy. Taku said he wasn’t interested in the same gender from the beginning, but he didn’t say stuff like “I’m not gay, I’m straight” or something like that. He just said he is not experienced with it, and he didn’t just go for it after Towa “attacked” him and was still unsure at this point, and only later when he was sure he had romantic felling he went for it, which was quite nice.   Now to for the things that I can’t get over and ruin the relationship for me. First, from the true route we learn that Taku has been lying about Towa past the whole time, (telling him his mother was a great woman) so this relationship is already based on a lie. Towa mother was not a great woman like Taku tells, she is the whole reason Towa has suffered his whole life, and while Taku may not know the everything, he knows what Towa went through but still he keeps his mouth close. There is a scene after the confession scene, where Taku wanted to say something (probably about his past) after they talked about his mother, but decides not to even after Towa asked him about it. In the end after he gets released from prison Towa asked him again and he acts like he has no idea what he is talking about and just says something else. And this brings me to the thing that annoys me the most: How Taku deals with Towa’s mental health problems, or to say it simple, he just doesn’t. The first thing I noticed when I replayed it, Taku is acting like he doesn’t know about it, even though he does. Always saying how Towa behaviour (about him drinking, smoking and sleeping with guys) “was always like this” and saying that “your heart is still dead”. Taku you know exactly how horrible his past is how can you say such stuff??? He always tells Towa how he should stop doing it, but he doesn’t think about doing something to prevent it. I know that he is worried about him but the only thing he deals with are Towas wounds. His wounds may heal but his heart doesn’t if you keep putting only bandages on him Taku. He is really bad at dealing with mental problems, his way to get over it is just not to talk about, in the hope it will go away at some point but in Towa’s case it won’t ever go away, it is destroying him slowly from the inside.

He is also overprotective of Towa in a bad way, putting a chip in Towa after getting rid of Asakuras shitty DIY wings and even going as far as TRYING TO KILL Towa and I though Rei will be the yandere after Tonno tells him he won’t let Towa go after both of the get kidnapped by Toono. I understand that he wants to protect Towa and it is indeed dangerous to let Towa do what he wants because he doesn’t care for himself, but Towa need some kind of freedom, he is not stupid. He acts like Towa is his thing and I didn’t like this part. And the last thing, that left me in a uncomfortable feeling is in the very end he says Towa causes to many problem that why you should not leave him alone, but the goal would actually be to heal Towa to a point, where he does not need help anymore but we never get to it here sadly. (and please stop with the housewife Towa look in the end it hurts my eyes)

I also don’t like the age gap of 20 years in the relationship, because I cant deal with the thought of one person dying way before and leaving the other person behind but that’s a me problem.

The first time I was not sure what to think about Taku’s route but after knowing all this stuff and replaying the route, I just can’t like this pairing sorry.

All the things above are only about Taku and Towa’s relationship, I do like Taku as a person and I enjoyed that he is like a father figure toward Towa and like a family for him. It’s really cute that he really cares for Rei too and treats him like a son better than Rei’s trash father ever could like they are a small family.

Rei

From beginning we get to know Rei as Towa’s and Taku’s best friend, who speaks like a woman and acts a little like it, we also learn that he enjoys fighting and participate in deathmatches. His route is about his struggle with the deb his father (who is a piece of trash) has and his own gender. From the second chapter we learn that Rei is a pure soul, he is a good boy that does not see the bad in human. (Compared to Towa who had a bad feeling from the start) and Rei tells us that in his past he was always mistaken for a girl.

The first time playing his route, the whole thing about his gender felt really sudden but after replaying his route, they were some hints that Rei does struggle with it. Like him telling about his past and him asking Towa what is “manly”. Rei doesn’t want his friends to get involved with his problems that’s why he tries to keep his distance, but Towa is someone he can feel at peace with. Rei’s gender struggle comes from the fact that his parents treat him as a girl when he was a child, it really messed him up because he starts thinking that he was a girl, but still got kicked out by his father after telling him he is gay. Rei hated his own gender even going as far as trying to cut off his… in front of Towa. But through his love for fighting, he realized that he wants to be a man, and after talking (and fighting for fun) with Towa he decides he will now live and act as a man.

Not gonna lie, I really like Rei for his feminine side, though I never thought of him as a woman and while it makes me a little sad that he doesn’t want to be like it, I can accept that he wants to be a man, because in the end the “fem Rei” was never real. He was forced into this feminine roll and that was not the real Rei. What I like about his character is that, while he has his love for violence, he is still a innocent and pure soul. He really cares for others and only wants his best for his friends. (He is also the person, who is looking for true love and doesn’t sleep with others for fun) Even though his father is a big shit he still wants to help his father so he doesn’t start working with child trafficking again. He knows Towa since middle school and was always interested in him, but romantically only after the whole thing with Mizuno, when Towa protected him.

What I really didn’t like the first time I played it is that, while you can really feel that Rei likes Towa, Towa doesn’t share the same strong attraction. It felt more like Towa just agreed to this relationship in the end, but replaying it, I noticed that Towa does care for him in his own way, the first time it’s difficult to say because you don’t understand Towa’s personality. Towa always agrees do help Rei if he asked him for something and he worries about him. The relationship of all the pairings starts at the end of the game so it’s always difficult to say how it works out, but Towa did have a pleasant feeling after Rei’s confession and after they slept together. I want to see more development on Towa’s side because compared to his feeling for Taku in his route it felt weaker with Rei (for me), hopefully they explore it in the drama cd.

While Rei does say some things like Taku to Towa (that I didn’t like) I can’t blame him for it because he doesn’t know Towa’s past.

Regarding  Rei’s personality, I hope they don’t change to much about him, because it would be stupid to make a character and then change him after everyone already start liking him like the way he was. They changed his way of speaking (what you probably won’t notice if you don’t understand Japanese) which if fine, doesn’t bother me but if he will start saying stuff like “I can’t eat cake anymore because only woman do” …. Yeah please no. and he cut his beautiful long hair short noooo and it looks so bad please change it We have to wait and see how Rei’s change will affect him in the end, and I want to see how their relationship will develops  especially on Towa’s side

Madarame

I wanted to replay everything, just to make sure I didn’t forget anything, but with Madarame’s route I just had to give um in the middle. The first time I played it I went through it without problems because I was expecting something from it, sadly it never happened, but this time it was just like playing a never-ending bad end, and I just felt so sad that I had to stop playing. And now I can confidently say, I hate everything about this route. And I did give this route a chance because I don’t like to go into a game thinking I won’t like character, I try my best to understand the story and characters, but it was no use here. I just don’t understand why such a route was needed to for a character like Towa. Knowing how much Towa was abused in the past and that he suffers from extreme mental trauma because of this makes everything worse, this route really brings out the worst of Towa’s mental health issues.

Starting from the beginning we learn that Towa and Madarame used to hang out together and Towa did feel good hanging out with him (they were not in a relationship and there were no romantic feelings which is confirmed). Towa tells us that this was in the past and that he is not this person anymore, also he tells us that he doesn’t like following orders and doesn’t like treatment from Madarame, that’s why dealing with him is hard and after understanding this himself, he wanted to keep his distance. Of course this is not in Madarame’s favour, he want his “pet” all to himself (He even said Towa need an “owner”).So he kidnaps him and tries to break Towa, to let him remember how he used to be. For this he uses violence and treats Towa like shit. We know that he knows about Towa’s abuse in his childhood and still he uses the same horrible methods as Towa’s mother did, taking away his freedom and chaining him to a place, keeping him in silence which he hates. Raping him (of course Towa let it happen because he is used to it) and slowly breaking his mind so Towa starts thinking he needs Madarame. When Towa says something against him, he got angry or just straight up beats him. Towa has no freedom in this “relationship” it only goes the way Mada want it. There is no communication it’s just a typical “alpha male” top and controlled bottom dynamic between them. It was so sad seeing how Towa went against his friends after he spent some time under Madarame’s influence.

In the beginning Towa is so desperate that he would rather die than to be with Madarame, and I don’t know why we have to think this is “romantic” or some shit like that? Its funny how they tried to include them acting like a couple in the second half of the route. Like Madarame said Towa doesn’t need a collar anymore, sure because he is now manipulated into thinking he need Madarame. I will never forgive him for the emotional and physical abuse he let Towa go through in the beginning.

Madarame himself just feels like he is not even human, this guy has no feeling and his feeling for Towa are like a feeling you have for your pet (or better to say animal? Because you would treat your pet better) and he treats him like a pet. (I’m really not a fan of the whole “your mine” “you belong to me” thinking, human are not objects, just because you decide to be with someone doesn’t mean you are their property) I understand they wanted to go for the “he lives in the present not the past and he is honest and doesn’t lie” thing but it made him feel like he has no feeling at all. Showing that he likes cats made no sense to me, because what’s the point if he treats a cat better than Towa? Did they try to make him look like he has a loveable side? Because it sure didn’t feel like it for me. Trying to make abuse ok by showing that this guy likes animals in that case it’s totally ok …yeah sure not.

He really did everything to manipulate Towa into thinking that he needs to be on “this side”, the side that always abused him, by slowly breaking Towa. Towa himself has no understanding for right or wrong, he just does what he thinks is right for him in this moment, that’s how his brain works.  

Madarame says he and Towa are the same because both want violence, but I can only disagree, they couldn’t be any different Towa’s love for violence is a reflection of his abuse as a child, something that was done to him and he now thinks he needs, it’s something he does to try to cope with his trauma, his love for it is not real. While Mada on the other hand, likes it because who knows why it’s not like we ever get to learn anything about this guy because he never says anything. This guy wants nothing and is not interested in anything, I don’t get what I’m supposed to like here. The route ends with Towa and Madarame running away, leaving Towa life, his home and his friends that tried to protect him, to live their life on the streets fighting and enjoying violence, and for me this is the opposite of a good end, it’s just hurt knowing Towa is forever stuck in the circle of violence. (and blond hair really looks bad on him)

I played a lot of bl games and there is always abuse, rape and manipulation involved in almost every bl game, but this has to be the worst case of abuse I ever had to go through and this is coming from a person who likes Mink.

I may said a lot of negative stuff about Taku, but compared to Mada, Taku is an angel send from heaven Funny because Madarame says Taku is trash. The theme was to throw your past away and living in the present, but it felt more like let’s embrace the mental illness and violence.

(the only thing worth going through this hell one time is seeing Mayu, Kotarou and Towa in a suit, especially Towa looks very hot, boi)

The route had an interesting start, and they had a good backstory to write something good with all the stuff with Kaga and so one, but they did absolutely nothing with it and chose to make it about abuse, rape and manipulation, the easy way to force a “romance”(because there is no) into it, and in the year 2021 I expect just something better from it, consider how well the rest of the game is written. N+C really had to bring this rape abuse combination back, didn’t they? They got rid of some bl clichés and I’m thankful for it but we are only half through it, they still need time.

The route just felt extremely disappointing and made me feel horrible.

[linoshan]

DISTRICT 8

series

warnings: suggestive, violent themes, blood

“no entry other than the person concerned, this is the back door”

-

CHAN

tier 1

leader, royalty born, one of the twins

district 6 calling...

“chan! the council is calling, it seems urgent”, changbin yells, pointing at the tv monitor.

chan rolls his eyes, not even glancing his way. “tell them i’m busy” he deadpans, shaking his head as he refocuses back on his game of 8ball with felix.

“you should probably talk to them, you know how mad that wonpil guy gets when you ignore his orders”, felix states as he takes his shot, missing completely. 

chan chuckles.

he takes his cue and walks around the table, finding an angle. he leans down, focusing as he aims for the 8ball.

“..yes sir i understand, but he’s busy and-”

“seo, i see him right behind you”. changbin freezes, then sighs in defeat, moving out of the monitors frame to reveal a not-very-busy chan.

“MR BANG! WE NEED TO TALK! what you did last week was completely out of hand. the districts are a secrecy, it’s risky to act withou-”

clink!

the sound of the cue hitting the ball fills the room.

the 8ball goes in and chan smirks, finally looking up.

“you see. i completely understand that. but quite frankly.. i don’t care.”

-

FELIX

tier 2

the twins’ childhood family friend.

“what in the world happened here?” felix questions with disgust, walking around the half dozen people who are either unconscious or dead.

chan and ryujin laugh, both wiping the blood off of their favorite knives.

felix shivers at the sight. although he grew up with them, he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to the odd behavior of those two.

“what are you doing here lix”, ryujin smiles. “need something?”

“no,” felix says, still feeling disturbed. “i uh, brought cookies. i made them today because i had extra time and i-”

“chocolate chip?” chan interrupts.

“well duh what els-”

“YES!” chan exclaims, jumping up and walking right on the bodies as if they weren’t there.

felixs mouth drops. “oh my god dude.. really?!” he says in horror.

chan shrugs. “what?” he asks as felix shakes his head vigorously. chan reaches for the tin. “give me the cooki-”

“no!” felix says as he retracts it and holds it tightly to his chest. “you don’t deserve it, you.. you- ugh!”

ryujin bursts out laughing.

“what the fuck? you offered me cookies 10 seconds ago and now you’re not. i don’t get it” chan says, completely unaware of his actions.

felix stares at him with his lips parted, slowly shaking his head from side to side.

“i seriously don’t know how we’ve been friends for this long”. 

-

CHANGBIN

tier 2

chans lead man, family friends with royal family.

“the all mighty bang chan. the one they all fear. the son of the failure of a mafia leader,” the man tsked, “-right here, in front of me, wincing in pain” he laughs, turning around as if he’s going to walk away, but instead returns and lands another blow on chans jawline.

“like cmon! what is everyone so afraid of with you?” the man raises his arms in exaggerated disbelief. “what? should i bow?..” he stops to get on one knee “oh king i bow bef-”.

the sound of screaming behind him cuts him off. he turns his head to be met with a leather boot, completely knocking him out.

“took you long enough” chan said, immediately untying himself from the chair. “you know if you weren’t so hard headed, i wouldn’t have to go this far to get you out of the mansion” he says, rubbing his wrists from how previously tight the rope was.

changbin rolls his eyes. “when are you going to stop bothering me on saturday nights? we do violence shit all week. the least you could do is give me ONE night to relax”.

-

MINHO

tier 2

recruited assassin.

“stay away from her, this is your final warning” chan says, poking minhos chest before walking away.

“no”

chan halts his movements, turning around slowly.

“what did you say?” he says through his teeth, cocking his head to the side in disbelief. no one says no to chan, let alone look in his eyes without shivering in fear.

“i said no,” minho shrugs, unfolding his crossed arms and walking over to where chan stood. “your sister is her own person, she decides who she wants to be with for herself,” he says, smirking before continuing, “and by the way, she told me to tell you something if you tried to pull something like this”.

chan furrows his eyebrows, feeling his blood boil.

“she said,” he chuckles. “either you fuck off, or i fuck him”

“who do you think you ar-”

“however!” he cuts in, grinning.

“it’s a little too late for that proposition though, ain’t it?”.

-

HYUNJIN

tier 2

goodfella

( n; a gangster, member of a Mafia family.)

“hyunjin, you have 4 dead bodies around you right now and what you’re concerned about is the blood stain on your coat?”

“its about to be 5 if you don’t shut up. now hand over the stain remover stick.”

-

SEUNGMIN

tier 3 (by choice)

royalty born, cousin to the twins.

“cmon seungmin. we need your help for this one”, changbin says as he stands in the doorway of seungmins room.

“im sure chan can handle it” he says, not looking up from his book.

changbin rolls his eyes, moving to sit on his bed. seungmin furrows his eyebrows at the action.

“your cousin is stubborn. he just wants to act on it but we don’t even know the exact location, how much men are gonna be there, if they’re armed-”

“ok? why are you telling me this. i don’t care. i already told everyone im not about this kind of life”. seungmin says, taking off his round glasses in frustration.

“i know you aren’t. but we really need you for this one. we’re bringing the rookies for this job and i wouldn’t want them to go in blind like this”, changbin sighs.

he hands an ipad over to seungmin. “heres all the info we have about this gang. help us out. please”.

seungmins face softens at the sound of his plead.

great. now he feels guilty.

“fuck”. he groans, taking the ipad from the mans hand as he reaches back for his glasses. he puts them on and quickly swipes through the leads and notes taken by watchmen.

after a minute, changbin slowly stands up.

“thank you. i appreciate this a lot, we all do, especially the twins.. even if they don’t show it”. he looks up to see seungmin not listening, eyes glued to the screen. he sighs with a nod at the sight. “ok, just call me when your done, i’ll be in the-”

“monday, bayside harbor. at exactly 9:34pm. when you get there, there will be 6 guards at the east gate and 4 men by the pier. a shipment is coming in. lethal weapons. make sure they don’t leave with them, it’s most likely going to be used against us”. seungmin says, handing the ipad back over. “now leave. close the door behind you”.

-

JEONGIN

tier 3

just discovered as part of the royal family. clueless to his importance.

*at shipment dock

“yeah. its settled, the tier 3′s and rookies are transferring the weapons to our carrier now”, changbin says to chan on the phone as he looks around the area.

jeongin sighs, turning to jisung. “i can’t wait till i tier up. im getting tired of just transferring heavy boxes from one truck to another” he huffs.

“dude id rather be here then out with 2′s killing people everyday” jisung says, scrunching up his face. “plus.. usually ryujin comes and brings the district 5 girls to transfer locations to overlook everything. thats a win-win to me” jisung grins.

“district 5 girls?” jeongin asks.

jisung mouth drops open. “you’ve never met the district 5 girls? they’re so hot bro”.

jeongin shakes his head, continuing doing his job. “no i haven’t. but i know it’s in the rules that we shouldn’t-”

“hey boys”, yuna interrupts, a smirk evident in her voice.

jeongin turns to where the sound came from, dropping his box at the sight.

-

JISUNG

rookie

unexperienced, mysteriously recruited by chan himself

“why the fuck are there so much rules anyway? fuck the rules! aren’t we like the rebellious criminals of society?? what kind of cool badass criminal follows rules. rules are stupid. rules are pointle-”

“you do understand the serious circumstances you’re under to be here? all these rules are here to protect our circle. if you don’t want to follow the rules then fine. but that’s your fate, not mine or my families.” chan says with all seriousness.

jisung sighs.

“can you stop speaking so medieval? this is a MAFIA not ancient rome”.

“

[beyscape]

The Intern - 3

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Being Andy’s intern meant you got to spend more time by his side more than anyone. This was fine, however, until feelings got in the way and made things complicated

Word Count: 4114 (oh boy)

Warnings: SMUT, pure filth, age gap, technically cheating, swearing and all that jazz

A/N Contains spoilers from episodes 1-5.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

Getting the day off wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Neal was busting his ass trying to prove Jacob was guilty and he wasn’t particularly fond of you, you knew if it had been up to him you would be sent packing the day Andy was forced to leave. So, when you approached him to get the day off, you didn’t even need to use the ‘family emergency’ card. In his eyes, you were just a disposable intern who had spent too much time with Andy fucking barber for his liking. You pursed your lips, not wanting to think of work as you waited for Andy’s black car to pick you up.

You looked around the silent neighbourhood, your small backpack sitting on the pavement next your feet. First rays of sun were illuminating the whole street with a soft light, the early morning chill wiping the last bits of sleep from your eyes. In the one time you had a proper chance to see Andy that past week, you had decided to drive up to Connecticut early Friday morning, careful not to get caught. The plan was to visit Andy’s father in prison, then hang out together before driving back home under the cover of the night. You were busy kicking a small rock and keeping yourself entertained when you spotted Andy’s car turning the corner.

“Hi baby girl.” Andy gave you one of those smiles you so loved seeing on his face, but you could still see the shadows lingering in his eyes.

“Hi.” You leaned in to peck him on the lips. Before you could pull back and get comfortable on your seat however, Andy pulled you back in with a hand sneaking down to your waist, holding you tight. His hot lips never leaving yours, he ran a hand down your back, as if to soothe down the shivers that were also caused by him. He loosened his grip ever so slightly as he moved to look at your face, a grin plastered on his face.

“What?” You questioned, yet your face mirrored his.

“I really like you is all.” Andy faintly remembered the excitement of a new relationship from almost sixteen years ago, everything seemed different and shiny in those first moments, but there was something else he didn’t quite recognize in his heart too. Something that made him believe everything would be okay as long as he had you by his side, despite everything.

“How do you not know this song? It’s impossible you don’t know.” Andy shook his head with a small laugh of disbelief escaping his lips.

“Alright old man, I’m picking the next song.” You stuck your tongue out at him thinking he wouldn’t see it as he focused on driving, you were wrong. You yelped in surprise when Andy reached out and flicked your nose without even looking at you, the corners of his eyes crinkled with a rare, completely genuine smile.

It was so easy to laugh and forget about everything clouding over your heads as you drove further away from Newton, and ignoring the end of your destination, it was a much-needed change of pace.

“Let’s do this again sometime. I know it’s hard with how things are now, but in the future.” You watched the scenery roll by with occasional stolen glances at the man sitting next to you.

“Do what, baby girl?”

“Take a road trip. Leave Newton and our jobs, our labels for a while. Go someplace where you are not a married man and I’m not your intern.” You sighed.

“As you wish.” He looked at you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. “I know how much things suck right now, but I promise you, it will all end soon. We will get Jake off the hook; we’ll finally get the divorce that should’ve happened year ago and… We’ll be alright.” His right hand found yours over the console, gripping tightly.

“I trust you.” After a year of working together night and day, you knew that when Andy Barber made a promise, he made sure to keep his word. So, you knew, eventually, you would be alright.

After one stop to get some gas and morning snacks, your car rolled into the facility in the middle of the lush greenery. The closer Andy got to facing his father he had tried his whole life to distance himself from, he grew quiet. He would still give you small smiles with the corner of his mouth or engage in whatever conversation you started to help him relax, his joyful mood from earlier was gone.

“For Jake,” he had muttered more to himself than you, reminding himself why he couldn’t turn the car back around and drive as far as he could, away from the dreaded conversation. He placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before heading inside the building, in the manner of a silent thank you.

You were messing around with your phone maybe for fifteen minutes when Andy’s sulking figure made its way towards the car, he shook his head negatively when your eyes met, and that was all you needed to know your little mission had failed. You drove back the road you came in silence, the only sound being the low humming of the car engine.

“Fucking asshole.” Andy filled you in before digging into the burger sitting in front of him. It was a classic off the road diner, the kind frequented by the tired drivers at all kinds of odd hours.

“I can’t believe he refused. He sounds like a real piece of shit. Even without the whole murder thing, I mean.”

Andy snorted. “That’s one way to put it. We’ll simply have to skip it.”

“You know Neal will bring it up in trial and try to use it.” You reminded him, that was what you would do had the case been different.

“It’s bullshit.” You stuffed your face with the side of fries as you nodded in agreement. It was complete bullshit, and you could feel the frustration of a parent radiating from across you.

“Do you wanna spend the night here? I really don’t want to go back and deal with Lau- I mean, I don’t wanna deal with this tonight.” You looked up in surprise. Seeing right through him even with him trying to play it cool, it was obvious him and Laurie would get into another fight over this. Your heart sped up at the thought of spending the night together, away from all the things keeping you apart.

“I would like that very much.”  Your knees touched under the table, your gazes locked, both feeling the electric contact and not making any move to break it.

Twenty minutes of driving around was all it took before you stumbled on a small town, where you spent the rest of the afternoon together. Hand in hand, feeling more free than you had in weeks, you walked through the town. It was a great feeling, being able to be a couple out in the public without everyone knowing who you were and looking at you with judgement in their eyes. You looked at Andy, golden hair shining under the sun that peeked behind the clouds, and for a moment you were reminded of a time without his son’s future in the line. It was a selfish thought, but you didn’t want to go back. With his arm around you, holding you secure to his chest, you were content.

After a rather quick and clipped call to Laurie and an excuse of car trouble, you made your way towards the motel on the outskirts of the town. It wasn’t the best-looking motel, it was definitely not where Andy had originally wanted to bring you to, however it seemed to be only option. So, the two floored motel with its orange painting chipped at parts would have to do. That, sleeping in the car or worse, going back to Newton were your only choices, and you both were fast to agree on the first option.

 “A room for two, please.” Andy reached into the pocket of his dark coat to grab his wallet. Knowing the stubborn nature of his, you made no protest to pay although you weren’t too happy. The girl who didn’t look older than twenty looked up from behind the reception desk and eyed you up.

“Name?”

“Andy Barber.” She nodded, typing fast on the keyboard before reaching back for the wall of keys.

“Here you go, Mr. and Mrs. Barber. Room 204.” The girl turned back to her phone after sliding the key towards Andy.

“We-” You began, startled at the assumption although a part of you gushed at the name, but stopped at the shaking of Andy’s head. He couldn’t contain his laughter much more as he led you up to your room for the night, the sound was contagious. You noticed this was the first time he had laughed like that in what felt like a forever, you couldn’t help but join him.

The room was what you expected, the crème coloured walls almost looking yellow due to the lamps sitting on each side of the bed. The bed, occupying most of the small room was covered with pink and blue flower design bedding that looked like it was left there during the 80s.

“I’ll go wash up.” Andy muttered before heading into the bathroom, you dropped your backpack on the floor next to the night stand. You removed your coat, and then your sweatshirt, suddenly feeling too hot despite the room’s temperature being on the cool side. No, it wasn’t the weather itself, you mused as you eyed the bed, but rather the fact that for the first time, you had the whole night alone with Andy Barber. Not a stolen moment, afraid of getting caught. Here, you were just Y/N and Andy. You could do anything you wanted without a single worry on your minds. You gingerly sat on the bed, fiddling with the end of your tank top.

Andy stepped out of the bathroom a moment later, stopping right at the door upon seeing you. He eyed you up and down, so very slow you felt his gaze burn through you, a smirk spreading over his lips. You gulped quietly, but not breaking the stare.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, and two long strides later he was right in front of you. He placed a finger underneath your chin to tilt your head and make you look up to him.

“Maybe.” You drawled, the tips of your fingers tracing his thigh up and down.

 With a hiss Andy leaned down, his lips crashing onto yours in a way you never were kissed before. His large hands cupped your ass as he scooted you to the middle of the bed, not breaking the heated kiss. You moaned when your back met the surprisingly soft mattress but it was muffled with his warm lips never leaving yours, and Andy was on top of you in a matter of seconds. More and more and more was all you could think of, hands roaming on his broad back wildly in a desperate effort to pull him closer than he already was.

 You wanted to feel his skin under your hands, run them through his toned muscles and get rid of all the unnecessary layers between you, Andy knew what you wanted as you tugged the hem of his shirt.  You took in a deep breath when he pulled back only for a second to throw his shirt to a corner of the room, your eyes wandered on his abs and strong arms, he looked down at you with the same hunger in his eyes. You looped a finger around the waist of his jeans, tugging them down with hurried movements and fumbling hands, aching to have all of him. He chuckled at you before slipping his jeans off and sending them to accompany his shirt, now all that was left was his boxers and the silver necklace he always had on him. You bit your lips at the sight in front of you, gently running a hand down his length.

A breathy sound escaped Andy’s lips and they were back on yours, with a quick move Andy swapped your positions. Now, you leaned down to kiss him with your hands going down to unbutton your jeans, the need of getting closer and feel him against your skin almost driving you crazy. You followed suit and slid them off along with your tank top, left only in your lace bra and matching panties. Even though this night was quite spontaneous, you were secretly hoping for such a night and patted yourself on the back mentally for coming prepared.

“Shit, baby girl, you drive me crazy.” Andy ran a hand down the side of your body, stopping on your thighs. You shivered at his touch; Andy pulled you closer to his chest once again. Sitting on his lap, you shifted as you felt him press against you, rock hard. His hands were everywhere, exploring and marking his way as they ran through your hair, your back, the length of your legs… You couldn’t decide if this was pure torture or the best feeling in the world. Maybe a little bit of both.

You got up and lay on your back in the middle, pulling Andy in by the waistband of his boxers, almost begging to be pushed down. He supported himself above you on his elbows, leaving sloppy, wet and warm kisses down the trail of your neck.

“These,” he whispered against the warmth of your skin between kisses, “have to go.” In one swift moment your bra was gone. He placed a kiss to the curve of your breast, so close you felt his hot breath hit your nipples already hard with pleasure. You threw your head back with a whimper as his tongue teased and toyed with you, getting so close before wandering down your stomach.

With each kiss he went lower and lower, but never reaching the one place you wanted him the most. Before long you were a mess under him, with his tickling lips and wandering hands you prayed you would survive the night.

“Andy, please,” another whimper left you as lips connected with the inner parts of your soft thighs, dangerously close.

“That’s right baby girl, tell me what you need.” You felt his smirk on your skin.

“I need, I,” you sighed feeling his fingers toy with the band of your panties, “I need you.”

“Tell me how, and you have me sweetheart. I’m right here.”

“I need you in me, please, Andy,” You shut your eyes, unable to stop the curling of your toes as he ran a finger down your slit, still not making any move to remove the final layers between you. He enjoyed teasing you, seeing you moan and whimper completely begging for his touch was something he never knew how much he needed.

His rough hands finally tugged down the last piece of cloth covering you, leaving you utterly bare and under his control in front of him. Andy felt himself twitch, unable to keep teasing you as the urge to have you took over him.

You opened your eyes to see what he was doing, and the sight you met with almost made you gasp. There he was, fully naked; your eyes trailed down his pecks to his abs, and then to his cock. Standing proud and hard, you took in his length and girth with a hunger in your eyes.

“I need you. Now.” You reached your hand towards him, eager to pull him close and hopefully never let go.

“As you wish.” He lowered himself down, giving you a long kiss as a hand slipped between your legs. You shuddered at the tease of his hand, feeling him play with your clit send electric waves through your whole body. A finger slid in you, then another one, picking up the pace until Andy was satisfied with the wetness dripping down his hand. Placing a soft kiss on your knee he pushed them open, positioning himself before you. He ran his wet fingers down his shaft and his tip, lathering himself well.

Another soft moan escaped your lips as you felt his tip tease your entrance mercilessly, just wanting to feel Andy fill you already.

“Ready?” He asked, you found yourself unable to form words in that moment of euphoria so you just nodded.

Seeing you under him, already a mess for him, Andy swallowed. He took one moment to look you up and down, wanting to burn this moment well into his memory and never forget it. In that moment, he was overcome with such desire, such passion that with a grunt he pushed himself in. Any small thought of protection flew from his mind upon that feeling, leaving no trace behind as all he could think was how good it felt to be in you.

“Fuck.” He moaned and pushed a little bit more inside you. A part of him wanted to fuck you senseless then and there, but the less animalistic and more caring part of him scanned your face for any sign of discomfort. It was a tight fit already and Andy feared hurting you, damn the passion blinding him.

“I’m good,” you breathed out, noticing his peering gaze. You ran a hand down his thigh. “More.”

Andy happily obliged, slowly pushing all of his length in with a grunt deep in his throat.

“You feel so fucking good. Such a good girl you are, Y/N.” He lowered his body down on his elbows to give you a kiss. You felt his tongue push in, penetrating and filling your mouth just as you felt his cock pulse in you. He pulled back ever so slightly, pushing a strand of hair fallen on your forehead.

He started moving slowly at first, allowing you get comfortable with him. Even though you claimed you were okay, Andy planned on using the precious alone time you had as well as he could, so your comfort was of upmost importance for him to execute his plans.

Andy picked up his pace, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into you, each time sending waves of pleasure crash through you as your moans synchronized with his moves. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper as the wet sound and your whimpers mixed with his grunts and the occasional ‘fuck’ that slipped between his lips and onto your skin. Your nails left hot red marks down his back, sending Andy into a whole new level of frenzy.

You couldn’t resist the orgasm threatening to rock through you any longer, you gave in to the feeling as you arched your back, all kinds of incoherent sounds and words glided out of your lips. Feeling you tighten around him and the sweet sounds you made underneath him made Andy shiver as he slammed into you time and time, the rocking of hips becoming sloppier and rougher with each time.

One of your hands pulled at his hair, the other wrapped tightly around his shoulder, your body shook to his rhythm. His trail of wet kisses down your breasts and the teasing tongue left you purring against him, never wanting this night to come to a stop.

Andy swore under his breath as he pulled out, you drew inhaled sharply at the sudden emptiness, disappointed and needing much more of him. He gave you a look as if to say ‘I know’ before pulling you up and on top of him as he now lay in the position you were in mere seconds ago. You purred against him, peppering kisses on his face, your fingers playing with his tip.

“How does it feel to be teased, Mr. Barber?” Your hand gripped one of his balls, satisfied with the moan you got in response.

“Fuck, ride me, baby girl, come on.” He swallowed once. Twice.

  You positioned yourself, hoovering just above his tip, originally wanting to tease him longer but couldn’t resist the urge to lower yourself down and feel him fill you up once more. Slowly you guided yourself down on his shaft, mouth open as you did so, Andy’s hands cupping your ass and helping you.

Soon you were fucking yourself on him, Andy’s fingers gripping you so tightly you were sure it would leave a mark. You didn’t care.

The downright sinful sounds coming from Andy fueled you to pick up your pace, chasing your orgasm. The eagerness of making Andy cum and please him like the good girl he called you was a close second in terms of motivation.

“Are you tired, huh?” Andy managed to let out, grabbing your ass to push you up and down on him. He pulled you under, kneeling as he kept pushing in and out with his hands holding your knees.

“Shit sweetheart.” His sigh echoed as stars began flying in front of your eyes, hot white pleasure claiming you for the second time, you winced when Andy pulled out sharply, stroking himself and shuddering as he finally reached his own release, white thick ropes of cum splattering on your breasts and stomach.

He looked at you with sparks in his eyes, a dumb grin on his handsome face, you chuckled at his expression. A gentle hand reached out, caressing your cheek with a look full of adoration. No words were needed as you hastily cleaned up yourselves, wanting to go back to one another’s arms without any more delays. You had waited long enough.

You lay your head on his chest as a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, his second hand running through your hair with soft strokes. Your hand lay on his chest too, right above his heart, a tired smile danced on your face as you felt the steady beat of his heart.

Andy looked down slightly at your face, at the happiness he could so easily read, and felt his heart tug with emotion. You were here, in his arms, and he felt so damn lucky.

His.

Andy smiled.

When was the last time he allowed himself to be this happy? Sure, he was happy when he won a case, though it always was shadowed because of the long and exhausting hours he pulled. He was happy at his home, with his family, but the problems of his marriage ran deep and even though he loved Jake with all of his heart, he couldn’t deny the fact that sometimes he dreaded to go home. But now, here, in this moment his heart swell with pure joy and affection towards the young woman he held in his arms. He couldn’t believe it. He used to think maybe he had done something to piss universe off. That’s why things never fully looked up for him.

Maybe the universe wasn’t so bad after all.

“Thank you.” He muttered in a quiet voice, his fingers drawing shapes on your arm.

“For what?” You raised your head slightly to face him. You caught your breath at the sudden closeness, and the way his eyes looked like deep pools of blue you wanted to dive in.

“For everything. For being by my side, I guess. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

“If it’s anything like how I feel for you, I think I have some idea.” You leaned in to share a slow kiss, unlike those of passion some time ago, this one stirred the deepest of emotions within you. A promise, it was.

You talked of all kinds of things in that embrace, with hushed voices not caused by fear or getting caught, but caused by the level of intimacy. In that moment, where limbs were entangled and pressed together under the god-awful floral print you both laughed about, you didn’t even need words.

You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep with your head still resting on Andy’s chest, but you knew when you woke up. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the dark room, head snapping towards Andy upon the sound hitting your ears. It was faint, sounded like muttering and whimpering, you searched the face of the man laying beside you when it hit you: he was having a nightmare.

“Hey, Andy,” you called out his name softly, “come on, love.” You coaxed him out of sleep, gently running a hand through his hair in the hopes of calming him down. His eyes snapped open with a small gasp, eyes looking around in fear for a split second.

“It’s me,” you got his attention, hard breathing of his chest calming down with your touch, “I got you.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. You pulled him close this time, resting his head on your chest as you hugged him, dropping kisses on his head, along his hairline, on the creases that made home above his eyebrows. Just as you thought Andy was back asleep because of his steady breath, he spoke.

“It’s my father.” Was all he needed to say, and you understood him, understood how hard it was for him to open up about the very thing he escaped from confronting his whole life.

“I know, sweetheart. I got you.” You muttered again and again, determined to make him believe and know that you meant what you said. His arms tightened around your waist as you closed your eyes, hand still combing through his soft hair. Neither asleep, you laid there until the first streaks of sun began to invade the room, reminding you both the dreaded car drive back to Newton was closer than you liked. You pushed that thought to the furthest corner of your mind as you turned your focus on the man between your arms, and let sleep wash over you like a cold blanket.

------------------------

5 a.m on the dot as I post this, whew! I’m incredibly rusty in smut writing, so help me practice and send some requests, huh? My inbox is open for requests, feedback and all kinds of asks!

[joonie-beanie]

Brownies

Pairing: Beel x Bean ( + Lucifer )

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Words: 4,938

So, I decided to write this based off this post I made the other day about Beel and Bean.

It seemed like a lot of people were torn between wanting just Bean x Beel, and Lucifer x Bean x Beel, so :’) maybe I wrote two different endings? Just maybe.

Read to the end and find out ;o

Bean has a sweet tooth, and she’s been trying to stave it. 

However, Satan had stopped by her room earlier that evening to ask if she had any grocery requests, and despite herself, she’d told him a box of brownie mix.

Now, hours later, she’s acutely aware of the fact that somewhere down in the kitchen is a brownie mix—waiting for her. And if she doesn’t bake them sooner, rather than later, it’s likely one of the brothers will find the brownies and devour them before she can get the chance. 

Mainly Beel.

Now don’t get her wrong, she adores the Avatar of Gluttony, but she wants to be able to eat and/or hide a portion of the dessert before he discovers the rest.

So, at the ripe hour of 12AM, Bean rolls out of bed and makes her way to the kitchen. It’s a school night, and she feels she’ll be fine baking so late in the evening. It’s likely that most of the brothers are already asleep, or are settling into bed, and within an hour, she’ll have eaten her sweet snack, wrapped a few up for later, and will be back in the comfort of her room.

Personally, she feels her plan is foolproof. Even if she’s cooking so late, she’ll still manage to get a good seven hours of sleep, so long as nothing goes wrong.

And really...the only thing that could go wrong would be Beel managing to smell the brownies from the other end of the house but...that won’t happen, right? Not if he’s asleep…

Already feeling quite tired herself, Bean yawns as she steps into the kitchen—quickly forgetting about any of her worries.

She turns on the oven to preheat it, and then rummages around in the cupboards until she finds the box of brownie mix. Satan had been careful to stick it in the way back—behind a few tall bags of chips, and Bean can’t help but laugh as she unburies it.

She’ll have to thank Satan later. Maybe she’ll give him a brownie tomorrow.

As quietly as she can manage, Bean locates a mixing bowl, and a baking pan. She mixes the wet and dry ingredients together, and then scoops them into the pan—very purposely leaving behind a few spoonfuls worth of the chocolatey batter. (Honestly, she would just eat the bowl of batter if she could).

Soon enough, the oven is heated to the correct temperature, and she places the soon-to-be pan of brownies inside. Then, before she forgets, she picks up her DDD and sets a timer—leaving it a few minutes short of the recommended time (because let’s be honest, fudgy brownies are the best).

Once that’s taken care of, Bean grabs the mixing bowl and leans back against the kitchen island. Using the spatula, she scoops out small amounts of the remaining batter—tasting the sweetness on her tongue as she savors it for as long as she can.

She can feel the warmth from the oven reaching into the room—warming the skin on her legs. She has a habit of wearing the same thing to bed every night: an oversized t-shirt, and a pair of fitted shorts.

At first, she’d been quite conscious of her nightwear—afraid of showing the brothers too much leg—too much of her squishy thighs. But now, after months of living with them, she no longer worries. She feels comfortable around them all, and has been reassured more than once that she doesn’t need to change her habits just for them. (And besides, they secretly enjoy shows of skin from her).

Lost in her thoughts—eyelids drooping tiredly—Bean mindlessly continues to eat the brownie batter. The house is calm around her, and she basks in the silence. However, just as she’s scooping up the last of the batter—the sweet smell of brownies beginning to waft from the oven—Bean hears the incoming sound of footfalls. 

She pauses with the spatula just inches from her lips—blue eyes shifting to look at the doorway as a figure appears. Her heart thumps loudly within her chest when she realizes it’s Beel. 

He’s standing there in only a flannel pair of pajama pants—the remnants of sleep clear on his face as he sniffs the air.

Clearly, Bean had underestimated Beel’s sense of smell. Even from the other end of the house, and while asleep, he’d managed to tell that someone was cooking.

Finally, Beel finds Bean, and his eyes quickly shift to look at the mixing bowl beside her, and the spatula full of batter that’s held in front of her lips. He takes a step forward—intent on devouring what’s left of the mixture—but Bean moves quickly.

She shoves the spatula into her mouth, smiling a little as Beel finally reaches her and picks up the bowl. When he realizes it’s empty, his brows furrow—upset that she hadn’t shared. However—

He turns to look at the stove. The pan of brownies inside is less than half way cooked, and yet, he looks ready to down the entire dessert. Bean notices where he’s staring, and quickly reaches out—grabbing his wrists. 

“Beel, no, c’mon” she says, feeling a little guilty when his upset eyes shift to look at her. He tugs his arms from her grasp, and her heart aches—not used to seeing him look so upset. She hopes it’s just the grogginess that’s making him appear mad, and that he’s not actually mad at her.

“I’m sorry. When they’re finished, you can definitely have—”

Her words cut off as Beel grabs her face—tugging her into a bruising kiss. His tongue shoves into her mouth, her gasp of shock lost against him as he explores her—gathering all the sweetness she has to offer. He can taste the brownie batter on her tongue.

“Mmm…”

Sliding one of his large hands to cradle the back of her head, his now free arm wraps around her waist—tugging her flush against him. The new proximity and angle allows Beel to press even deeper, and he doesn’t hear the way Bean whimpers—her hands raising to press against his bare chest.

His kisses are messy and relentless—full of tongue and teeth—and Bean is helpless in the face of his undying hunger. 

She can feel the heat radiating off her own face, and the arousal that has begun to pool between her legs. Even if she knows Beel is only acting like this because of his bottomless appetite, she can’t help being turned on by his current actions. He’s quite literally stealing her breath away.

In fact, she may pass out soon if he doesn’t allow her to breathe.

Whining, she presses harder against him, but he doesn’t budge. She tries again, and again—making more sounds, and louder. Her fingernails curl into the tanned skin of his chest, and the inkling of pain finally brings him back into reality.

With a trail of spit connecting them—Beel pulls back. 

His grip on her lingers, his violet eyes searching her face as her chest heaves. Every inch of her skin is flushed—her eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It quickly becomes obvious to the Avatar of Gluttony that despite his innocent intentions, he’d managed to get Bean extremely turned on.

The realization makes him hard.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, thumb soothing over the back of her skull. His gaze softens, although the underlying hunger remains. However, now he’s hungrier for something else. A different sort of midnight snack.

Bean shakes her head, reaching up to cradle his face.

“No—no, Beel, you’re fine, I just,” she laughs breathily, smiling at him. “I needed to breathe, that’s all. I didn’t mind the kiss…”

Beel gives her waist a squeeze—rocking his body forward ever so slightly—and she can feel his growing hard-on against her stomach. 

“I didn’t mean to get hard,” he admits, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “But...I couldn’t help it, seeing your face.”

Bean understands the meaning behind his words—an unspoken question of “can we keep going?”. And, of course, she wants to keep going. She can’t stop now, when she’s already feeling wetness gather between her thighs

Pressing onto her tiptoes, she kisses Beel softly. It’s a complete 180 from their previous bout of kisses, but neither of them mind, and things don’t stay so gentle for long. 

Grabbing her by her waist, Beel hefts Bean up onto the kitchen island—stepping in between her spread legs. With each passing second, their kisses turn more wanton. Their mouths slot together—Beel’s fingers moving to grip the soft flesh of her hips, and he finds that he has a sudden appreciation for the height of the counter—his pelvis perfectly aligned with her clothed pussy. 

With little effort, he begins grinding Bean’s body against his own—his quickly growing erection tenting against his pajama pants as he slides himself against the damp fabric of her shorts. And Bean can only watch in anticipation—leaned back on her palms to steady herself. 

The size of Beel’s body, and his cock, never fail to make her feel small. And she loves it—arousal snaking through every inch of her body.

“Beel…,” she whines, biting her lip when he moves one of his hands between her legs. Two of his digits sneak beneath the crotch of her shorts—gathering up her wetness, and slipping between her tight walls. 

He pumps his fingers into her a few times, testing the waters, and making sure he won’t hurt her. He knows by now that Bean doesn’t mind the stretch of him—doesn’t mind if a little pain is involved—but he still has a habit of warming her up.

“Beel,” she whines again, louder. She grinds her hips against his fingers, letting him know she can take more. She doesn’t need any prep. She’s already so wet, and doesn’t want to wait any longer to take him.

However, Beel still doesn’t budge—too concerned with making sure she won’t get hurt. Bean sighs.

Sitting up, she reaches forward and wrestles her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. Her fingers curl around his length—his girth too much for her small hand to wrap around—but that doesn’t stop her from stroking him.

The sensation makes him groan, the muscles in his torso flexing as she pumps her hand up and down his shaft. Bean smiles at his reaction.

“Hey,” she says softly. “You won’t hurt me. Please, I want you.”

Finally reassured by her words, Beel gives in. He leans down and kisses her—his hands tugging his pants down his thighs as their mouths meld. He then makes quick work of her shorts—his fingers curling around her waistband, and scooting them down her legs. 

Before long, her bottoms are abandoned on the kitchen floor—Beel gripping his cock and rubbing his tip between her slick folds. Bean bites her lip as she watches him, body shivering in excitement when she feels the first few inches of his length press into her.

The stretch is delicious, and Bean can’t help groaning. She leans back onto her forearms, bottom lip catching between her teeth as she watches Beel disappear inside of her—inch by inch. He works himself between her walls slowly, and yet, it doesn’t take long for him to completely fill her—her pussy twitching around his girth—adjusting to the snug fit.

“Fuck,” she breathes. Bean’s legs wrap around him, and Beel begins rocking into her—his hungry eyes locked on the space between their bodies. The strong smell of brownies has begun to permeate the room, and combined with the natural sweet scent of Bean, the Avatar of Gluttony feels like he may go crazy from hunger.

“Mmm,” leaning down, Beel kisses her—smothering her cute little sounds with his lips as he begins thrusting faster. And her pussy takes him so beautifully, like always—making him fall apart at the seams. 

Once the kiss is broken—the two mutually parting for air—Beel settles his mouth against her neck. He assaults the sensitive skin with his tongue and teeth, and the lewd noise she makes in response has his cock throbbing.

Despite his impressive stamina, Beel quickly feels himself inching towards his release. 

He can’t help it—not with all the heavenly smells around him, and the way Bean is reacting to his ministrations.

“Bean,” he pants. He continues fucking between her walls—sinful, wet noises filling the room with each poignant trust. And honestly, Bean isn’t very far behind. It’s likely a combination of her tired brain, Beel’s breath stealing kisses, and his delicious girth that has managed to get her so close, so fast.

Oh, and his mouth on her neck isn’t helping either—her pussy getting wetter with each pass of his lips or tongue over her skin.

“Beel—,” she starts, but at that moment, her DDD goes off. The timer she’d pre-set runs to zero, letting her know that the brownies need to come out of the oven. Bean groans.

Reaching up, she hugs her arms tightly around Beel’s broad torso—pressing a soft kiss to his chest. 

“Cum,” she says.

She knows he’s closer than she is—can sense it in the desperation of his thrusts. Can feel it in the way his muscles tense beneath her hands.

“But—,” he grits his jaw, his hands finding her waist and holding her tightly. He so very much wants to give in and listen to her, but he doesn’t feel right cumming without her. And he knows that’s her plan—to let him cum, and sacrifice her own orgasm so she can go and tend to the brownies.

He frowns, giving her a squeeze. Bean peppers more kisses against his hot skin.

“It’s okay,” she tells him. Purposely, she clenches her pussy around his cock, and his breath catches.

“Please, I want you to.”

Helpless to obey her, Beel thrusts inside of her a few more times before stuffing her to the brim with his length. His seed messily paints her sopping walls—Beel’s quick breaths fanning against her hair as he reaches his high.

“Good?” she whispers, reaching over to snatch her phone off the counter. The timer is still buzzing—two minutes past the set time. 

Beel grunts, nuzzling his head against her neck and making her giggle. She pets his soft orange hair.

“Are you okay to move? I should get the brownies before they overcook.”

The demon nods, sitting up, and grabbing her waist. His brows knit together—his eyes once again focusing on the space where their bodies meet. He takes a few seconds to remove himself, and Bean flushes in embarrassment when she feels some of his seed slip out of her the moment his cock finally leaves her pussy.

“C’mere,” she says, scooting forward. She guides him into a soft kiss, lingering for a few seconds, before she hops down from the counter—Beel’s hands quickly finding her waist when she wobbles a little on her feet.

Despite not having cum, her legs are still weak. It’s just...a general side effect of love making with Beel.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, face still quite red, and then moves to the stove. Beel watches her as she opens the oven door, grabbing a nearby towel and using it to remove the pan from inside.

As she bends over, Beel gets an eyeful of her backside—peeking out from beneath the hem of her oversized t-shirt. He can see the slick arousal that still coats her pussy, and he swallows. Hunger gnaws at his stomach.

At the same time, a bit of guilt pokes at his heart.

He wants to make her cum too. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving her unfulfilled

“We should let them cool for a while before we try to eat them,” Bean speaks, setting the brownies on the stovetop. “Otherwise, they’ll just fall apart.”

“But I’m hungry,” Beel whines, hand resting atop his stomach. Bean breathes a laugh, staring at him fondly. She makes her way back to his side, intending to hug him, but it’s obvious Beel has other ideas.

He steps past her—one of his hands finding the small of her back he guides her against the kitchen island once more. However, this time he positions her face down—her chest pressed against the warm surface.

She shivers when she feels him hike her shirt up around her waist, his thumbs pulling at the folds of her pussy and spreading her open.

“Beel??”

“You’ll be my pre-brownie snack,” he mumbles, getting onto his knees. Bean whines as he flattens his tongue against her—gathering up both own his seed and her arousal on his taste buds.

“After all, you need to cum too.”

“B-Beel, it’s fine—,” she tries to argue, flustered by the feel of his mouth on her pussy. This isn’t the first time he’s given her oral—far from it—but it never fails to fluster her.

Grunting, Beel ignores her words, solely focusing on the meal before him.

Kneeling behind her, he grips her ass tightly—adjusting her position ever so slightly as he finds the best angle to eat her. And Bean is already a blushing mess, her fingers gripping onto the edge of the counter as Beel begins running his tongue between her folds.

Despite the fact that her previously impending release has begun to fade away—the coil in her gut is quickly winding once again. And when Beel suctions his lips around her clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves, Bean can’t help the cry that leaves her.

The sound only spurs him on, and Beel continues relentlessly. His hands squeeze her soft flesh, coaxing her to spread her legs wider, and Bean’s thighs shake. Panting, she rests her check against the wooden surface of the island—face mindlessly turned towards the kitchen doorway. 

[BeelBean ending] ↓

“Beel,” she begs, the demon's tongue pressing inside of her. Beel groans in response, using his hold to grind her down onto his face—allowing his tongue to venture even deeper. Bean’s entire body writhes, her chest heaving as her pleasure builds.

“Clit, please,” she reaches back and curls her fingers into Beel’s hair, hoping to guide him where she needs his mouth to be. Luckily, knowing that he has another snack waiting for him, Beel doesn’t have an issue giving into her request. 

He shifts his mouth back down to her clit, flicking his tongue against the bud, and giving it all of the attention it craves. His actions have Bean positively melting, her legs weak as she stands there, body bent over the counter. 

“Fuck, Beel—,” she pushes onto her tiptoes and curves her spine, adjusting the angle of her hips as Beel works at her. The slight change in position does wonders—lewd gasps and whines falling from Bean’s lips. 

It doesn’t take long after that for her legs to give out, but Beel is more than strong enough to support her.

Using his grip on her ass and thighs, Beel holds her steady—his mouth working at her clit until she’s coming undone with a cry of his name. And Beel groans happily at the feeling of her muscles flexing against him—his tongue continuing to lap at her until she’s gone slack in his hold, completely spent.

But even then, Beel continues to languidly drag his tongue between her folds—gathering her arousal on his taste buds. He only stops when Bean gives his hair a small tug, whining and reminding him of the brownies that are now cool enough to eat.

Finally, he relents. But not without pressing a few soft kisses to her thighs.

“Love you,” he mumbles, standing up and wrapping his arms around her. He hugs her tightly from behind, nuzzling his head against her, and Bean laughs.

“I love you too, Beel.”

With both of them fully satisfied (at least in a sexual sense), the two redress themselves and address the cooled pan of brownies.

As Bean cuts the dessert into tiny squares, Beel is practically drooling over her shoulder. The only thing keeping him from snatching the whole pan and devouring them is the fact that it would upset Bean, so instead he stands behind her with his hands on her waist—fingers squeezing her impatiently.

Once the brownies have been cut, Bean takes a few for herself, puts one aside to give Satan tomorrow, and then gives Beel the rest of the pan. Immediately his face is glowing.

By the time Bean has eaten her one brownie for the night, the remainder of the pan is gone—all of the chocolatey dessert now inside of Beel’s tummy. 

“Did that hit the spot?” she asks, placing the dirty pan into the kitchen sink. Beel nods happily, a smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, thank you for sharing.”

“Of course,” she responds, grabbing her goody bag from the counter. The two walk out of the kitchen together, and when they arrive at the door to Bean’s room, Beel immediately looks shy.

Bean rolls her eyes fondly, grabbing his wrist.

“You can stay, if you want.”

She knows by now that Beel is big on staying nearby after sex—wanting to make sure that she’s alright. (Also, he just really likes cuddling).

Nodding at her offer, Beel steps inside her room, and they settle into her bed. 

It’s not long before the two are out like a light—Beans arms wrapped around Beel in a tight hug as she uses his chest as a pillow.

[BeelBean + Luci ending] ↓

Her heart nearly stops when she finds that the doorway is not empty, but in fact occupied.

Lucifer is standing there, eyebrows raised high on his forehead, and empty teacup in his grasp. She can only assume that he’s working late, and had come to fetch himself another drink.

But now here he is, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her get eaten out by a hungry Beel as her pan of brownies cool just feet away. 

Holy shit.

Bean feels the way all the blood in her body rushes to her face, and she reaches a hand back—fingers curling into Beel’s orange hair.

“Beel—,” she attempts to let the demon know that they’re no longer alone, but the Avatar of Gluttony doesn’t notice the urgency in her tone. He does feel the tug of her fingers in his hair, however, and assumes from the action that she wants more.

So, he moves his mouth down a bit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves that he has yet to address.

Of course, he decides to suck on her clit just as she opens her mouth to try and get his attention once more.

“Beel, wait, Lu-cifer,” her voice hitches, the last few syllables of Lucifer’s name coming out in a high-pitched gasp. Her eyelashes flutter, eyes threatening to roll back into her skull as Beel continues lapping away at her most sensitive area. And the entire time, Lucifer posed in the doorway, watching it unfold.

The obvious embarrassment showing on her face has him grinning. The sadistic part of him loves seeing her so flustered, even if he’s not the one doing the dirty acts to make her that way.

“Am I interrupting?” he finally speaks, catching his brother’s attention.

Managing to tear himself away from his current meal, Beel sits back and turns to stare at Lucifer. He looks a little guilty when he realizes they’ve been discovered. Beel has no issue with what he’s doing to Bean, but he does feel a little sorry for doing it in a public space, where just anyone could walk in.

Like now.

“I…,” Bean brushes a few stray hairs from in front of her eyes. “I’m making brownies…”

“I see,” Lucifer responds, chuckling. He steps inside the room, making his way to the stove. He grabs the tea kettle and puts it one of the burners, igniting a fire beneath it.

“I’ll only be a few moments. Don’t stop on my account.”

Beel glances at his brother, wondering if it truly is okay to keep going, and Lucifer dips his head. Without hesitating, Beel gets back to work.

Bean gasps as his tongue returns between her folds, resuming its hungry motions against her. The action is unexpected, and immediately she’s whining, trying to convince the Avatar of Gluttony that they shouldn’t continue while Lucifer is present. However—

“There’s no need for you to stop just because of me.”

Bean glances up, finding Lucifer as he makes his way to the other side of the kitchen island. Still grinning, he reaches out—his fingers skimming her cheek, and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“From the looks of it, you’re already quite close, June.”

At that moment, Beel sucks on her clit particularly hard, and Bean’s entire body writhes. Her chest heaves, wanton pants falling from her lips, and Lucifer quietly soaks in the sight.

“Isn’t that right?”

Lucifer grips her chin, angling her head up as he leans down—sealing their lips. She moans against him, the Avatar of Pride devouring all of her precious little sounds as he kisses her. At the same time, Beel continues running his tongue against her, and with every passing second she comes more undone. 

“Make her cum, Beel,” Lucifer speaks after a moment, his crimson eyes watching Bean as she shakes—oh-so-close to her release. And Beel listens to his brother’s instruction without any issue. 

The Avatar of Gluttony suctions his mouth against her clit, tongue flicking against the sensitive bud in a steady rhythm, and Beans lips part in a moan. Her eyelashes flutter, muscles tensing, and her blown-out gaze falls on Lucifer.

He can see the silent question in her eyes, and it makes him chuckle. 

“Go on,” he whispers, kissing her once more, and within seconds Bean is coming undone. Her cry of pleasure is lost around Lucifer’s tongue, and Beel steadies her legs as her knees give out—overwhelmed by the strength of her orgasm. However, he doesn’t pull away just yet.

No, he continues lapping at her pussy until she’s quietly begging for him to stop. Her fingers pet through his hair, coaxing him away as the tea kettle on the stove starts to squeal. 

Quickly, Lucifer makes his way over and turns off the burner—hoping not to wake his brother with the high-pitched noise. 

He observes Bean and Beel as the two collect themselves, exchanging shows of affection and checking on each other—making sure that everything is alright. And by the time they’re both redressed, and moving to cut into the cooled pan of brownies, Lucifer has already fixed himself another cup of tea.

“Do you mind if I keep her for the night?” Lucifer asks, glancing at his brother. Beel blinks, looking down at Bean. A frown tugs at his lips, his hands moving to grip Bean’s waist, and Bean turns to smile at him.

“Why don’t you give us a few minutes?” she suggests, soft eyes glancing to Lucifer. The older brother nods, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to her temple before he turns and leaves the kitchen. 

A short while later, he hears a knock on his bedroom door, and Bean appears. There’s a plate of wrapped brownies in her grasp.

“I see you managed to save a few,” he comments. Bean breathes a laugh, setting the plate on his coffee table beside the documents he’s currently reading over as she settles in beside him. 

Yawning, she leans over and rests her head on his shoulder. He immediately turns and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“You can have one, if you want,” she says. “I saved one for you and Satan.”

“Why Satan?”

“He bought me the mix.”

“And why me?”

Her eyes turn up to him, blinking innocently.

“Because I like you.”

He chuckles. 

“Thank you. I didn’t upset Beel by stealing you away, did I?”

Bean shakes her head. “No, he just likes being close after...sex, so he wanted to stay together a little longer. That’s all.”

“Hmm, I see. And did you enjoy yourself?”

Bean blushes, glancing away. “Well, you almost gave me a full-blown heart attack when I saw you standing there, but otherwise it was enjoyable, yes. How long were you there, anyway?”

“Just a few seconds,” he chuckles, his crimson gaze full of mirth as his gaze shifts to her. “Your reaction once spotting me was more than I could have hoped for.”

She pouts her lips at his teasing remarks, sending him a glare with no real anger behind it.

Pressing to her feet, she leaves the plate of brownies abandoned on his table, and throws herself into his bed. Within seconds, she snuggles herself beneath the soft sheets.

“Come sleep,” she commands. Lucifer’s lips quirk.

“I’ll be there shortly, I promise.”

And true to his word, a few minutes later, the bed dip as Lucifer settles in beside her. His arm drapes over her waist, and Bean can feel the warmth radiating off of Lucifer’s bare chest.

“Good night, Lucifer,” she mumbles, already half asleep. Lucifer presses a kiss to her hair, letting his own eyes fall shut.

“Good night, my love.”

And if his hand had been over her chest, he would have felt her heart skip a beat.

[epic-potato-crisp]

Courtship - Part 3 (AjinWeek21/1)

Notes: So I decided to continue this for Ajin Week 2021! (although I was torn between making this a Sato fic cause you know. Hat.)

Day 1: Favorite character / summer break/ hat

Favourite character: Both Kei and Kou are among my favourite characters, Kei especially is one of my favourite protagonists of all time, and summer break, because this place during the sweltering time that is training camp. (fun! :D)

————————-

“Really?” Kei asks with growing annoyance as the vampire movie plays out on the screen in front of them. “Really?!”

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen that!” Kou defends himself, depositing the bowl of chips into Kei’s lap so his hands are free to adjust the volume.

“This is not what I had in mind when I agreed to…well, dating you.” Kei says, lowering his volume at the last three words that seem a little too foreign too pronounce.

“Why not?” Kou replies, “Movie nights are a super normal thing to do, not even for a date-“ He in comparison, has zero trouble adequately naming their current situation – “or with friends!” He smirked, which could never mean anything good: “Which you’d know, if you had any-“ Kou winces as Kei’s elbow rams into his side.

“I did have friends.” Kei grumbles through his teeth, stretching out his feet over the old and battered, but still quite comfortable couch. This is, surprisingly, afar more relaxing activity than he had initially anticipated.

Even if the movie is grating on his nerves.

“Why is everyone trying to befriend her?” he asks, exasperatedly. Bella Swan had made it perfectly clear that she was not interested in socializing from the moment she had arrived in her father’s rainy suburban town. And yet, in the first half an hour, not only had her childhood best friend shown up, she’d also been introduced to numerous classmates and faculty, and on top of that, was subtly encouraged to take a glance at a family of – vampire’s, that was his most likely prediction based on what he’d heard of the plot.

“Well, she’s new and people wanna get to know her. Nothing wrong with that.” Kou said diplomatically.

“Ugh.” Kei groans, and takes a sip of his coke. Eriko had always tried to make him watch these movies, which, if he was correct, were five in number, because apparently it was no enough to have a fourth movie. No, it had two be dragged out across two volumes. So far, he had been able to avoid it. Until training camp.

“Which you’d know, if you’d had-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Kei snaps, and the mood sours for a moment.

“Right, right, I’m sorry.” Kou says, after a beat of silence, and then his hand reaches over to grasp Kei’s.

“Is that really necessary?” Kei mutters, feeling his cheeks heat up. He prays that the darkness of the room, only lit up faintly by the TV, serves as enough cover.

“Well, it’s a date, right?”

“Stop saying that all the time.”

“Date. Date. Daaate.” Kou sing-songs, grinning at Kei knowingly.

The latter glowers: “Are you in elementary school?”

Kou laughs. He still doesn’t let go of Kei’s hand.

Kei feels his heartbeat quicken, ever so slightly, nervousness manifesting in the pit of his stomach. He chalks it up to the unfamiliar situation. After all, he really doesn’t know whether the movie will provide suitable entertainment for the next one and a half hours. There is no way it has anything to do with Kou.

At least, it shouldn’t.

“If you could choose between being a vampire and an Ajin, what would you pick?” Kou asks, out of the blue.

The movie had ended just a little while ago, a pointless two hours and six minutes of a supernatural romance that Kei couldn’t care less for. It was a little past ten, and they were not finished for a long while, apparently, if the cover for the second movie, blinking traitorously in Izumi’s streaming library, was anything to go by.

“Not this again.” Kei sighs, “Do you spend all day on these unlikely scenarios?”

“It’s that not unlikely.” Kou argues, “Come on, a few years back, you didn’t even know Ajin existed! And now you’re one!”

“Of course I knew they existed. It’s part of the school curriculum.” Kei deadpans, this particular lesson still rather unsettlingly fresh in his memory.

“Which you’d know if you’d gone to school.” He adds, acidly.

“Wow, harsh.” Kou pouts, “I did go. I just…dropped out. There’s a difference. Everyone knows that.” He mumbles.

“Keep telling yourself that” is on the tip of Kei’s tongue, but he swallows it down, if only to retain the peace. And perhaps because he would feel the tiniest bit guilty further prodding at that sore spot.

But school is something he does not want to think about for a good while again. The memory brings only pain. Betrayal from his classmates, from teachers, a jealousy- one that Kou would never be able to comprehend - on missing out on education that is a given for his former classmates.. A High School degree that he will never receive, if the government has any say in it, after all the years and effort, the hours of studying and revising he has put into it. A bleak future with all paths to prestigious medical universities blocked irreversibly. His only crime had been crossing that road that day. If only I could be reborn, Kei thinks miserably, then I could get a new chance. chance. He is in dire need of a new identity. Perhaps he can later guilt Tosaki into creating one for him.

“So circling back to the topic at hand, vampires.” he says, reluctantly.

“Heck yeah.” Kou agrees, excitedly, “So?”

“There are pros and cons on both sides.” Kei shrugs, “If you were a vampire, you wouldn’t be able to age and have a career, build a reputation. You’d have to get a new identity every few years. That sounds like a hassle. And don’t get me started on the…blood lust.”

The vampires and even humans in the movie had looked hungry in a completely different way whenever that topic came up. As though sucking your body’s circulatory system dry was desirable under any circumstance. Kei shuddered at the thought.

“You mean, you wouldn’t be able to build a family, live out your life with your friends, that kinda stuff?” Kou asks.

“I was referring to the important things, but I suppose.” Kei says loftily.

“Yeah, well, you’re wrong about that. Even vampires enjoy having relationships.” Kou argued.

“Debatable.”

“Bella seems pretty happy with the Edward guy.” his teammate emphasizes, “No matter if he’s a vampire or not.”

“But it is going to be a problem in the future.” Kei argues, “Honestly, she should have just stayed with Jacob and been done with it. It’s a suitable match, why put in any extra effort? She’s just going to grow old while he stays young forever.”

“Figures you’d go with the childhood best friend.” Kou mutters, flicking crumbs of his trousers.

“What?”

But Kou – strangely, for once in his life- doesn’t seem to haven an emergent need to elaborate further on the matter.

Kei probably should have said something a long time ago.

Perhaps he should have stopped Kou from starting the blasted second movie, but “Kei, it’s not that late! And how else will you know how it ends?” (Apparently, never was not a viable option.)

So here they are, sitting through another two hours of what Kou calls an “iconic classic” and Kei under his breath refers to as trash, but not the recyclable kind.

The cinematography is stunning, he has to admit begrudgingly, and the plot, albeit ridiculous, still manages to draw him in enough for him to forego his plans of turning the movie off several times, which is quite bothersome.

Well, fine then, Kei thinks to himself, at least now if Eriko badgers him about those movies again, he can give her a detailed review of every single logical error he has discovered so far.

He is considering starting a list, just so as to have some backup proof. His little sister’s education doesn’t have to suffer any more than it already had.

“Is she really going to sit around for months and wait for him to come back?” Kei complains, grabbing a fist full of popcorn from the bowl Hirasawa had made for them, “That’s a complete waste of time.”

“I don’t know, don’t you think some people are worth waiting for?” Kou threw in, giving Kei a knowing -sort-of-look that he couldn’t place.

It was the first sentence he had spoken in a while. Apart from his rambling monologue to get Izumi to join them a while prior when she came in to check if the streaming service was working.

“Did you see these movies already, Izumi-san?” Kou had asked and Kei surely hadn’t imagined the blush pinkening her cheeks.

“Oh, those? Just…once.” she’d replied, her voice sounding a little too high-pitched for that to be true, “It all seems fine, so I should get going-“

“Ah, already? Take a seat, take a seat!” Kou says generously, gesturing to the couch, “You need a break too, right?”

And Izumi did, albeit only tentatively on the edge. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes.” she promises.

She lied. Fifteen minutes later, she is still there and Kei doesn’t have the heart to kick her out, despite this being a a date, as he not so subtly communicated to Kou via verbal cues – all of which the other successfully ignored -but then, he bitterly thought, what chance did their pseudo-trial stand against Kou’s immortal woman of his dreams?

His thoughts screech to a halt. What does he even care what Kou thinks about either of them? It was all beyond ridiculous.

“It depends on how long you’re waiting for them.” Kei says, in response to Kou’s earlier question, “What about you, Izumi-san?”

“I think some relationships are worth preserving.” Izumi replies meaningfully, but right before she can say anything else, her phone goes off, the Caller-ID flashing with a familiar name.

“It seems Tosaki-san needs my assistance.” she says, barely concealing a wistful sigh, “Have fun you two.”

“He really needs to stop working you to the bone.” Kou complains.

Kei has the decency to feel guilty about the relief that settles in him when she leaves.

The motorcycle ride looks engaging. An activity Kei himself wouldn’t mind doing, seeing as there was zero risk involved to his safety with his newfound Ajin status.

As he verbalizes all of this, Kou gives him yet another of these knowing looks.

“Well, you were always one for motorcycles, weren’t you?” he says, tone bordering on smug.

Kei frowns. “Where did you get that idea from? I’ve only ridden one so far, but that was with Kaito.”

“I know.” Kou says, and then downs the rest of his coke.

“Refill?” he asks, holding out his hand for Kei’s glass.

“Sure.” Kei says, passing it over. He eyes Nakano skeptically, for any hint as to why his demeanor kept fluctuating.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Kei cautiously takes the glass from him. Their fingers brush, lingering just a second too long to be casual. Kei notices how the tips of Kou’s ears redden and uses his momentary distraction to his advantage.

“You really hate that Jacob guy, don’t you?”

Judging by the look on his teammate’s face, he hit the nail on the head.

“I, uh, well hate is a kinda strong word.” Kou hesitates, stumbling over words, “He’s just not my favourite.”

“Really?” Kei asks, raising an eyebrow. In all honesty, he isn’t very interested in either of the characters, but psychoanalyzing Kou is what gives the evening its spice.

“Why is that so surprising?” Kou pouts.

“Because he’s just the same sort of muscle-brained idiot that you are.” Kei responds, gracing Kou with an exasperated look, before turning back to the movie.

“Oh.”

His words seemed to have had a profound effect on his teammate. Whatever sort of enlightenment had reached Kou, it had visibly brightened his mood.

“He is, isn’t he.” Kou says, with a small laugh.

“I don’t know why that is so surprising.”

“Guess I never thought of it that way.”

Which was exactly why it fit so well, Kei thinks to himself. Kou looks positively thrilled with the new discovery. As much as it pains to admit him, a lot remains about his teammate that he still doesn’t understand.

“I think he might be becoming my new favourite character.” Kou says, conspiratorially, sliding closer to Kei and slinging arm around him.

As the movie goes on, Kei starts to feel more and more tired. The comfortable atmosphere and the constant stream of voices from the TV serve to lull him a sleepy state. “Wake me up when they reach Italy.” he mumbles, the exhaustion of another day spent training finally catching up with him.

Kou mumbles an affirmative, and that’s where Kei’s memory cuts off.

The next thing he knows, someone is prodding at him from the side, instructing him to wake up.

“Fine, five more minutes.” Kei says, swatting the offending hand away.

He blinks as he comes too, shielding his eyes against the sudden brightness of the room.

The movie has ended, but even if hadn’t, Kei wouldn’t have been able to see much of the screen.

Not with Tosaki blocking their view.

“It’s almost 1 am.” he informs them through clenched teeth, “Get upstairs before I sever the internet connection.”

It’s a substantial threat. Substantial enough to briefly distract Kei from the fact that he had fallen asleep right on top of Kou.

“Fuck.” Kei swears under his breath, sitting up straight.

His teammate seems less perturbed.

“You missed the ending.” is all Kou has to say for himself, with a shit-eating grin.

(“It really is pointless.” Kei whispers, later that night, as they are both lying in Kou’s bed, a hair-brained decision that Kei blames his tiredness for.

“The whole being with a vampire. She can’t be, unless someone turns her into one, but that would be the epitome of a ridiculous clishé".

“…”

“Oh God, please tell me I’m wrong.”)

[btsmosphere]

When You Know | KSJ x MYG

~summary: Seokjin and Yoongi aren’t just neighbours. They are enemies. Well, either that or they were destined to be in each other’s arms, but Yoongi can’t see that happening (nor can his cat). Let their friends try all they want, but they’d have to weather storms together and stand back to back in battle before Yoongi would look twice at Jin... Jin x Yoongi ~word count: 3.3k ~enemies to lovers, soulmate au (you have the name of your enemy AND your soulmate tattooed, without knowing which is which), neighbour au, crack, humour, fluff, angst if you squint? Rating: pg13 Warnings: swearing, that’s it :) ~a/n: welcome to my first mxm fic! This is for a special occasion as it is the wonderful @eternalseokjin​‘s birthday!! To celebrate Dean’s birthday over at @thebtswritersclub​ we were sent a bingo card and a challenge to include everything on it in one fic. Our regular mxr content will resume soon, but this has been super fun to write, even if the outcome is -ahem- quite chaotic. So, enjoy, but don’t ask me what’s going on here. I don’t know, and the characters certainly don’t either...

At the end of the fic, I will include what was on my bingo square, in case anyone wants to know, and some basics about d&d for those who (like me a few weeks ago) know nothing about it, but I promise you don’t need to know this to read the fic!

“You’re not serious.”

“I am totally serious.”

Namjoon’s straight-faced response matched Yoongi’s exactly, leaving the two in a sort of staring contest. Seeing no change in the other, Namjoon cracked first, slumping back into the sofa with a sigh.

“Yoongi, come on. It’s not that big of a deal-“

“Why would I want to do it?” Yoongi grumbled.

“it’s just a bit of fun-“

“Then go and do it with Seokjin. I’m sure you’ll have a great time playing wizards, or whatever the fuck-“

“That’s the entire point!” Namjoon threw his hands up in frustration, “we will all be playing, you and Jin included, and we will have a great time.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure if he had ever been threatened with having fun before. Staring back at his friend, his expression remained guarded. Eventually, he sucked at his teeth, turning his eyes away from the younger man.

“Fine,” he bit out.

“Thank you,” Namjoon huffed, pushing on his knees to stand up, “we’ll start at 5 on Sunday, but I’ll get here earlier. Jin will bring food to make up for the trouble.”

Following Joon out to see him off, Yoongi’s brows furrowed.

“Wait- what trouble? And what do you mean you’ll get here-“

“You’ll be hosting. Okay, bye!”

The door was shut in his face before he could protest any further. Cursing Namjoon for knowing him so damn well, Yoongi stomped to the kitchen and soon began scrubbing the teacups to within an inch of their life.

He’d heard of dungeons and dragons before. Well, vaguely. It hadn’t occurred to him before to pay attention to Namjoon whenever he spoke about it, because surprisingly enough, he hadn’t expected his friend to suddenly whip it out as a method of forcing him and Seokjin – his mortal enemy – to bond.

The whole mortal enemy thing wasn’t even an exaggeration.

What else were you supposed to think when the new neighbour, whose name happens to be printed on your wrist, tries to turn your cat over to the authorities on their first day after it launched a ‘targeted attack’ on their pet sugar gliders.

Yoongi was yet to meet the mysterious V that graced his other wrist, but he knew for sure that Kim Seokjin was his enemy. He could not be soulmates with someone who thinks it’s okay to leave a pair of sugar gliders by an open window and not expect a cat to see them as a tasty meal.

When they had learned each other’s names, and of course connected them with their tattoos, an icy silence fell between the neighbours.

Every now and then, Yoongi would get a reminder of the fact his mortal enemy lived next door. Like this morning, when Seokjin’s wheely bin had blown over and spilled rubbish onto his lawn.

Yes, that man’s evil knew no limits.

And if Yoongi would have to endure his friends’ attempts at reconciling the two of them, in his own house, then he was sure of one thing. He was not going to eat Seokjin’s cooking. It was probably awful, anyway.

That Sunday, at precisely five minutes to five, Namjoon arrived. Yoongi’s eyes widened in alarm at the bulging folder held under his arm. He really had come prepared. Yoongi had barely spent twenty minutes scribbling down some things about his character. Well, except when he had to read all about the different class choices… and then when he needed to select the perfect traits… and picking his spells was quite tough too…

“Are you excited?” Namjoon grinned as he set his stuff down, but then he faltered, “…I did tell you Jin would bring food, didn’t I?”

“Can’t remember,” Yoongi muttered.

He slouched over to the sofa while Namjoon shrugged, grabbing a bite from the nearest bowl of snacks. The table was littered with them, and Yoongi would never admit just how early he had got up that morning to start cooking.

Jungkook turned up next, and of course the brat would instantly wolf down the tub of popcorn rather than the bites Yoongi had been slaving over.

Seokjin’s was the last knock on the door, and a timid one at that. Although it may have had something to do with the food his arms were laden with.

As Yoongi opened the door (Namjoon had shoved him towards it before anyone else had the chance to respond), he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty. It seemed his neighbour had worked just as hard as him on preparing it all.

But still, more of a grimace than a smile showed on his face.

“This way,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

His guilt was short-lived, irritation setting back in as Seokjin invited himself into the kitchen to put down his things. Jungkook bounded after him almost instantly, the pair’s loud greeting audible from the next room.

Turning away bitterly, Yoongi sat in the empty seat between Namjoon and Taehyung, determined to keep his distance from Seokjin.

In time, however, he came to regret this decision, if only because it put Seokjin in full view of the eyes Yoongi so desperately wanted to roll when he announced he wanted to attempt to charm his way to free dinner at the first inn they got to. His reason? His stupid elf claimed to be ‘worldwide handsome’.

The infuriating smirk on his face as he declared this (and then proceeded to pass his roll, because of course) left Yoongi with little doubt this arrogance was nothing but a projection.

After introducing themselves, Yoongi slumping back in his chair the whole time, he let the others take the lead as they set off to find monsters, or something. A pointed look from Namjoon prompted him to pay more attention.

In fairness, he had been a bit creeped out when Taehyung announced he had named his character ‘V’, but he tried his best to listen to the adventure as Namjoon described it. And so they went along, the supply of snacks steadily dwindling as they made their way through some ruins.

The scene was quite vivid, until-

“That’s cat food, Jungkook!”

“Urgh, gross,” Jimin groaned as Jin pried the bowl away from the sheepish-faced younger.

If it had been anyone else, Yoongi would have returned the fond-but-exasperated look they were all well practised in, given the nature of their younger friends. As it was, he ducked his head, scribbling nonsense on his notepad.

It would be a lie if Yoongi said he wasn’t quite proud of himself for solving a riddle to get them into the final room, and getting the final hit on the hellhound inside. And maybe, just maybe, he was a little excited for their next game.

Shutting the door at long last, Yoongi paused for a moment.

Screw Namjoon and his good ideas.

Clearing away the dishes, Yoongi couldn’t help a glance out the window to watch as Seokjin let himself in to his own place, his own stack of plates in his arms. Not that he would ever admit it, Yoongi hadn’t been able to resist just one bite…

Well, it turned into a lot more than that. Maybe Seokjin was a good cook after all.

But that was just one redeeming quality. Best not get ahead of himself.

Yoongi was in trouble.

It had only been a couple more weeks, but he knew that much. As they sat around his table, he caught himself laughing along to Jin’s jokes. And look, he was already calling him Jin! No, he had to stick to Seokjin, the evil neighbour, his enemy.

If he got fond, he would only be sorry later when Jin – Seokjin – did something to remind Yoongi of what a terrible person he was.

Shame all of this seemed to slip his mind the moment Jin came around again.

“The slope is steep, with rocks falling where you move your feet. You can still hear the song, though, and you are certain it’s coming from inside the dark opening you can see at the bottom of the path.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Yoongi was the first to speak.

“Are you kidding? We just spent like an hour trekking over here specifically because of that music,” Taehyung was next to chip in, jabbing his finger into the table.

“It wasn’t an hour,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, “Joon told us it was hour, it was what? One minute?”

A high pitched giggle from Jin was overtaken next by Jimin.

“No, I can feel the weariness in my bones! It won’t be complete until we hear the song!”

“We’ve been hearing it all this time! Aren’t you guys sick of it by now?” Jin retorted.

“No! Joon specifically said it’s the most beautiful music we’ve ever heard,” Tae insisted.

“I don’t give a shit if there’s a chorus of angels in there, my dexterity is not gonna let me get down that cliff,” Yoongi folded his arms to punctuate his argument.

“Ugh, fine, well I want to go down with V,” Jimin said.

The two factions that had emerged looked expectantly towards Namjoon.

“Okay, so V and Christian want to go down and Genie and Suga want to stay here. Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’ll go down,” Kook shrugged.

All heads turned now to Hobi. Unease written all over his features, he glanced between the two groups.

“Come one, don’t be boring, hyung!” Jimin elbowed him.

“Yeah, come with us!” Kook bounced in his seat as Taehyung switched on the puppy eyes with a string of ‘pleeeease’s.

Cracking under the force of the youngers’ begging, Hoseok laughed and agreed.

Folding his arms, Yoongi leant back in his chair, more than ready to be a bystander to whatever the hell the others were about to get themselves into.

The others of course had an irritating success rate, somehow making it down the cliff without plummeting to their deaths. Not that Yoongi would ever wish death upon his own party members. Of course not.

It would have been funny, though.

Anyway, despite his aversion to following them, Yoongi admittedly was a little curious about the mysterious music they had followed here.

“Stepping inside the cave, the party hears the music louder than ever, ringing in their ears as it bounces off the rocks, making its source unclear. However, it doesn’t offend your ears. The cave extends further into the cliff, and you follow the sound further in. But as you take a step, a great groaning drowns out the music. Behind you, the mouth of the cave shifts, everything around you going black.

“Those of you at the top of the cliff stumble back from the edge as they see the path crumble away into the sea from the shaking of the earth.”

Namjoon sniggered softly at the silence that followed.

Staring at him with comically large eyes, Hobi and Tae looked terrified. As Yoongi watched, Tae slowly turned his head, a smirk turning the edges of his mouth underneath puppy eyes.

“Come rescue us?” he asked sheepishly.

Before Yoongi could respond, Jin was cutting him off.

“Well, that was a fun detour! Where was it we were heading again, Yoongi?”

Yoongi had been preparing to be mad at Seokjin, but his glare dissolved quickly into a snort.

“Yeah, that demon up the road needs seeing to,” he agreed, creating instant uproar from the others.

“You can’t leave us!”

“Justin’s scared of the dark!”

“Traitors!”

However, Jin’s squeaky laugh as he revelled in the others’ pain was all Yoongi could hear. Then Jin leaned closer.

It was all Yoongi could do not jump from his seat when Seokjin’s voice spoke in his ear.

“Shall we leave them?” he was barely containing his mirth.

Feeling rather like he was plotting a prank in the back of the classroom, Yoongi grinned and agreed with a nod. He didn’t quite trust his voice to function as Jin’s breath tickled his cheek.

“We’re leaving!” Jin declared, sitting back in his chair, satisfied.

Before any more chaos could erupt, Namjoon continued with a smirk.

“Okay, so Suga and Genie carry on their previous path, away from their friends and the cliff…”

This was officially getting out of hand.

First of all, Yoongi couldn’t believe how eagerly he was anticipating the weekend, when Seokjin and the others would come around.

Particularly worrying, however, was the way Yoongi had to restrain himself from going to see Jin before Sunday rolled around. It was as if that writing on his wrist was staring at him. The more he tried to look away, the later he would find himself sat up at night, glancing between his wrists and what was written there.

Surely, if Kim Seokjin was his enemy, he wouldn’t be dying to ask how he makes his ramen taste so good. Or how his day was, or any trivial thing, just to be able to have Jin’s eyes on him and his voice in his ears.

Second of all, he had no idea how their campaign had devolved into such utter chaos.

Since the party split, the others made friends with the sirens they found in the cave, and ended up at a drinking party with some demons while Yoongi and Jin were nearly killed by one some miles away on the surface. The demons had apparently taken a particular shining to V, as a tiefling, which resulted in the group they abandoned somehow siding with the very demons they were trying to kill at the start.

Last Sunday had seen Yoongi and Jin going out of their way to find random things to beat to death in the forest, trying to get as many points as possible to face off against four members and goodness knows how many demons.

Yes, this had got rather out of hand.

Two old foes stand face to face on a precipice. Around them, fire blazes. This battle has ravaged the very land they stand upon, whipped the air into a frenzy.

Admittedly, they can barely remember what started this feud. Rumour has it these two great powers were friends, once. If that was so, it was a long time ago.

V stands, battle-worn, waiting for his adversary to make a move.

Suga looks at the body of his fallen companion.

“I’ve only got one spell slot left.”

“Use it,” a whisper returned.

“Aren’t you dead?! Stop talking to each other!” Jimin exclaimed, finger pointing accusingly towards Jin.

“Okay,” Yoongi cut in before they could start arguing, “if this hits, I can take him down. But there’s a fat chance of that, with his AC…“

Trepidation filled him as he looked across the table to Taehyung, a small but unmistakeably victorious smile already on his lips.

A dry chuckle came from one side.

“It’s been a good run,” Jin clapped him on the shoulder.

“Are you accepting defeat?” Joon prompted.

“No…” a hand ran down Yoongi’s face, “I’ll give it a go…”

“There’s no way! If you succeed…” Jin laughed, “if you succeed, I’ll kiss you.”

A quiet round of laughter went around the others, too focussed on the dice in Yoongi’s hand to pay it any mind. But Yoongi could no longer concentrate on that. What did Jin just say?

He couldn’t mean that.

There was no way he would kiss Yoongi. Was there?

All he could hear was the slow drumming of his heart rushing in his ears. The breath caught in his throat as he reminded himself to raise his hand, dice cupped inside.

It wasn’t just the defeat of V he hoped for as it rolled off his fingers, dropping onto the tabletop.

The faces flipped over, every eye trained on it. Around the table, there was no sound. Even Jungkook had stopped munching his popcorn, mouth hanging open.

Round, round, round…

Yoongi caught a glimpse of 20, the magic number, right within reach.

A small thud, the dice settling. A number glared up at him.

3.

All the air left his lungs, deflating as he stared at the number. For a second, the table remained silent as everyone came to terms with the roll, the only sound the tapping of his cat’s paws-

Wait.

When Yoongi turned to find his cat leaping onto the table, it was already to late to grab her as she dashed across the surface. As she went, her paws caught a bowl of snacks, Joon’s notepaper, the dice. Hobi exclaimed with shock, several yells going up as everyone snatched their own stuff out of her way. Jungkook had dived after the snacks.

“Hey!” Yoongi shooed her as he stood up, watching her dart out into the hall.

“Oh my god…”

The small mutter from Jimin caught his attention. Looking around, Yoongi found him staring at the table and followed his gaze to the crime scene. In the centre of which, the dice still lay.

But now, a different number was displayed.

Yoongi’s jaw dropped. It was 20.

“That’s not fair!” Taehyung cried.

“Shush Tae, Jin has to do what he promised,” Hoseok teased, nudging a very red-eared Jin.

“Yah! Hey, I-I, that’s-” Jin spluttered, mouth seemingly fixed open as his cheeks warmed, growing defensive.

As Yoongi watched, Jin only stuttered more under the teasing cries erupting from the other boys as they egged him on with an array of ‘go on’s and ‘you said you would!’

“I-I-“ his eyes flickered over to Yoongi’s.

And despite the jeering and laughter in the background, neither of them looked away. Jin’s lips remained parted, ears pink with embarrassment, protests lodged in his throat.

Yoongi stepped forwards and kissed him.

The distance between them closed in the blink of an eye, Yoongi’s hand flying to Jin’s jaw as he pulled him in, turning his back to the gasps and cheers of their friends.

But they didn’t hear it. Not when their lips were pressed together like this, lighting fireworks in Yoongi’s stomach until he felt like sparks might fly out of his fingertips, the ones he was trailing down Jin’s neck, the ones pulling at the small of his back to bring him closer.

The others had gone quiet.

By the time he groggily pulled away, Yoongi seemed to have forgotten what the world looked like. Were his feet even on the ground?

In what was probably a mirror image of his own face, Jin stared back at him, eyes wide and those perfect lips round with shock. Jin’s fingers trembled as he brought them to his mouth.

“Holy fuck.”

“U-uh, guys,” a small voice from behind them did little to snap them from their trance.

“That was-“ Yoongi breathed, words escaping him.

“It’s you, you idiot!” a grin broke onto Jin’s face.

A laugh left Yoongi’s throat, taking him by surprise.

“It- really?”

“Did you not feel that too?”

Eyes still not leaving the beautiful man in front of him, Yoongi realised. Jin was completely right. Everyone had always told him how it would feel, when he kissed his soulmate. Like butterflies, or a flame, or like the world turned golden.

But through all the different feelings people described, there was one common thread. When you know, you know.

“You’re my soulmate.”

It wasn’t something he had to question, the words leaving him as easily as air.

“You’re my soulmate!”

And then he was wrapped up in Jin’s arms, his lips captured once again, euphoric feeling surging through his body once more.

“Come on, guys…” Namjoon’s groans were completely ignored.

Taehyung was still a bit put out that V had been slain at the last hurdle, but it hardly seemed fitting to be angry about it anymore, what with his two friends falling in love in front of him.

Everyone left together after the revelation, and pretty swiftly at that, deciding to leave them to it. And for once, Jin wouldn’t be leaving with them, even if he would only be one house away.

Smile never once leaving his face, Jin turned to Yoongi after shutting the door.

“So, what are we going to do about my sugar gliders?”

Thanks everyone for reading!! Reblog if you liked it xx

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @kb-bangtanenthusiast​

Okay, for anyone interested, my bingo card contained: dungeons & dragons, neighbours, enemies to lovers, namjoon, yoonjin, cats, fluff, music, soulmates And here are some dnd basics for those who want them: you have a dungeon master or dm (Namjoon here) who tells a story. The others play as a character and choose what they want to do in the given situation. There are scores that dictate how good your character is at certain traits, and you roll the dice to see whether you succeed in your choices. That’s really all you need to know for the purposes of this fic, but you can ask me any questions too!

Lastly, I have to give another HUGE happy birthday to the amazing writer and friend and person @eternalseokjin​!! I hope you have the best day, you really deserve it! I’m so glad to have met you and of course played dnd together in the net! Lots of love xx

[tartagilicious]

our future > gavin, mlqc

ok… here comes the actual birthday fic — happy birthday, one of my biggest comfort characters ever <3 I’ve grown to be so attached to him over the time I’ve been playing mlqc, and though I really can’t even put into words how much I love him, he just makes me feel so happy. I truly hope all of us can find someone that makes us feel the way, fictional or real. //w.c 2330 // not a request.

[toothbrush by dnce]

I’ve only ever met one person I would call truly noble. In the glint of his amber eyes, I've seen more kindness and effort for reform than I have in anyone else -- slowly chipping away at the person everyone had expected him to become to reveal the man he had always wanted himself to be.

My sentiment means very little compared to all that Gavin deserves, but, I’m proud of him. I know very little people that could make it out of such a deep hole, littered with familial and personal issues that even I don’t quite understand. And I thank the deities of fate every day for giving him the chances he needed to get through everything unscathed.

I watch my apartment door open to show his face, suddenly contorting in what I’d call a lost kind of surprise at the small group cheering for him -- as if something about a surprise birthday party doesn’t make sense. But it quickly fades to be replaced with a more familiar happiness, soft like in days of the past.

Yet, his smile is the only thing that remains unchanged in my memory. His spirit has since grown stronger, his body firmer, his sense of justice tighter -- but all of it still belongs to the same man that I have always known.

“Boss!”

Kiki had hissed my name thrice before I realised anyone was calling me that day, and as she smiled mischievously, I knew exactly what she was up to. She must have peered over my shoulder and--

“So, about Gavin.” She had pulled over a seat to sit next to me, in which I quickly clicked off the tab I was on and found something more work-appropriate. Party planning could wait until I was off of work, anyway.

Kiki startled me by asking, “It’s his birthday soon, isn’t it?”

Flashes of the tab I had closed out of flooded my memory, and stammering, I nodded.

“Y-yeah, it is. Why?”

“I think we should throw a party for him! Just as thanks for being so helpful with Miracle Finder, y’know?”

I thought for a moment, painfully aware of Kiki’s eager expression in the corner of my eye even as my mind screamed obscenities. The aforementioned plans held a certain weight in my heart, dragging my mind down with everything I'd be unable to do in the scenario of a party. But, in an effort to keep from having to expose those plans, I swallowed my complaints and agreed.

It’s better this way.

I dropped down onto my bed later that same day and groaned into the pillow, my brows furrowing as I cursed my inability to say no. This wasn’t the end of the world, surely it’d still spin regardless of how the day is spent -- granted that the things I planned to say to him that day aren’t pushed back too far.

That form of reassurance immediately failed to wipe the frown off my face.

Rolling over in a huff, I caught a near perfect glimpse of his gift sitting wrapped on my vanity, its bright and slightly messy packaging mocking me almost more than I could take. Oh, what a day to be reminded that what goes around, comes around.

Truthfully, the idea didn’t taste as bitter in my mouth the next morning. That didn’t excuse the nauseating feeling of anxiety it left behind, but it was progress nonetheless. I opted to keep my breakfast down and stow his gift away from my prying eyes.

It was the beginnings of a busy day, starting with countless bullets in my planner being scribbled out to make room for the new circumstances. The only thing that had remained unchanged was the guestlist, comprised of the close staff he was aware of on Miracle Finder and Eli. A part of my eagerness faltered looking at the rest of the blacked out page, but all I could do was hope that during our meeting, Eli, the first invitee, had what it would take to bring my spirits back up.

The bus was mostly empty on such an afternoon -- kids in school and adults at work. Yet, of course, a certain someone still somehow managed to show up.

I was broken out of my thoughts by a tap on my shoulder, the smooth yet irritating voice of its owner letting my heart sink a bit further into my stomach. Begrudgingly, I looked up at Shaw’s expecting eyes and sigh.

“The seat’s open, you don’t have to ask me.”

His similarly amber eyes peered down at me through lilac bangs, but his short observation session ended with a simple shrug. Shaw had very little problem plopping right down next to me as if we’d known each other forever, even adding the polite touch of music blaring from his headphones.

I stared for a moment, but shook off whatever thoughts had begun to creep into my mind and turned my attention back over to the open planner in my lap, the page depressingly blank. I couldn’t focus for what seemed like eons, but I looked up to realise that it may have something to do with the unwavering gaze trained on my face.

“Shaw?” I questioned, unable to keep a small smile from my face as his eyebrows suddenly flicked up. “Is something wrong?”

“Working on the bus? I didn’t take you for such an overachiever.”

I snorted, twirling the pen between my fingers absentmindedly as he took out a single earbud. “I guess a busybody like you wouldn’t know.”

“Care to tell this busybody what you’re up to, then?” He hummed and pointed curiously to the scribbled out block of text with his finger. I could feel the temperature in my face rising with each passing second, yet I tried my best to answer him regardless.

“I-I’m trying to plan for someone’s birthday…” I started, laughing awkwardly as Shaw retracted his hand with a teasing smile. “I just had to scrap some things, that’s the mess.”

“Nice, who’s the lucky guy?”

I’m instantly taken aback. “How would you know if it’s a guy?”

I could tell that my reaction had pleased him, and internally kicked myself when he chuckled.

“Is it going well?”

“...I think so.” I said, unaware that I had said this more to myself than him. “I couldn’t let him down for something so simple, anyway.”

Shaw’s teasing words didn’t come as I expected them, and when I looked up to see his smile, my actions staggered. He seemed suspiciously happy to hear about my lacklustre plans, but I didn’t let that get to me. I had an entire afternoon to worry about before diving into whatever was going on in that man’s head.

Though, at the moment, Shaw isn’t the one that should be capturing my attention.

Gavin stands in the entryway now with Eli and Minor on either side of him, actively being showered with wishes of a good birthday and positive comments alike. The man in the centre of it has a wistful smile curling his lips, growing almost imperceptibly wider as the seconds pass.

Though betraying him are his eyes, openly showing the contentedness that I had been hoping to see. A similar small smile appears on my own lips, yet I fail to recognise that my body’s mechanics are no different from Gavin’s.

At least he’s enjoying this.

I feel guilty and self entitled for even thinking in such a way, especially being the only one that the turn of events has inconvenienced. Everything has a right time, it just seems that tonight just wasn’t mine.

My chest grows hotter instinctively when I notice Gavin break away from the excited pair, as if my irrationality is trying to tell me he knows what I’m thinking. But, through everything, his calm and familiar smile comes to wash over me like a bucket of cold water.

“___~” Gavin drags out my name knowingly, the tips of his ears a buzzing red from all of the interaction. The nature of his smile is similar as he takes me into his arms, only enveloping me fully when I begin to laugh.

And, It may be my delusion, but his grip around me somehow seems a bit tighter than usual.

I settle gratefully into his shoulder as he begins to speak, though truthfully, I can’t bring myself to focus on more than a few words:

“Thank you.”

I feel accomplished to still recognise a similar glow in his eyes around an hour later, curiously following the homemade cake that Minor places down in front of him. The icing looping daintily overtop of it reads as a messy “Happy Birthday!”, and my heart swells when he smiles upon reading it.

Surrounded by the people I care about, my circumstances are momentarily forgotten. It really is the little things that count.

The night from then on goes up in a semi-chaotic flame orchestrated by Minor, who seems very determined to make this a night no one will forget. At one point, he even thrusts a noisemaker into my hands, to which I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of.

People begin to trickle out some time after the clock chimes midnight, passing me their thanks and Gavin a last wish before leaving. The quietness slowly returns to my apartment, but throughout all of this, I can’t help but notice that Gavin makes no attempt to leave with everyone else. It’s subtle, but the way he lingers around everyone tells me enough.

The only thing I don’t quite understand is why.

Then, I remember the gift in my nightstand. It’s been sitting there, alone but not necessarily forgotten, for a few days, abandoned with my original plans. But, if Gavin really does intend to stick around, then maybe I can still make good use of it.

True to expectations, Gavin says goodbye to the last guest while standing by my side. In the next moment, it’s only us left in the silent apartment, held together by nothing but the sounds of our breathing.

“Thank you, ___.” I turn to him when he suddenly speaks, and find myself startled by the gentleness his eyes possess. “Thank you so much for such an amazing day today. I might have said it last year, but I still want to be honest: so many things have happened since then, and it wasn’t until today that I realised that all of the good things that have happened to me, they’re because of you.”

An embarrassed tint bites at my cheeks. It’s not often that Gavin shares his feelings so openly, and I certainly hadn’t expected such an average experience to draw them out.

I smile. “My life changed for the better when you came back into it, this was the least I could do.”

It’s now his turn to grow shy at my words, and I can’t help but giggle.

“Here,” My laughter fades through my words as I wave for him to sit down on the couch. “I have one last thing for you, so just wait there.”

Gavin doesn’t refute like I expect him to, and instead, he does what I say. But, I don’t miss the tenderness in his gaze even as I turn away.

My heart beats in anticipation as I walk down the hall, almost out of my chest by the time I stop in front of the correct drawer. I’ve backed myself so far into a corner that even if I did want to chicken out, there would be no excuse -- so, I take a deep breath and wrap my hand around the small package, letting the scent of paper cajole me.

He’ll like it.

I repeat that sentence like a mantra as I hand it to him, settling beside him as he opens the box. A huge weight in my heart lifts to see the surprise and excitement in his eyes, and I internally sigh with relief.

“Though it doesn’t have a tracker in it or anything...” I trail off with a small laugh, paying homage to Gavin’s small but running white lie. “I still want you to look down at it and know that wherever you are, I’ll always be there for you.”

Gavin holds up the homemade ginkgo bracelet so it catches the light, its appearance reminiscent to the one he had given me when we first met again. Its charm is slightly bigger than mine, and the chain still faintly smells of the store it was bought from, but that doesn’t even seem to phase him.

“Thank you, ___.” His expression is so unguarded that I almost hesitate. “This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

My face flushes under his compliment, but I quickly pick myself up again and offer to help him put it on. He smiles appreciatively before dropping the small chain bracelet into my palm, holding out his hand.

My embarrassment turns into slight satisfaction when I clasp it around his wrist, my estimation in sizing turning out to be correct. Though, the glint in my eye is long forgotten when Gavin’s hand comes up to rest on the back of my head in a tender gesture.

Heat emanates from where he touches me, so, similarly, I let my fingers over his wrist linger for just a second longer. Painstaking moments pass where neither of us speak, until finally, his hand leads my gaze upwards.

His lips that land on mine remind me of a thousand memories at once.

Gavin tastes of brisk mornings spent in the music room, warm only due to the hot chocolate a curious senior had left for the girl who practiced there every day. He tastes of every compassionate word shared to me, between nights spent dancing in the sky and afternoons around Loveland investigating the truth -- of a unique comfort and familiarity.

It’s in these moments that I realise how much we’ve gone through together, and how much our future truly holds.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Batfam and friends after dentist

I just remembered this video : clickclickclick, and this happened. Please, don’t take it too seriously it’s just a fun little joke post haha. I hope you’ll still enjoy it a little nonetheless ^^. Here we are, the Batfam and friends, after dentist :

DICK

Dick : “Turns out my dentist is not giving me a plaque for great teeth after all. He really hurt my fillings.” Makes all the WORST pun you can think about, to calm his nerve, as he’s about to go to surgery to take his wisdom teeth out. Bruce is there, for support. Of course, he’d be there for his son. Dick wakes up, the surgery went GREAT. He looks around, a little groggy, looks at his dad, and...Starts to rap absolute nonsense, as if his life depended on it : 

“I'm feeling the rainbow like skittles

dropping reptars like my name was tommy pickles

for rizzle, thats drizzle?

nah my nizzle, thats the shizzle”

Asks Bruce to buy him a “big ass gold chain” and if the dentist could transplant silver teeth on him now, “while we’re at it”. Bruce is able to reason with him and convinces him that sure, he’ll buy him the gold chain he wants, but he should wait for the teeth because his mouth is still too numb and such. Dick agrees that it sounds sensible, but does not drop the subject of him becoming a successful rapper. On the way back to the Manor, they stop to buy a gold chain, because Bruce cannot resists when his kids give him the “puppy eyes”. Dick choses the ugliest biggest thing in the entire shop. It says “bling bling” on it, has a few shiny diamonds, and is about twice the size of his head. He looks at it as if it was the best thing on earth while on the ride home. The drugs start to wear off but as a result he’s super tired again, he goes to sleep...Wakes up with that ugly chain, wondering what the hell happened. 

JASON

Woke up after wisdom teeth removal. Got pissed because he really wanted Coca Cola but there was only Pepsi. Proceeded to tell Bruce that him bringing Pepsi back instead of Coke was worst than when he didn’t kill the Joker to avenge his death (queue Bruce nervously looking at the nurses, and really insisting on how funny people who just got their wisdom teeth removed could be). After the Pepsi/Coke debacle claimed he has 9 children (Bruce’s influence for sure hahaha). Apollo and Jean-Claude being his favorite two. Proceeded to cry because he admitted he had favorite children, and thought it was horrible to choose a favorite. Apologized to “his” kids that were definitely not there and talked about how his dad (pointing at Bruce), never had favorites. Bruce is touched. Until Jason remembers the Pepsi incident and tries to escape the room by jumping out of the window to go pouting alone somewhere. Queue a ridiculous struggle between Bruce and his son, as Jason, still quite limped and out of it because of the sleeping drugs, resists as best as he can while his dad drags him to the car to go home, trying to be as gentle as possible because he doesn’t want to hurt Jason’s mouth. Just to be sure, Bruce stops on the way to buy a bunch of coke bottles... 

TIM

After waking up from getting his wisdom teeth removed, sitting in a wheelchair because he can’t stand yet (Tim is very resistant to anesthetic, and they had to give him more than usual for it to work), telling to Bruce who’s wheeling him back to the car, in a very dramatic way : “Lady, I thank you for your help. You have to release me back to the ocean now. My time on land, is over.”

Bruce, not sure he quite understood : “...What was that, chum ?” 

Tim : “I said please m’am, get me back to my people. They need me.” 

Then the boy proceeds to stick both his legs up, and move them as if he was a mermaid, making “woosh” sounds with his mouth as if he was splashing water around. Bruce doesn’t even try to reason with him (he remembers how it was impossible to do so with Jason and his Coke, or with Dick who really thought he was a rapper), so he goes along with it, talking about Tim’s “people” and why he can’t stay on land. Queue a dramatic full of adventure stories where he was taken away from his land and...and Bruce realizes the boy is kinda telling Aquaman’s story (that he probably learned by hacking into Batman’s secret files he has on everyone). He seems to really believe it...When they get back home, Tim is suspicious because there is no ocean, but his dad convinces him that the pool is said ocean, and Tim solemnly say “good bye” to Bruce, before dipping into the water. Of course, Bruce keeps an eye on him, because in the state he is there might be accidents, but Tim just lays there, on his back, floating around and mumbling about fish species he knows. Eventually, the cold water gets to him and he finally comes back to his senses. Bruce helps him out of the pool, and Tim goes to sleep, wrapped in blankets, holding his dad’s hand. 

CASSANDRA

She had to have a rather heavy mouth surgery after an accident, and woke up ,slowly, in a hospital bed. Bruce was there of course, waiting patiently, worried, and hoping she’d wake up soon. It was nerve wracking to wait for your child to be better ! When she does wake up, she doesn’t even look lost or anything, although the surgeon told Bruce that she was probably gonna be feeling a little hazy and such. So the fact she seems totally fine reassures her dad. And then suddenly she throws her blanket off of her, stands up so fast that Bruce’s brain doesn’t have time to react, and walks to the nearest fire alarm. She looks at Bruce straight in the eyes, pull the alarm, and just says : 

“Shit’s fire.” 

DAMIAN

He had to have a minor surgery on his jaw, but was still put under anesthetic. Bruce, having witnessed his other kids under it, is ready to have a good laugh...But his boy is just sitting there, waiting for his father to fill in some paperwork and pay for the surgery. Yeah sure, it’s a little weird that he keeps petting his tongue but, ya know, maybe he’s feeling weird because his entire mouth is numb. Then Bruce is done with paperworks and such, and goes to Damian, who proceeds to tell him he got “a ‘ew ‘at” (a new cat)...

“Um. Really, champ ? Uuuh...Where is it ?” ----> Bruce playing along. And then Damian looks at him and breaks into a huge goofy smile and says : “’Ight ‘ere.” (Right here) Showing the tongue he has been petting for the past twenty minutes. Damian then tells to whoever goes by that he has a new cat and asks them if they want to pet him. Bruce takes him home, laughing to himself all the way, and promises a Damian who came back to his senses that this little story will indeed stay between them. 

BRUCE 

Not actually him after dentist, but something I thought about a lot :

Dentist : “Mister Wayne, do you grind your teeth ?” 

Bruce : “Yes. Have you seen how many children I have ?” 

Also, he waits the last minute before having to urgently remove his wisdom teeth, because the big bad bat is...afraid of the dentist. Alfred has to go with him. Bruce makes sure all the kids are busy this day, to their great disappointment...Alfred takes a lot of video for them (because it’s unfair he got to see them all floozy and they didn’t). The kids make a montage of it and post it on YouTube, as well as on instagram stories, calling it : “Is Bruce Wayne ok ?”, and it’s like a bunch of short images of what Bruce did after his surgery, still under the anesthetic’s influence. Him crying, him laughing like a mad man the second after, him hugging a pillow shaped like a tooth and refusing to let go because he thinks it’s the one they took out of his mouth, blabbering nonsense, asking for a “taco milkshake” etc etc...Of course, video went viral. 

ALFRED 

Has apparently nothing wrong with him, which is infuriating to the family who was really expecting him to have something that they could eventually use against him. Since he “raised” most of the them, he has way too much leverage against them, and they have way too little. But he’s just normal, and it’s so annoying. 

Up until they come home, and he goes in the kitchen, ignores Bruce telling him that he needs to get some rest, and proceeds to whip a five course meal, making the weirdest combination ever...Porridge and Turkey ? Saurkraut in an Enchilada ? Salt and Vinegar chips in a smoothie ?

STEPHANIE

Bruce picks her up after her wisdom teeth removal (it’sjusttheeasythinghaha), along with Tim, and she has that dreamy look in her eyes. Tim asks her if she’s alright, and she’s like : 

“The dentist said I need a crown.” 

Tim and Bruce are a little perplex, like, this doesn’t sound nice ? But then Steph looks at them and just says : 

“I said, I KNOW RIGHT ?! Guys. I’m going to be a queen.” 

Queue Bruce and Tim smiling, and Steph mumbling something about how one day, she’ll be the boss of them haha. 

DUKE

Of course, Bruce went with Duke because...Well, he unfortunately has no one else :/. And when you have any sort of surgery, it’s nice to have someone you trust with you. So. Anyway. Surgery goes on, and Duke wakes up after a few hours, a little out of it. He looks at Bruce, smiles and is like : “Hiii Brush !” while laughing a little to himself. Which makes B smile too, but then he gets worried because all of a sudden, Duke freezes, and stares at the nurse. Then after a few seconds he’s whispering to Bruce : 

“Hey, hey, why didn’t you tell me that Céline Dion was my nurse ?” 

Evidently, Bruce is confused. Duke then proceeds to admit his biggest guilty pleasure is to blast Céline Dion’s songs when he’s alone. Gushes over that nurse that looks NOTHING like Céline Dion, but he’s SURE it’s her. He blushes and is embarassed because he’s such a fan ! But then finally asks for an autograph, sings her songs badly (even worst with all the gauze in his mouth), and leaves the room, holding onto Bruce, with tears in his eyes because man...he just met Céline Dion ! 

BARBARA

Wakes up from having her wisdom teeth removed, crying, admitting that she killed the president...Which one ? Martin Van Buren of course. Spends the next few minutes crying about how she’s a disgrace to her family because she killed someone and HER DAD IS A COP !! Starts to sing : “Mammmaaaaaaaa, I killed a maaaaaaan” while still crying. But then suddenly is sure that she actually got framed, and becomes super suspicious of everyone, everything culminating when Dick comes to pick her up to bring her home and she thinks he’s the one that is “blackmailing” her, so she takes a run for it...Dick gets Barbara back to her place with a black eye, saying “I don’t want to talk about it” to Commissioner Gordon. Haha. 

LUCAS FOX :

As the dentists says : “I need to put some bitewings in your mouth for the X-rays ok ?”

Luke Fox : “Bat...wing ? Oh. OH ! BATWING !” Hahahaha (could also work with David of course). 

************

Ok done. Again, nothing to take too seriously, it’s obviously just a few little jokes :). Wanted to share nonetheless, I like writing “domestic” lighthearted Batfam stuffs...haha ^^' .

Ah and yeah I know some members of the Batfam extended family (it’s pretty big now) are missing, but I guess it just means I’ll make another post about it hehe. So please, don’t give me too much grief about those I “forgot”, it was getting too long ^^. 

[emachinescat]

And That Would Be Enough

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance”

Summary: In a moment of grief, Arthur says something to his newly appointed Court Sorcerer that he instantly regrets. 

Characters: Merlin, Arthur

Words: 2,752

TW: None

Note: Emotional whump is still whump, right? :) This was written while sick, and I didn't have time to edit, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. I will go back and edit after posting; I'm on a bit of a time crunch. This takes place in an AU Camelot where Arthur lives, the knights are all alive, and Merlin is made Arthur's court sorcerer.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Words are powerful things.  As king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon knew very well how a few simple words had the power to heal or to destroy, to build or to tear down, to foster friendship or feed hatred.  He had seen words ruin lives, give hope, change the course of entire nations.  His own words had impacted his kingdom and the people around him in unprecedented ways. 

The words of a king held the potential for great and terrible things, which was why Arthur always chose his words as king so carefully.  The words of a grieving friend had just as much power for making or breaking a world, if not more so – and despite all his diplomacy, all of his training, the king of Camelot still struggled to choose his words wisely when he was hurting, particularly when he was speaking to those closest to him.  Perhaps that is the way of humanity – we allow our naturally self-destructive nature to chip away at the relationships and people that mean the most to us, and sometimes, when life spins too far out of our control, we snap, and words that we do not mean, never would mean, come flying out like an arrow from a ranger’s bow, aimed straight for the hearts of our dearest friends.

Now, Arthur Pendragon’s words had changed no one’s life more completely than his former manservant, Merlin’s.  Just a week ago, Arthur’s lips had formed the words in front of his court and Camelot that Merlin was not only to be a freeman of Camelot, but that magic was legal in the kingdom after over twenty-five years of fear and hatred for peaceful magic users, and that it was Merlin, his new Court Sorcerer, who would oversee the magical protection of Camelot, and who would ensure that magic was only used for good.  Arthur would never forget the disbelieving joy shining in Merlin’s eyes in that moment as he gazed out upon the home that finally accepted him, looked at his king and saw nothing but pride and friendship in his gaze where he had once feared fear and judgment.  It had been a staggering moment for Arthur, that weighty realization that Merlin had truly lived his life in fear of being killed because of how he was born, that the king was now witnessing a soul set free and the beginning of a new era.  Never, he told himself as he watched his Court Sorcerer wave tentatively to the gathered crowd, would he allow Merlin to go back to feeling like he was a mistake, like he was a monster, like he wasn’t enough.

He meant that oath when he made it to himself.  Unfortunately, tragedy has a way of taking our promises, even the most sacred ones, and stripping them from us like bark from a tree.  Pain and loss break us down and force us to our knees and pull hurtful words from the pits of our pain and we throw them around at those who want nothing more than to help us.  

The attack on the patrol had been unexpected and brutal.  For the first time, king and warlock had fought openly, side by side, and Arthur saw yet again how powerful his clumsy friend truly was, and his heart swelled with pride and love for the man who had stood so loyally by his side for so long.  Merlin protected his king and the knights diligently, but as so often happens in any battle, someone strayed too far from the group and fell through the cracks.  Merlin tried to save Sir Arnold, a young knight who Arthur had personally scouted, recruited, and trained as part of his initiative to bring in more loyal and talented men regardless of nobility.  Arnold had been a farmer’s son from a small village on the outskirts of Camelot, and he was a natural fighter, a brave, selfless young man who had wormed his way into the hearts of Arthur and his men.  

He was only twenty years old when he was killed in the senseless, stupid bandit attack, and though Arthur had seen Merlin fight, watched the pain at the loss fill his eyes the moment that Arnold fell, the king’s grief and loss shrouded his vision and he lashed out after the battle at the only person who might have been powerful enough to stop it and hadn’t.  He knew that Merlin had done everything he had to protect all of them, and knew that Merlin too had been close to the young knight, who had thought magic was the most amazing art in the five kingdoms and had followed Merlin around like a loyal pup, bright eyes alight for more displays of magic.  And yet, despite knowing this, Arthur’s words careened out of his grasp in his shock and pain, and he said words to Merlin that took everything his closest friend held dear and smashed it to a million pieces.  Never had Arthur regretted words he had spoken so desperately the second they left his tongue.

“I wish I had never given you a chance!  What’s the point of your magic, Merlin, if you can’t keep the people who trust in you alive?  Arnold trusted that you would keep him safe, and you let him down.  You failed him.  Maybe my father was right.  Maybe magic’s more trouble than it’s worth!”

He didn’t mean a word of it, of course.  But Arthur had just watched a young man who had had so much potential die before his eyes, cut down by a bandit’s sword – a weapon normally so useless in the face of magic.  Grief had sunk its raking claws into his flesh and spit vile lies into his ears, and he lashed out at the person who had just saved his life, and everyone else’s – Gwaine’s, Elyan’s, Lancelot’s, Percival’s, Leon’s, Arthur’s lives.  One person had gotten himself into danger that even Merlin hadn’t been fast enough to stop.  And yet, instead of focusing on the fact that Merlin had saved everyone else, instead of thinking about how Merlin would already feel guilty and devastated at his perceived failure, Arthur allowed his emotions to twist his words into something to harm, not to heal, and he watched with horror as Merlin’s tentative grasp on control and self-worth crumpled with his face.

Arthur could feel the glares of his knights on him the moment the words escaped, but he had eyes only for his Court Sorcerer, who was backing away with a horrible, broken look in his eyes.  Arthur reached out a hand as if trying to grab the hurtful things he had said, as if trying to snatch them back.  But it was too late, and he lowered his hand.  “Merlin, I–”

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur could see him trembling.  “I’m sorry, Sire,” the sorcerer said, then he turned and disappeared, quite literally, into thin air.  Arthur knew he wouldn’t be far – he wouldn’t leave them unprotected, but decided to give Merlin time before he pursued this again.  Meanwhile, he knew, his knights would not be pleased with him, and as he predicted, they made no attempt to hide their disapproval for his treatment of his closest friend.  Arthur carried Sir Arnold’s body on his own horse, and the ride back to the citadel was passed in solemn silence.

Arthur dearly missed Merlin’s company during the short but hard ride home.

***

That evening, after Arthur had personally spoken to Arnold’s poor father, had somehow found it within him to give him the news that no parent ever wanted to hear, Arthur found himself on The Balcony – the one that his father, and now Arthur himself, used to look out upon his kingdom and address his people.

For a while, he just gazed out at the citadel, at the manifestation of all that his father before him, and then he himself, with Gwen and Merlin and his knights by his sides, had built and refined.  After a while, he realized that he was no longer alone, though he could see or hear no one.  

“I can tell you’re there, Merlin,” the king said heavily.

Merlin shimmered into view to Arthur’s left.  The king glanced over, slightly amused, mostly proud, to see that Merlin had unconsciously adopted the same stance as his king – spine erect, hands folded and forearms resting on the railing, chin high and face set firm.  In that moment, Arthur felt power and nobility radiating off of the sorcerer more acutely than he ever had before.  For the first time, perhaps, he could truly feel the weight of the destiny Merlin had told him about, see the prophesied warlock Emrys stand tall with the world placed squarely on his shoulders.  Arthur felt an aching desire to take some of that weight from his friend and bear it on his own back.

Instead, because it was the only way he knew how to deal with his emotions and affection for his former servant, Arthur complained.  “It’s freaky that you can do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Turn yourself invisible.  Are you sure it’s a power you can use responsibly?”

He imagined an amused smirk on Merlin’s lips, but when he glanced over at his friend, the warlock’s face had not changed; it seemed to have been carved from stone.

And so Arthur pushed back his fear and discomfort and grief and pain and said what he truly needed to say, despite how uncomfortable it was, despite how much he felt that he had no right to even speak to Merlin in that moment, let alone request his forgiveness, his friendship.  “I cannot express how sorry I am for what I said to you today.”

This time, Merlin shrugged – Arthur caught the motion in the corner of his eye.  “You spoke the truth, Sire.”

Arthur really hated it when Merlin called him Sire .  

“No, I didn’t,” the king insisted, and when Merlin continued to stare forward, he couldn’t help himself – couldn’t stand to see Merlin shouldering a blame and a pain that Arthur had helped put there, had encouraged with thoughtless words and his own misplaced grief.  He reached out, grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, and spun him around so they were facing one another.  Merlin looked up at him, and Arthur saw why Merlin had refused to look at him.  

He was crying.

Arthur let go of his friend’s thin frame so abruptly it was as if he had been burned.  “Gods, Merlin, I’m sorry.  I had no right – no right – to make you feel like Arnold’s death was your fault.”

A tear crawled down Merlin’s face, caught on the edge of his cheekbone, and hovered there for a moment that spanned eternity.  Finally, it plunged, disappearing into the neckerchief that Merlin had insisted he keep wearing despite his new and improved title.  

“You made yourself very clear,” the warlock said in the most measured voice he could muster.  Anyone other than Arthur might have been fooled by the stoicism, but the king, who had known Merlin for so long and been through so much with him, heard the tiniest of tremors and could not recall a time that he hated himself more than this.  “And anyway,” Merlin continued.  “You were right.”  He spread his hands out wide, and magic, cerulean sparks of light that Arthur had come to associate with everything good that Merlin was, sprang to life between them.  As the king watched, the color changed from blue to purple to a dark, blood red.  “What is the point of my power if it can’t protect everyone ?”

Arthur, having been reminded so fully the power of words, chose his next ones very carefully.  “No one,” he said slowly, “not even the great Emrys , not even my oldest, dearest friend, can take care of everyone all the time.”

Another tear rambled down Merlin’s cheek, curled around his trembling chin before dropping off to join the first.  “But you were right, Arthur.  Arnold – he trusted me.”

“And he was right to.”  Arthur put every ounce of conviction he possessed into his assurance.  “I saw what happened, Merlin.  The moment he was hit, you were protecting Gwaine from a surprise attack from behind.  Your back was turned at just the wrong moment.  Arnold had wandered out of your line of sight, as well.  And you did everything to save him when he went down.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Sometimes our best isn’t enough,” Arthur reminded Merlin.  “But we have to make it enough.  We have to understand that even if we can’t protect everyone all the time, that we ourselves are still enough.  As long as we try , it has to be enough.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence, and they grieved their fallen friend.  Somewhere along the way, Arthur’s hand found its way onto the back of Merlin’s neck, and without either of them realizing it was happening, the king pulled his dear friend into an embrace, and together they wept for the good man that had been lost.

When Merlin finally drew away, his eyes red and puffy – Arthur knew his own must look the same – he managed a shaky smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but Arthur knew that for now, it would have to be enough.  “I know you didn’t mean what you said,” the warlock acknowledged.  

“But it still hurt you,” Arthur observed.  Merlin dropped his eyes.  

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does .  Merlin, I would be dead a million times over if it weren’t for you.  So would the knights.  But – but , that does not mean that if something happens to one of us that you failed.  You may be magic itself, but you’re still only one person.”

“Technically, I’m two,” Merlin argued miserably.  “And Emrys is supposed to keep everyone safe.”

Arthur studied his friend in the moonlight, then patted him kindly on the back.  “When I look at you, whether you’re doing powerful magic or tripping over a blade of grass, I don’t see Emrys and Merlin – I just see you .  And you keep me safe, you always have.  You do your job, and you do it well, Merlin.  Sometimes, people are lost, and it hurts .  But the only person you have control over is yourself.  Something I have had to learn the hard way as king is that you can’t always keep everyone safe.  You just have to do your best.”

Merlin sniffled, and he now looked like a lost child rather than a powerful sorcerer.  When he spoke, his voice was thin, weak.  “Do you still wish you’d never given me a chance?”

The question, asked sincerely, struck Arthur in the heart like an assassin’s blade.  “I never should have said that,” he said earnestly.  “And I know that I hurt you, and that you will spend years fighting those words said in a moment of pain, but I promise you that I will not rest until I have convinced you of the truth – that I have never been happier, or more proud, to have you by my side, old friend.  I’m delighted to have given you – and your magic, and our destiny – a chance.”

“Maybe you have the makings of a great king, after all,” Merlin joked, and this time, the tiniest of smiles glinted in his eyes.  He added mischievously, “Tell anyone I said that, and I’ll turn you into a toad.”

Arthur smirked.  “I don’t know, Merlin – maybe being a toad would be easier than all of this.”

They sobered at the collective thought of the friend they had lost.  Merlin scrubbed his face with the back of his hand.  After a moment of subdued silence, he took up the olive branch his king had offered him and joked, “But just think about how many things would want to kill you if you were a toad.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.  “And that’s different than now because…?”

Merlin gave a curt nod as the two, in some unspoken agreement, turned and began to make their way back into the castle.  “Fair point.”

“Either way, though,” Arthur pressed, jabbing his elbow playfully into Merlin’s side, “I’d have you to protect me, right?”

Merlin took far too long to think about his answer.

“Merlin!”

“It’s just I’m not too fond of toads,” Merlin admitted.

“Merlin!”

And side by side, king and warlock made their way through the grief and uncertainty and guilt and hurt the way they always did –

Together.

[bug-ocs]

i’d found a relationships ask meme a loooong time ago and i kinda reworked it to be more like an interview-style between danny and eli...so...here’s some really cheesy shit below the cut (AND SORRY IT’S SO DAMN LONG, RIP MOBILE)

Who made the first move and how?

Danny: He slipped me his business card while I was at work. I-it doesn’t sound all that great, but it was really smooth how he handled it, ya know?

Eli: Ah, Dansha. You flatter me. I was so nervous, I was sure you’d notice.

Danny: *laughs* See, that’s why you impress me! I didn’t notice at all! Smooth as always. And after giving me nothing but compliments the whole time? How could I say no…

Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Eli: *turns to Danny with a gentle smile*

Danny: *sighs and slowly raises his hand* Eli’s really good about getting me out of my funks, though. He always knows how to say just the right thing.

Who is the most romantic?

Danny: *immediately turns to Eli*

Eli: *laughs* Oh, come on, Dansha, give yourself a little more credit! You’ve hand-made pasta for a lavish Italian dinner! You’re romantic in your own way, lapochka.

Who can’t keep their hands to themselves?

Danny: *blushes* I-I dunno why. I’ve always been like that…

Eli: So handsy…It’s very endearing. You wouldn’t expect it from him, but he always has his hands on me!

Who says ‘I love you’ first?

Eli: Ah, that was fun, wasn’t it? I don’t have trouble saying it at all, but Dansha is a little more…reserved, so naturally I said it first.

Danny: *slaps forehead* I can’t believe I didn’t say it back at first…I knew I did, but…

Eli: *pats his shoulder* Ah, it made it all the more special when you finally did, and I knew you meant it with all your heart.

Who would you ask if y’all ever had a threesome?

Danny: *groans*

Eli: *laughs* Well, we—

Danny: We’re not talking about this. Next question.

What do y’all get up to on a night out?

Eli: Ah, we’re both such homebodies…

Danny: Yeah, a “night out” for us is like…getting dinner and then chilling at the bar for a while. Might do some shopping if it’s early in the evening.

Eli: I do enjoy watching you peruse the cooking aisle at Bed Bath and Beyond.

What do y’all like in bed?

Danny: *blushes and stammers* Wh-wh—I-I didn’t know I’d be asked these kinds of questions! I-Isn’t that a bit personal?

Eli: *sighs* I’m pretty vanilla as far as most things go, but Dansha—

Danny: Shut up!

What is the most embarrassing thing y’all have done in front of each other?

*They both groan*

Eli: Well…thankfully I got it out of the way pretty early…I was having a very intense conversation with Danica about my…um…you know, I was sorting through my feelings when we first starting dating and Dansha…he showed up about halfway through and heard a bunch of it…You’re so good at pretending you didn’t hear anything.

Danny: *clears throat* Hear what?

Eli: *smiles gently* Well, Dansha, what about you?

Danny: There’s quite a few that come to mind, but I’m still not over the ramen incident…

What do y’all hide from one another?

Danny: *scowls at Eli*

Eli: *chuckles* Yes, sometimes I hide my favorite snacks in the night stand, but I’m just doing what needs to be done! I can’t have him taking my snacks all the time! He loves his hot chips.

Danny: Then just buy two bags!

Eli: I do and you just eat both of them!

When did y’all realize y’all should get together?

Eli: Immediately. I saw him walk up to my table and I knew he was the one.

Danny: Eli…come on…

Eli: I’m serious! There was an angelic glow around you from the ceiling lights and everything. I don’t think I’d ever fallen that hard before.

Danny: *hiding his flushed face in his hands*

Well, Danny? What about you?

Danny: I, uh—y-y’know, I’m kinda…it takes a little longer for things like that with me a-and while we were definitely dating, I had this awful thought in the back of my head that he was just kidding, a-and I knew! I knew he liked me because he said it and did things that made me believe it! But the first time I really believed it was when I cooked a meal for him. *He blushes and hides his face behind his shoulder* No one had ever been that enthusiastic about my cooking before, and…I dunno, it sounds cheesy but it just felt like a little sign, you know? A little reassurance that we were a good match, I guess.

When one of y’all has a cold, what does the other do?

Eli: It’s pretty obvious, no? Dansha pampers me with all my favorite foods. Hand-cooked by the pro chef himself!

Danny: Ah, Eli knows better than to try to hand-make ramen—which, of course, is the only logical thing to get me when I’m sick—so he always goes out of his way to stop by Aitsumoto, no matter how long the line is… It’s quite sweet…

When y’all watch a film what do you choose and why? Who gets the final vote?

Danny: If it were up to me, we’d be watching cooking shows on YouTube, but we watch those every night anyway… I’m not a big movie buff, so I usually let Eli decide, and we always somehow end up watching cheesy romcoms from the late 2000s.

Eli: It’s when they peaked! You can’t get better than The Proposal!

When y’all fight, how do you make up?

Eli: *waves his hand dismissively* Oh, easily. I just have to bring him ramen.

Danny: He's not wrong…but likewise, I just bake him croissants. They have a tendency to be my pastry of choice for metaphorical olive branches, and he knows how much work goes into them.

Where do y’all go on your first date?

Danny: Ah, we went to Aitsumoto…I’d been hanging out at the bar for a few weeks and finally worked up the nerve to actually ask him to hang out when neither of us were on the clock.

Eli: I thought it was very sweet of him to take me to his favorite restaurant. Food means a lot to him, and I felt like I got to witness something intimate, watching him eat the famed ramen he always talked about.

Danny: *hides his face and groans* God, I’m so used to going by myself. I can’t believe I ate like that in front of you. Especially when we’d just started dating!

Eli: *laughs* I felt like I was intruding!

Danny: It’s a wonder you still wanted to go anywhere in public with me after that.

Eli: *whispers behind his hand* It was actually very cute.

Where does your first kiss happen?

Eli: *dreamily* His apartment…he made such a fantastically romantic meal, all from scratch!

So, you kissed him first, Eli?

Danny: *clears throat* Ah, n-no…that was, uh…that was me…

Eli: *chuckles* Give him a heartfelt compliment, and he’ll do any—

Danny: O-okay, next?

Where do y’all first have sex?

Danny: *groans, head in hands* Please, I didn’t know we’d be talking about—

Eli: My apartment, this time. A little bit more privacy, you know—?

Danny: No more! I’m not talking about this anymore!

Why do y’all fight?

Eli: Usually over stupid miscommunications. I have a tendency to shut down when I’m upset, and Dansha isn’t great at using his words sometimes.

Danny: Yeah…guilty as charged. Usually once the emotion dies down, one of us tries to come at it from a different angle and we both realize we’re being stupid.

Why do y’all need to have a serious chat?

Eli: It’s…usually about Vice stuff. I’ll notice Dansha isn’t acting himself, or I’ll say something that is unintentionally antagonizing.

Danny: We’ve got it down to a science at this point. Gen’s helped us a ton, too. And Eli knows I’m not great at…talking about stuff, so I’m really thankful for his patience.

Eli: *kisses the back of his hand* You’re worth every second, lapochka.

Why do your friends get annoyed with y’all?

Danny: That! What he just did! His cheesy little—augh, God! *groans into his hands*

Eli: *shrugs his shoulders with a smile* I mean every word, but it’s still quite fun to dote on him in front of his friends. They say they can’t stand it, but I know they think it’s cute, too

Why do y’all get jealous?

Eli: Well, I don’t get jealous…*turns to Danny*

Danny: *throws his hands up* He’s a hot bartender! How can I not be jealous when every goddamn customer flirts with him?! God, sometimes I swear he milks it just to see me get riled up!

Eli: *mouths* I do.

Why do y’all fall a little bit more in love?

Eli: It might seem like a cop-out answer at this point, but watching him cook. All the cute little facial expressions he makes to himself when he’s thinking or concentrating. It’s all very endearing. I can taste the love he puts into his dishes, especially when he cooks just for me. I feel like I see a very real part of him not many people get the chance to, and every time I see it, I fall a bit more in love.

Danny: That, what he’s doing now. He’s so open and honest and affectionate, and I’m not used to that. He’s so selfless and has such a giving heart, and…I just feel so lucky I get to be with him. He…makes me want to love myself. He makes me want to be a better person!

Why does it work between y’all?

Danny: He’s willing to put the work in with me. Loving him is easy, but I know I can be—

Eli: I’ve told you a million times, Dansha. Loving you comes naturally to me, and if there’s any effort involved, you’re worth every bit of it.

[anthonyed]

Part Two: Nice Fingers

Relationships: Bucky/Tony, Bucky & Steve

"Ow!" Steve whines, clutching his head. Baby blue eyes wide like a puppy and Bucky scoffs at him.

He's not fooling Bucky any more than he'd already done.

"That hurt," Stevie pouts, gaze following Bucky who stalks to the kitchen for a drink.

His puppy eyes never falter even as Bucky glares at him over the glass of water. Eventually, Bucky says, "Quit it, you look ugly."

That gets him a venomous look.

Helping himself to the rest of the bag of chips, Bucky plops down next to him and keeps his eyes carefully fixed on the TV.

He feels Steve's stare at the side of his head, burning a hole, but he's too determined in his will. Not to mention, he'd dealt with this since back when his brain was still a baby bundle of neurons making new memories so there's that.

"Buck," Steve calls warningly, voice levelled low and rumbly.

Bucky soldiers on, munching on his chips. Frankly, he doesn't even know what he's watching.

Even a super soldier powered kick to his thigh doesn't move him.

Until Stevie brings out the big gun. (Because he knows Bucky's got a thing for Tony and he's also a little piece of shit.)

"I'm gonna tell Tony it's his fault."

And that's when Bucky lunges for him.

The chip bag falls, spewing its remain onto the floor, crunching under two scuffling super soldiers' feet.

"You- can't. Tell. Him. That!" Bucky, huffs and puffs from the headlock Steve's got him in.

"Why not?" The punk asks, equally winded from all the force he's exerting to imprison Bucky. "Did he do something?"

"He didn't. Do - Fuck! LEt me OFF!"

"No!"

"Fuck. OFF!"

"Tell me what happened."

"NO!"

"Yes."

"No -"

"Okay. Wrong timing. Didn't even come in. Bye-bye." A new voice interrupts and they both spill out onto the floor catching the tail end of Tony's back disappearing at the door.

"Wait! TONY!" Bucky scrambles, throwing a particularly vile look at Steve before bolting out after him.

He catches Tony just before the elevator door closes.

Wedging his metal hand in between them out of pure desperation (and dumbfuckery, according to Steve when he hears about it later).

He's panting, wild-eyed and peculiarly giddy as he rasps out, "Hold on."

Tony looks at him like he's a ghost descended from the ninth realm.

For a moment, Bucky has this insane fear that he's looking like a disaster from four days of no-shower. And then he remembers that he'd just showered and that immediately eases his mind.

Maybe Stevie is not so much of a little shit.

(Or not. That thought is forever for reconsideration according to future events. There's no need to make hasty decisions here -)

"You wanna come in?" Tony jerks his head to his side, "Or you want me to come out? But you're blocking my path so...,"

Bucky immediately retracts his hand, "Sorry."

He thinks about asking Tony to come back to his apartment but the image of Steve and his dumb face propels him into the elevator instead.

It's kind of awkward. The elevator door closes and Tony taps thrice at his penthouse button. Then he turns to Bucky, clears his throat and asks, "Anywhere in particular?"

"No preferences," Bucky replies stiffly, internally screaming at his own words.

No preferences? Jesus Christ. What is he? Heading to some government office?

But Tony doesn't comment on it. Which is... suspicious. Because Bucky expected Tony to at least snort. But -

He sneaks a look at the man. Abruptly snapping his attention elsewhere when their eyes meet.

His face heats up. His neck feels warm and his palms are getting clammy.

What the fuck. Bucky thinks to himself.

This is not how they roll.

They're easy and comfortable. Each snarky commeny met by another equally smart one. They laugh and they joke and they are shameless.

Yet, here they are. Awkward.

God, it's painful. Bucky doesn't know what to say and by the way Tony's fingers tap, tap and tap against his thigh, neither does he.

Eventually, the elevator opens and it's the workshop.

Bright, glass-walled, blue tinted, metallic and sleek workshop that is Tony's space and has somehow, in the span of those slow six months he's been brought out of HYDRA's clasp, become Bucky's space too.

A shared comfort man-cave.

Without the stench and yucky things. But all fun and - Bucky breathes in, eyes landing on Dum-E at the near corner - a home.

Tony clears his throat and Bucky realises neither of them has stepped out of the elevator.

But in that moment, the rush of warmth from his sudden realisation only pushes him to round up on Tony in the elevator.

Heart half guilty in his chest for making Miss Fri work unnecessarily, he asks, "Would you step out with a fella?"

Tony, in all fairness, blinks at him.

Bucky waits, shrivelled patience trying to shush his heart into a calmer beat.

Finally when Tony opens his mouth (not that it has been decades, just a few seconds have passed-) both the words and voice that come out are not his.

"You're so horrible at this. I'm ashamed."

Bucky groans, letting his body fall against the wall and his head roll away from Tony.

"Friday, cut off the video feed and tell Spangles to fuck off, please. In those exact words." Tony orders flatly.

Bucky curses Steve and his unborn children and grandchildren and great-great-great - (you get it) in his head. Silently.

"You were saying?" Tony asks, softer.

More approachable and - if Bucky would stop doubting himself for a second, he'd notice - nervous.

What Bucky took from that though, is that this is his second chance and he is not gonna mess it up.

Squaring his shoulders, he straightens up, faces Tony in the eyes and asks without a stutter;

"Would you step out with me?"