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viking-raider · 4 years ago

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The Belle and the Bane - Chapter II

Summary: Living with the Bane is turbulent, at best. But, you do your best to weather the storm of his moods.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 8,916

Warnings: PG-13 - Fantasy!AU, Dark!AU, Bane!Henry, Dark!Henry, Belle!Reader, Healer!Reader, Curses, Language, Angst, Light Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Very Minor Character Death, Multiple Personalities(?), Possessive/Controlling Behavior

Inspiration: My warped version of Beauty and the Beast.

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long! Muse was spazzing from this fic to that fic and this idea to that idea. You know how it goes! Forever and always, thank you to the amazing @wondersofdreaming for being my beta, brainstorm partner and encouraging me! Tell me what you think!

You woke that morning with the bright sunlight streaming into your room, as Damien threw the curtains over your windows open, letting the new day stream in, brightening the remaining darkness out of the corners of your room.

“Good morning, Ms.” He grinned at you, standing at the foot of your bed.

“Morning.” You yawned back, sitting up.

“I have breakfast ready for you.” He said, motioning to the table in the corner of your room, by one of the windows. “Also, I have some clothing coming in for you, later this morning. It's not your full wardrobe, but it's a start.” He smiled, sounding happy and chipper.

“Thank you, Damien.” You smiled at him, getting out of bed and pulled on your robe, sitting at the table and looking over your breakfast.

Nodding his head, Damien exited your room and traveled down to Henry's room, finding his master in a similar position you were, but instead of his room being bright with the morning sun, shining off the calm waves of the ocean. Henry's room was nearly pitch black, minus the raging fireplace and a few candles in large candelabras.

“Morning, Sir.” Damien said softly, nodding his head at Henry. “I hope you slept well.”

Henry took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, taking a gulp of his tea. “As usual, Damien.” He sighed. “Other than that girl you went behind my back and allowed here.” He added, with a lifted brow.

“I simply thought that some companionship would do you some good, Henry.” Damien replied, daring to use his master's first name. “Other than myself.” He added, as Henry opened his mouth.

“What companionship can she give me, Damien?” Henry asked, setting his teacup down and rubbed at his tired face. “Other than physical.” He added with a huff.

“Perhaps you should try and find out.” He replied, making Henry's messy bed. “She loves to read! She's almost completely read 'Great Expectations' and she's only been here a day. I know how much you like to read.” He explained, smiling over at him, his eyes glittering.

“I haven't read a book, in a long time.” Henry countered, his blue eyes darkening at his servant.

“Maybe.” Damien grinned, unbothered. “She can read to you.”

“I don't need to be read too. I can read on my own.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I'm not some invalid.” He growled, his body tensing.

“Of course not. It was only a suggestion, she has a sweet voice, was all I meant.” Damien replied, softly. “Give her a week, Henry. If you don't find her presence wanting by then, I'll send her back home to her father.”

The muscles of Henry's jaw flexed as he contained his fluctuating emotions. “Fine.” He huffed, angrily, then winced at the loud sounding of the door bell. “Who could this possibly be!” He barked, looking at Damien.

“I had a bit of a wardrobe made up for her.” Damien replied, finishing Henry's bed. “She only came with what she was wearing, and I'm sure that wouldn't have met your meticulous standards.”

“Spending my money on her, Damien.”

“Would you rather her look a peasant, or be nude?” Damien countered, lifting a brow at Henry.

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes, turning his back on him and staring at the dancing flame of the candle on his table. Damien half smirked at Henry, and left his room, going down the stairs to the third ringing of the door bell, and pulled it open, greeting the visitors. There were two men, holding several boxes, swinging the door open wide, Damien allowed them to enter the castle and showed them up the stairs to your room. You stood as your door opened and Damien entered with the two men, directing them where to put the boxes, then shooed them out.

“Your new clothing.” He grinned at you, pulling open the boxes and removing several articles, laying them out on your bed. “I do hope you like them. I wasn't sure what colors you would like, so I tried to keep them as neutral as possible.” He explained, pulling out more and more things from the boxes.

You stood beside him as he laid them out, surprised by the expensive quality of the fabrics and their current fashion. They were all so beautiful, you had never seen anything like them. Looking them over, you picked out the outfit you wished to wear for the day, and Damien put the rest in the empty walk-in closet. He smiled as he watched you stand in the full length mirror in the corner of the room, looking at yourself from every side and playing with the flow of the fabric of the dress you wore.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you, standing behind you with a smile.

“Thank you.” You smiled back, your cheeks warm.

Henry groaned, stepping out onto his balcony, needing a breath of fresh air, when he saw a shadow move in the neglected garden below. Frowning, he leaned forward on the oxidized railing of his balcony for a closer look. He saw the shadow again, before you rounded an overgrown hedge, your fingers lightly touching the leaves. He watched you as you explored the ruined garden maze he had played in as a child, with his brothers. Biting his lip, Henry turned and went back into his room, throwing open his bedroom door and storming down the stairs, to the back garden.

“Christ.” You gasped, running straight into Henry, like he was a brick wall. “You nearly scared the life out of me.” You panted.

Henry grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you away from him. “What are you doing out here?” He demanded, glaring down at you.

“Enjoying some fresh air and sunlight.” You replied, staring up at him, your heart pounding. “Is there an issue with that, like wandering around the house at night?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

His hands squeezed your arms, before letting go of you as you gasped, realizing he had been hurting you. “No.” He gulped, relaxing. “But, you do need to be careful, if you turn the wrong direction, you'll end up stepping off the cliff.”

“Why would you design a garden to do that?” You asked, frowning up at him.

“It wasn't.” Henry replied, looking over the cracked and overgrown path you stood on. “There was a very bad storm, several years ago, and part of the cliff gave way, taking the back portion of the garden and a gazebo with it.” He explained to you, brushing his wind blown curls out of his face, then turned away from you, disappearing around a corner.

Blinking a couple of times, you followed after him, turning two corners, before you found him again, standing several feet away from the edge. Henry smiled at you over his shoulder, shocking you with the transformation it gave him, both physically and emotionally, he felt less threatening and harsh. You moved to stand next to him, a rush of strong ocean wind blowing against you so much, you felt the, surprisingly, gentle touch of Henry's hand rest on your back, keeping you steady as you both stood there.

“Damien said you've almost finished reading the Great Expectations.” Henry said, after a long pause of silence.

“I have.” You nodded, biting the corner of your lip. “Charles Dickens is one of my favorite authors.” You confessed to him.

“Mine as well.” Henry chuckled, looking down at you. “I've thoroughly enjoyed 'The Old Curiosity Shop'. I've read it numerous times.” He explained to you, looking out over the ocean. “But, it's been some time since I've read anything, but a financial or business report.”

“Why is that?” You asked, glancing up at him, a soft frown on your face.

“Because, life gets in the way.” He replied, his face hardening. “You should go back inside.” He said, moving his hand from the small of your back to your shoulder; turning you away from the cliff. “It's getting much too cold for you out here.”

“And you?” You replied, lifting a brow at him.

“I'll be fine.” Henry answered, in a short tone. “Go.” He barked, pointing back to the house.

Biting your lip, you nodded your head to him and wound your way back through the garden maze, finding your way back through the open veranda doors. You only whiled away most of the morning, before boredom took you, unaccustomed to just sitting around all day. So, you pulled on a coat and went downstairs, you could hear Henry and Damien's voices through the closed study door as you showed yourself out, going back down to the village to check on your father and see if any of the villagers needed you.

“Where have you gone?” Damien asked, appearing in your doorway as you removed your coat and draped it over the back of a chair. “I came to bring you your lunch, and you were gone.”

“I went down to the village.” You replied, turning to him. “To check on my father, and one of the young wives down there was in the middle of giving birth, so I helped her.” You explained to him, unapologetic for leaving the castle without notice, you weren't their prisoner, and refused to be treated as one.

“Mr. Cavill is quite unhappy about it.” Damien replied, pressing his lips together.

“I'm sure, Mr. Cavill can get over it.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. “He is a grown man, is he not?”

Damien narrowed his eyes at you and took a deep breath. “Well, be it as it may. If you're to leave the castle, please inform me, or I'm bound to worry you've fallen off a cliff or something.”

“I will.” You told him, your voice tight. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“That's a question I should be asking you.” He countered, a soft smirk tugging on his lip.

“No, I don't need anything from you, Damien.” You sighed, you really just wanted to soak in a hot tub of water, your back aching from bending over as you helped birth the young woman's babe into the world.

“There's nothing you can do for me, either.” He replied, nodding his head. “Yet.” He added, softly, turning and showing himself out of your room.

Sighing and rubbing at your face, you turned towards the bathroom door, stripping off your clothing as you went. You melted into the hot water, up to your neck, eyes falling shut as it slowly eased away your aches and pains, taking your worries and stress away with it.

“If I were to be stuck here for the rest of my life, the only thing I would get used to, is this glorious hot water.” You mumbled yourself, drifting off.

You were awoken in the middle of the night, shaken by your shoulders and the frantic calling of your name. You batted your hands at the ones holding and shaking you, whimpering as you were drawn out from your peaceful slumber.

“What?” You rasped, in a sleepy voice. “What!” You barked, jerking up in bed. “Damien, what in the world! You're acting as if the house is on fire.” You sighed, brushing your hair out of your face.

“It's not, is it?” You added, face snapping to your open bedroom door.

“No, no! The house is intact.” He assured you, no less frantic and antsy.

“Then, what is the rush?”

“It's Henry, he's terribly unwell, and you are a healer, are you not?” He asked in a jumble of words.

“I am.” You nodded, frowning and throwing back your blankets. “What is wrong with him?” You asked, getting out of bed and taking your robe as Damien held it out to you.

“I'm unsure, I went to check on him in his study, he always works very late.” He explained, leading the way down the hall. “He was quite pale, and I'm sure he's thrown up in the bin.”

Your frown deepened with every description Damien gave you of Henry's ailment, your brain shuffling through dozens of different possible illnesses based on them. When you and Damien finally reached the ground floor study Henry spent a great deal of his time in, you found him lying on the sofa, an arm slung over his pale and sweaty face. You knelt down on the rug beside him on the sofa, gently resting your hand on his elbow.

“Henry.” You whispered softly.

“What do you want?” Henry growled, but it sounded more like a pained whimper.

“I've asked her to look you over, Sir.” Damien replied, hovering from the other side of the couch, his face creased with concern and worry. “She's a healer down in the village.” He explained, chewing on his lip.

Henry huffed, but didn't remove his arm. You frowned up at Damien, then stood, going around the couch to whisper in his ear.

“Give me a moment with him.” You said and tilted your head towards the door.

Damien looked between Henry on the couch and the study door, but nodded his head and went out, quietly closing the door behind him. Rounding the couch again, you took up the fire poker and pushed the burning logs apart until they were nothing but glowing embers, then brought the burning candlestick on Henry's desk over to the small end table at Henry's feet on the couch, plunging the study into near darkness.

“You can take your arm away from your face now, Henry.” You whispered softly, kneeling back down beside him. “The light shouldn't bother your eyes so much.” You told him, tilting your head at him, having an idea of what was bothering him.

Henry slowly removed his arm from over his face, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the low light. His handsome face was quite pale, his eyes were red and damp, his curls plastered to his sweaty forehead. He carefully turned his head towards you, narrowing his eyes at you.

“How long have you had migraines?” You asked him, lifting a brow at him.

“Since I suffered that illness.” He replied, gulping thickly. “They're crippling.”

“I can see that.” You replied, glancing over at the waste bin by his desk, where he'd thrown up. “Come on.” You sighed, standing up. “Let's get you off to bed. You need to rest.”

“I have work to do.” Henry protested, slowly sitting up.

“It can wait, Mr. Cavill.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “If you don't rest, you'll end up throwing up more, and probably passing out. Neither is good for your business or your health.” You protested, planting your hands on your hips.

“So, up you go.”

Henry looked up at you, narrowing his eyes at you. Both of you stood there for a long moment, staring each other down, before Henry growled and stood up. Smirking, you moved around the couch, taking up the candlestick and opened his study door. You and Henry went up the stairs to his room, you paused, resting your free hand on his thick arm as he swayed outside his door for a moment. Henry squeezed his throbbing eyes shut, reaching out blindly to open his door.

You set the candlestick aside and guided him to bed, pulling back the blankets and made him sit down, before he fell. Frowning at him, then sighing, you bent down and pulled off his slippers, setting them aside. Henry watched you through half-lidded eyes as you fussed over him, helping him remove his shirt, then piled up his pillows, so he could rest back on them, and covered him with his blankets. Moving away from him, you went into his bathroom, soaking a washcloth in cold water and brought it back to him.

“Put this over your eyes, it'll help some of the discomfort.” You told him, holding the washcloth out to him.

“As you wish.” He smirked, his tone teasing as he pushed his head back and draped the cloth over his eyes with a moan.

“How is your stomach?” You asked him, watching him gulp thickly.

“Like a raging ocean.” He replied, licking his lips and fisting his blankets, then sat up suddenly, his face going pale as a ghost.

You reacted quickly, picking up the bin by his table and thrust it out to him, just in time for him to throw up, wrenching hard. Henry whimpered as the wrenching agitated his throbbing and pulsing skull. He looked so weak and harmless, like a small boy trapped in the body of a man. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you used the damp cloth to wipe at his sweaty face, the scent of vomit was something you had grown used to as a healer. Sighing, you set the now warm cloth on his nightstand, chewing on your bottom lip as you regarded him and thought about something that could relieve the pain of his migraine and the discomfort of his stomach.

“Do you have any willow trees nearby?” You asked, frowning at him, as a solution brewed in your mind.

“Of course, what kind of question is that?” Henry huffed, shaking his head at you, then instantly regretted it. “The whole county is known for them, there's three in the graveyard alone.” He told you, gripping the waste bin, as another wave of nausea hit him.

“Good.” You nodded, getting up. “I'll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Henry demanded, as you rushed out of his room.

“Is Henry all right?” Damien asked, he had been lingering in the hall.

“He's got an acute migraine.” You told him, rushing up to your room to pull on a shawl. “I need to retrieve some things to help lessen his pain and the discomfort of his stomach. But, I'll also need hot water and a tea set.” You told him, pulling on your shawl and grabbed the sharp letter opener on top of your dresser, before running downstairs and out the front door, into the darkness.

You knew where the Bane's family graveyard was, you had to pass the narrow path that led to it on your way up the castle. The air was bitterly cold and windy, pushing off the ocean and mixing with the late autumn night. The spooky shadows of the trees that lined the path to the graveyard were frightening, but you were far too focused to allow yourself to become scared and paranoid about them. It took some doing, in the dark of the quarter moon, but you found one of the willow trees, near an overgrown, dark stone mausoleum, the names of Marianne and Colin Cavill carved on the sealed doors. You removed the sharp letter opener from the inside pocket of your robe and started cutting into the bark of the willow tree, collecting enough to fill one of your robe pockets, then started searching around it roots, running your fingers through the leafy tops of small plants, until you found the second thing you were looking for, mint. You knew you could find it here, it was how the village of Mintwillow had gotten its name, after all.

Pockets full with what you needed, you raced back up to the castle and into Henry's room. Damien had gotten everything you asked for together. You dumped your pockets out on the table beside them and started breaking up the bark into smaller bits with the mint and dumped them into the boiling water of the teapot.

“What is all of that?” Damien asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Willow's bark and mint.” You replied, stirring the concoction. “Do you have any honey?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him. “Willow's bark can be rather bitter, so the sweetness of the honey will help with that, as well as coat his throat, after all the throwing up.”

“Certainly.” He nodded, rushing back down to the kitchen for the honey pot.

“Thank you.” You smiled, pouring some of the tea into a cup, then adding a drizzle of honey into it.

“You can go, Damien.” Henry rasped, his voice now sore from throwing up and wrenching. “I'm sure she can care for me now.” He said, his eyes on you.

Damien looked between you both, then nodded his head, excusing himself. Satisfied with his tea, you carefully brought it to him.

“Sip it slowly.” You told him as he raised it to his lips, then chuckled. “It's not meant to taste good, just to help.”

“It better.” He huffed, taking another sip of it. “Or I'm going to be very angry.”

You smiled at him, unphased by his mood swings. “I've given this tea to many people over the years, and it's never failed me.” You assured him. “But, I should let you rest. Sleep is the third best thing for a migraine like this.” You told him, turning away.

Henry's hand shot out, gripping your wrist and stopping you in your tracks. “Stay.” He said softly, his tired and glassy eyes staring holes into you. “Just for a little while.” He whispered, so quietly, you weren't sure he had said anything.

“Perhaps, you could read to me? It helps me sleep.” He added, glancing at a book sitting on his nightstand.

You swallowed slowly, surprised by his request, as the heat of his hand wrapped around your wrist, pushed out the last of the cold that had settled into you, when you were outside. This was a side of him you hadn’t expected, and you weren’t sure how it made you feel; perhaps conflicted from when you experienced his normally callous mood. Licking your lips, you nodded your head at him and Henry felt relieved that you agreed to stay with him, it gave some deep part of him a great amount of comfort, so he slowly let your wrist go. You grabbed a chair from his table and brought it to the side of his bed, picking up his book and saw it was 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'.

Clearing your throat, you flipped the book open to its marker and started reading at the top of the page. Henry relaxed against his pillows, sipping the rest of the tea you had made him, before setting the empty cup aside and closed his eyes, focusing on the soft and easy rhythm of your voice as you read aloud to him.

Henry woke several long hours later, his head still throbbing, but not as badly as it had been for the last few days. He opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep from them, when he noticed you, book open in your lap, and sound asleep. You had also fallen asleep, while reading to him. Henry smirked and got out of bed, carefully setting the book in your lap aside, and gingerly lifted you into his arms, your head lulling gently against his shoulder as he carried you out of his room.

“Good mo-”

“Sshhh.” Henry shushed Damien, angrily, as he appeared on the stairs. “Don't wake her.” He growled, in an almost protective manner, then tenderly shushed you as you whimpered and shifted restlessly in his arms, hugging you closer to his chest.

“My apologies, sir.” Damien replied demurely, moving out of Henry's way and bowing his head, to hide the smirk on his face as Henry went by.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Henry carried you up to your own room, pushing the door open with his foot and delicately laid you down, your blankets still thrown back from when Damien woke you up to tend to him. He stood above you for a long moment, after covering you up, watching you snuggle and melt into the mattress and pillows, a faint and sweet smile on your lips. But, he quickly turned away as his heart started to pound and his chest hurt, like he'd been punched by a giant.

Leaving you to sleep in your room, Henry returned to his own and felt his head start to throb again.

You woke just before noon and found yourself back in your own bed, figuring Damien had brought you back to bed. Rising and stretching your stiff body from bending over Henry and sitting in a chair all night, you got out of bed and dressed, just as Damien came in, carrying a tray.

“Oh, you're awake!” He grinned, setting the tray on your table, lunch no doubt, since you had slept through breakfast.

“Yes.” You replied, stifling a yawn into your fist as you sat down at the table. “Thank you for bringing me back to my room.” You added, munching on a bit of your food.

“Oh, I didn't.” Damien replied, making your bed. “Henry did.” He explained, seeing your confused expression.

“Henry did?” You replied, slowly setting your teacup down.

“Yes, you fell asleep, while you tended to him and when he woke this morning, he found you sound asleep on a chair.” He explained, fluffing your pillows. “So, he carried you back up here, to bed.” He said it all, like it was the most normal and natural of things.

“Oh.” You gulped, picking your tea back up and taking a large gulp of it. “Is he any better?” You croaked, keeping your eyes on your food.

“He was quite well, until a few hours ago.” Damien frowned, collecting your dirty clothing. “Seems his headache has re-surged.”

“Oh no.” You cooed, frowning over at him, very concerned. “I should check on him at some point today.”

“It could do him some good.” He agreed with you.

After breakfast, you dressed and found Henry hunched over his desk in his study on the ground floor. Even standing out in the hall and peeking through the cracked open study door, you could see the pain Henry was clearly in. He rubbed at his temples at regular intervals as he frowned at the report in his hand, eyes narrowed at the black lettering. Frowning and pressing your lips together, you turned on your heels and went into the kitchen, where Damien had taken the herbs you used the night before to help Henry's migraine.

Finding and filling a kettle, you set it on the stove to boil, preparing the cup of mint and willow's bark, with a drizzle of honey and a splash of milk. Smiling, you set the steaming cup onto a small plate, carefully carrying it down the hall, and into Henry's study.

“What are you doing?” Henry asked, sounding annoyed, as he looked up from the report he had been staring at for nearly an hour.

“Damien said, your migraine returned.” You replied, carefully setting the cup down on a clean corner of his desk. “So, I brewed you another cup to help.” You told him, smiling at him sweetly.

Henry set down his neglected report and stared at the steaming cup of tea, the muscles of his jaw flexing as his mind roiled with a kaleidoscope of thoughts, before huffing and picking his report back up. “You can leave.” He hissed, not looking back at you, with a cold aura rolling off of him.

“Um..” You floundered, then let out a soft sigh and excused yourself from his study.

You made it halfway up the staircase to your room before a wave of tears hit you, no one had been so rude and cold to you as Henry was, and you had encountered some stubborn people in your practice. Taking a moment to get a hold of yourself, you continued upstairs to your room. But, it was an hour or two later that Damien appeared in your doorway with a note in his hand.

“This came from the village for you, Ms.” He said, holding it out to you.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking the note from him and breaking the seal. “Oh no.” You gasped, reading the note.

The note was in your father's own hand, but wrote about one of your patients who suffered from a chronic illness, telling you that he had turned for the worst and you needed to hasten down to the village before it was too late. In a flustered rush, you grabbed your cloak and the bag you kept your herbs in and rushed down to the front door, your heart pounding and mind racing, praying that you made it back to the village in time.

“Where are you going?” Henry's voice boomed, aided by the echo of the vast foyer.

“One of my patients in the village needs me.” You replied, startled and out of breath.

“No.” He snapped, shaking his head, rage burning in his blue eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“What!” You snapped, gobsmacked.

“You heard me.” Henry hissed at you, his body tense. “You aren't to leave this house, unless you have my say.” He told you, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “And you do not. So, go back to your room, this instant.”

You stared at Henry wide eyed, shocked and dumbfounded. How could he refuse to allow you to go down to the village to tend to one of your patients, one so critically ill. Surely, being someone that has lost loved ones to such a crippling illness would understand that need and haste of trying to cure someone with something so life altering. Who did he think he was? Your warden, keeping you in this dark and oppressing castle, cut off from those you loved, with only his hot and cold tempers and Damien the rest of your life.

“No.” You replied, your voice a mixture of stubborn defiance, shock and outlined in fear of what he would do with your disobedience. “He'll die.”

“Then, he can die and you'll have one less obligation.” Henry answered, his voice cold as ice. “Now, do as I told you.”

You gulped, watching him practically grow with his rage and impatience towards you, and your hand still resting on the handle of the front door, gripped it tighter. Henry saw the small action, like a wolf seeing the small twitch of a rabbit's body, readying itself to bolt from the reach of its mighty jaws. You had the door open by the time he took a step towards you and felt the brush of his fingers against the fabric of your cloak as you bolted out the door and into the bright light of the early afternoon sun.

Running several yards, and expecting Henry to catch you at any moment, you realized he wasn't and paused to look back towards the castle. You saw the outline of his tall frame standing just before the threshold of the doorway, unmoving to dash after you and drag you back inside. Henry just stood there, fuming with rage and shaking with something far more complex as he battled to go after you. But, after several long moments, he disappeared, the door slamming shut with an echo.

“Such a strange man.” You panted to yourself, before turning back down the path towards the village, wasting no more time to reach your patient.

“Sir?” Damien frowned, hearing the crash of the front door slamming closed from the other side of the house, and came running to make sure nothing nefarious had occurred.

“Damn that girl!” Henry roared, storming into his study.

“Has something happened to her?” Damien asked, alarmed for your welfare.

“Not yet.” Henry replied, angrily pacing the room. “She's left, after I explicitly told her not too.”

Damien's brow creased for a moment, then it dinged in his mind. “Her note, of course.” He nodded, smiling to himself.

“What note?” Henry growled, stopping his pacing to look at his servant.

“She received a note about twenty minutes ago, from her father.” He explained to his master. “One of her patients suffers from a chronic illness. Her mother cared for him before her death, and she's picked up the patients, in her wake.”

“You read the note?”

“I might have glanced at it.” He replied, smiling softly. “But, the rest of it, she told me herself.” He added, he had grown quite fond of you.

“Why didn't you tell me she received it?” Henry hissed, his lips pressed into an angry line.

“I didn't want to bother you.” Damien gulped, biting the corner of his own lip. “I know you've been very busy lately. Especially after one of the ships go-”

“I want any correspondents she gets, I don't care who they come from!” Henry barked at him. “I'll determine whether or not she'll receive them or not. Do you understand?”

“Of course, sir.” Damien nodded, nervously licking his lips.

“Clear this away.” Henry huffed, waving a hand at the tea cup still on his desk as he sat back down.

“Right away, sir.” He rushed over and picked the empty cup up.

“Close the door.” Henry called as Damien started to leave.

Nodding his head, Damien closed the door behind him and took the cup into the kitchen to be washed. With the door closed, Henry leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temples. His migraine had gone away after drinking the last cup of tea you had made him, but now it started to come back, his anger with you disobeying him and leaving the house, and him not going after you, to bring you back.

“Why didn't I bring her back?” He growled at himself, pressing his fingers harder into his temples. “Why couldn't I go after her?” He panted, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing pain in his skull.

You sighed as you stepped out of a hut in the village, exhausted from the run to the village and the struggle to help your patient. A warm hand rested on your shoulder and you didn't need to see who it was, before you turned into the warm body it belonged to, enveloped by iron hardened arms that clasped you to an even warmer chest.

“You did your best, little lamb.” Your father's rough voice whispered into your ear, his hot breath warming the cove of your cold nipped ear. “You did your best.”

“Ma would have done better.” You mumbled into his tunic.

He smiled into your hair and brushed it out of your face, before cupping your cheeks in his calloused hands. “Your mother would have done all the same things, little lamb. She taught you well.” He assured you, before gently kissing your forehead. “I should walk back with you, it's getting too dark for you to walk alone.” He said, letting you go.

“I don't want to go back, papa.” You frowned, not willing to let him go. “Please, don't make me go back to him.” You begged, looking up into his eyes. “He's so cold and mean to me.”

“Has he tried to wrong you?” Your father frowned, a flash of anger in his eyes.

“No. Thankfully. But, all I do is sit in my room and read or stare out the window. The only person I have to talk to, other than myself, is his servant, Damien, who is a very sweet and attentive person, it's just..” You paused, your chin dropping to your chest as tears started to overwhelm you.

“It's lonely.” You sniffled.

“I know how you feel, my sweet.” He sighed, huddling you back up into his arms. “It's lonely for me as well. But, things will get better, he'll warm up to you, once you work your sweet charm on him.” He chuckled. “I've seen you melt the icy heart of so many, I doubt Mr. Cavill will be immune to it.”

“I don't know, Papa.” You sighed, fruitlessly dabbing at your tears. “He's not like anyone I have ever met before.”

Your father's roar of laughter echoed in the growing misty darkness. “The man is the richest in the county and among the elitist rich in the country, lamb. He's got airs and graces, self entitlement, ego and everything at his fingertips. He's spent his life with people at his beck and call, doing his bidding and obeying him.” He chuckled. “You've never dealt with a rich person before. But, you'll adapt, you are so much like your mother in that aspect. You are strong, independent, intelligent and like a red hot piece of steel coming out of the forge, capable of shaping and molding yourself to fit into any situation.”

“You just need to show him that.”

“So, you think I should go back to him and his dreary castle?” You frowned up at him, your stomach in knots.

“I do, lamb.” He nodded, but you could see he had knots in his own stomach. “If he ever does anything vile against you or your person, you come home, and he'll feel the strength of my hammer.” He told you, showing where you had inherited your stubbornness.

“All right, Papa.” You sighed, but straightened your stiff back. “I'll go back, for you.”

“Then, let's be off!” He said, taking your bag for you and accompanied you back through the village and up the road leading back to Cavill and his Castle of loneliness. “I'll write to you more regularly.” Your father said, as you both reached the turn on the road leading up to the house. “So, it will seem like I am with you more.” He promised, his voice slightly weak.

“I would love nothing more.” You replied, your own voice weak with tears and emotions, as you reached out and squeezed his hands.

Taking leave of your father, you made the solitary and anxious walk up to the castle, trying not to let the shadows from the trees and sudden animal noises spook you, keeping your eyes forward. Once you reached the front door you thought of knocking or ringing the bell, but knew if you did it would wake Henry and you weren't in the mood and didn't possess the strength for his cold wrath. So, you tried the handle and found it open, which in actuality, didn't surprise you. No one in their right or ill mind would try to rob the Bane, no matter how rich he might be.

You quietly closed the door behind you, before taking off your shoes, not wanting to make the old floorboards creak under their soles. Gingerly tiptoeing by Henry's study door, it was closed, but you weren't willing to risk him being inside and hearing you, before mounting the stairs, pausing with each small noise you or the house made. Only letting out a soft sigh of relief, you weren't aware you were holding, when you reached your floor, no one but you occupied the floor, with the Bane on another floor and Damien sleeping somewhere below stairs no doubt.

But, you lifted a brow at the stream of light coming from under your room door, but brushed it off.

“Maybe Damien made up my fireplace to keep my room warm, while I was away.” You said to yourself, it was something sweet and thoughtful Damien would do. “Has to be, what else would it be?” You sighed at your silly paranoia and went inside.

“So, you came back.”

You yelped, dropping your shoes and bag to the floor with a clatter, pressing your back to the now closed door and your hands to your pounding chest. “What are you doing in here?” You demanded, out of breath from your fright.

“Waiting for you.” Henry replied, leaning forward in the chair by the window, that you usually occupied to read during the days.

“In my room?” You asked, lifting your brows at him and trying to collect yourself, not wanting to give the beast the satisfaction of seeing you off-guard.

“It's only your room, because I allow it to be.”

“How kind of you.” You hissed, finally recovering yourself and relaxed. “I didn't think you were capable of it.”

An oddly sinister smirk tugged up one side of Henry's mouth. “I am capable of a good many things.” He replied, licking his lips and resting his elbows on his knees. “How was your little patient, anyway.” He asked, lifting a brow at you. “Did you cure him with your cute little leaves?”

“Don't mock me!” You snapped, hands tightening into fists.

“I'll take that as a no, then.” He smirked more at you, apparently pleased with himself.

You drew in a shaky breath and let it out, trembling with a built up amount of emotions, before suddenly snapping towards him, in a fit of rage. “You fucking bastard!” You growled, jaw clenched and hands raised.

Henry snapped to his feet, like a flash of lightning, grasping your raised wrists in his hands, instantly restraining you and pushed you up against the wall beside the window he had been sitting next to. “That is fowl language from such a sweet mouth.” He growled, looking into your angry eyes.

“Did your patient break your little heart?” He mocked you, venomously.

He didn't believe for a moment that you had actually gone down to the village for a real patient, that your father had only sent the note as a cryptic message for something entirely different. Like a lover or beloved, trying to plot something to get you away from him.

“What are you talking about!” You yelled, struggling against him, confused and frightened.

“Do you think I'm a fool!?” Henry bellowed back at you, painfully pinning your hands to the wall at either side of your head. “I know that note was a fucking lie! A feign to get away from here, probably to see some peasant lover.”

“What do you care?!” You huffed, even more confused and shocked at him and his outburst. “You'd pawn me off to anything that gave you the chance to do so! You didn't want me here to start with, I know that, the whole village, if not the county, knows that.” You taunted him, hotly.

“Yet, here you are acting like your my scorned lover!”

“Because you are mine.” Henry growled in a low tone. “My possession to do with as I please.”

“Ha!” You laughed in his face. “I am no such thing.” You huffed, shaking your head at him. “I don't belong to you. My only misfortune is being held prisoner here, with a monster as a jailer.”

You yelped as one of Henry's hands gripped your jaw in a vice-like grip, forcing your head back to look up at him. “You belong to me.” He hissed, his face so close to yours now that your noses brushed and his hot breath wafted over your face. “I paid for you. All that money your dear father owes me; for the goods he uses to sustain his profession, for the taxes on the land his forge and house rest on, and so much more.”

“He sold you to me, to have those debts paid for and cleared away.”

The dull nails of his fingers pressed into the smooth skin of your cheeks and you whimpered, pathetically, immobilized by one of his hands pinning your wrists above you, his other hand gripping your head, like a bear trap, and his body caging you in, preventing even the smallest of movements of your body.

Your rage was forgotten in that instance, seeing the true Bane, and fear paralyzed you.

“So, yes.” He grinned at you in a way that made your heart stop. “I am your jailer, and you are my prisoner, and if you ever leave this house again, you will feel my wrath. Do I make myself clear to you?”

“Yes.” You gulped in a breathy whimper, unable to move your head to nod.

“Very good.” Henry replied, tipping his head slightly to the side. “Now, that's settled.” He looked to the clock, then back at you. “It's almost two in the morning.” He moved to stand sideways, but still stood close to you.

“Go to bed.” He ordered you, his tone leaving no room to argue.

Licking your dry lips, you slowly moved away from him, to the edge of your bed and pulled down the blankets, while he approached the door. You gulped, your throat sore from where the heel of his palm had pressed as he held you. “My patient,” You dared to say, as he opened the door. “died.” You informed him, your face hardening against the hurt of losing a patient and the fear that gripped you as Henry turned around.

Henry regarded you with a tired, cold and indifferent face, but his blue eyes gave away to something deeper you couldn't place your finger on. “You no longer have any patients, real or otherwise. So, you should put your mind to other things.” He told you in an emotionless voice, then left.

“Other than you, you mean.” You said to the closed door of your bedroom.

You stood by the side of your bed for a long time, paranoid that Henry was just standing in the hallway listening in on you, which he did for several minutes, before going to his own room, before your turned and went into the bathroom, desperately needing to soak in a hot bath. You needed that delectable heat and steaming water to melt away every ounce of stress, fear and exhaustion that you had coursing through your sore body, and it did just that. You didn't get out of the tub until the water turned as cold as Henry was towards you and it was almost four in the morning. Then, and only then, did you put on a nightie and crawl into bed, using the dying light of the fire in the grate to read your current book and fell asleep as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon and tree tops.

“Good morning, Ms.!” Damien's chipper voice rang out as he entered your room with breakfast.

You groaned and tossed the blankets over your head, you had only gotten four hours of sleep and weren't in the mood for how happy-go-lucky Damien sounded, especially after what had happened with Henry during the night.

“Oh, come on!” He teased you, setting the silver tray of food down on the table. “It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining, the wind is hardly blowing and the birds are singing!” He said, trying to infuse his energetic mood into you, coaxing you up and out of bed, as he threw the curtains open and opened the windows, letting in the fresh sea air.

“Not today, Damien.” You sighed, turning your face into the plush pillow with a groan.

“Didn't sleep so well?” He asked, tilting his head at you, as he stood at the foot of your bed.

“You can say that.” Your mumbled reply answered, staring at the thin seam of light at the edge of your blanket.

“All right, then why don't you stay in bed, until you feel ready to get up and meet the day.” He suggested to you, though the concern was evident in his voice.

“Thank you, Damien.” You replied, closing out that thin line of light, plunging yourself in the darkness you felt yourself being swallowed into.

Lingering for a moment longer, Damien quietly showed himself out of your room, silently closing your door after him. You laid in bed for a long time after he left, not moving and barely moving, before letting out a deep sigh and tossed the blankets off of your body with a huff.

“Damn that man.” You growled, staring up at the canopy of your bed. “Damn him to hell!” You shouted, your anger and despair culminating inside of you.

You didn't care if he could hear you, let him hear you and rot for it. You had done him no wrong, you had done nothing to him, other than the misfortune of your father giving you to him to pay a lifelong debt, before you were even born and your father owed his father, before his death.

“Why couldn't all of you died in this miserable house, that's never been a home.” You growled, beating your fists against the feather mattress. “Do this already dismal world a spot brighter for the rest of us.” You raged, jerking your body to sit up and threw your pillow against the door.

You sighed and rubbed at your face, trying to calm yourself, not wanting the Bane to reduce you to this mood and attitude, it was one thing for him to act like it and another for you to do it. Your parents raised you better and would be disappointed in your tantrum. Straightening your back and taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, you got out of bed, pulling on your robe and tied it around your waist, before moving over the breakfast Damien had made for you, it was almost cold now, but you didn't mind; your stomach was rumbling like an angry tiger.

Finishing your breakfast, you glanced around your room and sighed, there was nothing to do. But, read, that was.

Getting up, you went into the attached library, since you had finished your last book, The Iliad by Homer. You froze half way into the room, there was a package sitting on the table that hadn't been there the day before. You glanced at the door that led out of the library and into the hallway, it was closed, but the cobwebs that usually covered it, were broken and disturbed.

“Damien.” You sighed, shaking your head, figuring the man was just trying to cheer you up.

Picking the wrapped package up, you touched the delicate, fancy, black and gold wrapping paper, feeling the heft of what was inside and wondered what in the world he had gotten you. It felt like a book, from what you could feel through the paper, and you didn't want to ruin such nice, and clearly expensive, paper. So, you carefully unwrapped it and setting the paper down on the table, it was indeed a book, a hardcover of deep brown leather and gold stamping decoration on both covers and the spine.

Turning it over, you blinked at the cover.

“The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas.” You read off the front cover, before opening it, a folded piece of paper with your name scrawled on it slipped out and fell to the floor, making you bend down to pick it up.

Setting the book down, you unfolded the note, then frowned and shook your head at it, it was written on Cavill Industries stationary. But, the words surprised and shocked you even more.

My actions last night were unspeakable, I do not wish to keep you a prisoner in a place that has become my own penitentiary, nor make you feel fear, while you stay within these walls.

I have my reasons, that are not your fault and beyond your understanding. Take my apology with this gift, I have read it myself, and would love to know what you think of it.

Perhaps over dinner, one night.

If you would be so nicely inclined to have it, with me. - Henry

Your mouth was agape by the time you finished reading his note, having to read it twice over to ensure you weren't misreading it. You were so taken aback and dumbstruck by it, how could this be the same man that had pinned you, bodily, to a wall the night before, telling you of the wrath you would endure if you considered leaving the castle without his permission.

Was it some sick and amusing joke of his?

Was he trying to lull you into some sort of false confidence?

Was he trying to brainwash you into falling into being his good little pet?

Or was Henry being genuine and trying to make amends for his inexcusable and ungentlemanly behavior towards you?

It was all too confusing and made your head throb.

So, you set the note down on the table and picked up the book, rubbing your palm over the orate cover, before moving over to the window seat, settling on its plush cushion, the filtered gray light coming from the cloudy sky came through the windowpane, illuminated the pages just enough for you to read by, and you quickly got lost in the world that inked its pages.

249 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

naturally

description: there’s something about bang chan, even if he’s not some senior crush you’ve pined over from the very beginning or a friend you’ve known forever, that just makes realizing that you’re in love with him as something that feels right member: chan genre: fluff, slice of life, high school au, college au, friends to lovers au, sports au (off season universe), campus dj au (if u squint), slow burn (?), fem reader word count: 12k wtf warning: explicit language, alcohol, a plot that makes zero sense note: idk what this is it’s so messy anw + @skzwriternet

Chan came in your life quite late—both literally and figuratively.

The two of you were in the 12th grade when you met, at a time when all everyone cared about were getting into their respective dream universities and establishing a solid group of friends to call back once they’re already on their separate ways. He got stuck in traffic that day and wasn’t allowed entry past the school gates at first because he didn’t get his uniform on time while you and your group of friends were on time in class, completely unexpecting of a new addition to the group as you all worried about the upcoming entrance exams.

“Oh, look at that, new kid.” Minho nudged your elbow and whispered loudly close to you that day, gesturing to the spaces between the curtains of the window facing the hallway. Outside, Chan was being ushered to the faculty room at the other end of the hall by a teacher, head hung low in embarrassment that he stood out with his black hoodie and sweatpants. “And no uniform on the first day—I feel like we should adopt him!”

You didn’t pay much attention to it at first, shrugging before returning to your messy Homeroom notes. An election was to be held at the end of the week and maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about it. “A bit risky, don’t you think? Right before the exams.” You mused out loud, more to the classroom elections than to the transferee.

“Do you think we’ll get him?” Minho asked anyway despite the lack of interest in your tone, leaning on your side of the shared table with a propped up elbow. “Or will Dahyun and Bam’s class next door?”

The answer was given to Minho over five minutes later, when the gentle sound of your Homeroom adviser’s voice was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Excuse me, good morning, Ms. Park!” The faculty head, Mrs. Liu, peered in your room that day with Chan trailing behind with curious eyes. “I’m so sorry for the interruption but your transfer student is now here!”

In front of the classroom, Ms. Park welcomed Chan with a smile and clasped hands. “Ah yes, Bang Chan, finally! Come on in!”

Chan introduced himself in awkward giggles and a slight miscalculated step when he didn’t immediately see the elevated area separating the black board and the first row of desks. “Hi, I’m eighteen-year-old student Bang Chan and I moved here from Sydney, Australia! Please take care of me!” You remembered him introducing himself at Ms. Park’s request before being seated right next to Hansol on the other end of the fourth row.

Minho, who eyed the boy curiously the entire time, sat up properly after and told you, “I’m gonna ambush him at recess. You wanna come with?”

You knew even then that you didn’t have to answer the question because as the bell rang for recess time, Minho had dragged you over to Hansol and Chan’s table as soon as he saw you pick up your wallet.

“Hi, I’m Minho and this is Y/N and we’re about to kidnap you!” Minho exclaimed as the two of you approached the unexpecting boy, earning you wide eyes from him. “If you want to, of course. Y/N’s gonna be class president again by Friday and I’m gonna be fighting Moonbin to the death for basketball captain so we’re clearly overqualified to show you around.”

You remember Hansol toppling over in laughter while you turned away in embarrassment. Not that it was uncommon for the most nonsense things to come out of Minho’s mouth then—in fact, it was quite the opposite.

Fortunately, Chan was easily persuaded. “Uh...sure, why not?” He grinned with relief, pushing his chair away from his desk and picking up his own wallet before following you and Minho downstairs to the cafeteria.

You ended up helping him buy snacks from the cafeteria and showing him around what you deemed as the most important areas of the campus within the thirty-minute recess. Because of the short time, he met your other friends belatedly at lunch.

Chan came in your life quite late—both literally and figuratively—but you suppose it’s not that bad because you’ve been friends ever since.

Minho was ‘disappointed but not surprised’ when Chan tried out for the swim team instead of his basketball team—his words not yours.

Club Week was not actually a week but a week and a half, giving everyone time to either succeed or fail in the clubs they signed up for and move on to the next. Since you were elected Class President, you decided on sticking only to what you considered your most important clubs for senior year: Volleyball and the school paper. Minho, on the other hand, unfortunately lost his ‘fight to the death’ with Moonbin over the team captain title but he kept insisting that it was because he really was fated to be the cheer dance team’s captain instead.

“At least, it’s one less sweaty kid I have to worry about.” You jokingly assured Minho once Club Week was over. You and your group of friends were huddled on your usual table that lunch break, comparing training and review center schedules.

“Ya, what does that mean?”

“It means you’re in two sports clubs and you never shower after any one of them!” Dahyun points out for you across the table, earning her ‘ooh’s and high-fives from everyone. “You should be embarrassed, Mingyu’s on three teams and he literally showers on Febreze.”

“But I do shower, just not as religiously as everyone.”

“Why not?”

“Climate change!”

You turned to Chan amidst the playful chaos, shaking your head in feigned disapproval. “Sorry, they’re five.”

The boy only chuckled. “It’s okay.”

“I’m glad you joined the school paper too, by the way.” You made sure to add, hinting that you saw him at your club assembly the week prior despite the large turn-out of people. “I heard from Jihyo at our last council meeting. Broadcasting, right?”

“Yep,” He nodded with pursed lips and an eye smile. “so you guys will hear me DJ for the rest of the year too.”

“Can’t wait.”

Chan’s first gig as the school radio’s DJ was the Friday that followed, in the middle of your student council meeting. He sounded nervous at first, which made you, Jihyo, and Seungkwan laugh while you were presenting your batch’s initiatives for the whole school year, but he made it out alive—and even included a shout out for you.

“Also, shoutout to Y/N! Thank you for showing me the ropes this month.” His voice echoed faintly through the hallways at lunch break. A pause then followed, what you assumed was Changbin and Jisung scolding him, before he snickered and said, “I guess Minho and Hansol, too! See you tomorrow, you guys!”

Ever since the 7th grade, you’ve made sure to follow each and every one of your closest friends’ extracurricular activies. From Dahyun’s and Jihyo’s recitals to Bam Bam’s and Minho’s competitions and meets, you were always there: half as a volunteer for the school paper and the other half as a cheering friend. It’s your way of looking out for your friends, by standing in the sidelines for support.

So naturally, with the addition of Chan to your friend group, you always came to his swim meets with a camera, a write-up outline, and a tarpaulin you’re quite sure Minho and Bam Bam didn’t make while sober the night before.

“Like the slogan, dolphin boy?” Bam Bam snickered at Chan as he sat on his designated waiting area right in front of your bleacher. It was the final tournament for the semester and your two other friends have decided on a lazy ‘Let’s go Dolphin Boy!’ decorated in glitters and a Photoshopped photo of Chan’s head in a dolphin. “When are you going on?”

Chan turned to your group and immediately slapped a hand to his face in embarrassment. “Oh my God...”

“To set the record straight, Jihyo and I were studying together last night and Dahyun was at piano lessons.” You held your hands up in self-defense to an eyeroll from Minho. “The poster’s all on Bam and Minho.”

“I know.” Chan mumbled behind his hand, removing it slowly after. “I’m on in five minutes. And what happens when I do get a place on the stands?”

“Then we’ll stand up and wave this harder!” Minho answered this time, aggressively waving the cartolina and causing a few glitters to scatter on your jeans.

“Minho!”

Chan competed in 1500 m I.M. and all the butterfly relays on that day and only then did you notice that he liked competing in them more than the other categories. You took photos and noted the important details with Bam Bam’s agile typing on your phone throughout the event, up until Chan received his mostly gold medals—when Bam Bam and Minho did kept to their word and ambushed the poor boy by throwing the slogan over his head when he asked for a group photo with everyone.

“This is like the Avengers of extended friend groups!” Dahyun joked once the chaos has died down and you’ve managed to get everyone to prepare for a couple of group photos. “Now I’m even more excited for dinner!”

A couple of Chan’s childhood friends also came that day—Younghyun, Somi, Sana, Lisa, and Matthew whom you befriended after over dinner that was Chan’s treat. It looked more like a weird family reunion to you than what Dahyun thought but you laughed anyway as you adjusted your camera settings.

“Okay, you guys ready?” You asked the group once everyone’s settled down, arms slung over each other and bright smiles ready to be taken for Instagram updates. “One, two—“

At the center of the photo, with a big bouquet of roses and several medals, Chan suddenly shifted in his position under Matthew’s and Younghyun’s arms and asked you, “Wait, wait, wait...Y/N aren’t you joining?”

You shook your head, making everyone erupt in protest. “Ya, then who’s gonna take the photo?”

Minho doesn’t exaggerate it one bit whenever he recalls this that Chan literally bolted out of the group to pull in his nearest teammate to take the photo, quickly tugging you to him afterwards and positioning you right in front of him once the group photos were taken. You ended up with his arms and his bouquet draped over you in all of the photos.

With the college entrance exams fast approaching over a month later, you found yourself juggling your academics, cram school, Volleyball training, student council, and the school paper all at once. It was manageable at times, with the help of your teammates and clubmates, but of course there would be days when you would almost fall asleep on the spot at Saturday cram school, in particular.

Chan was no better as he balanced academics and cram school with his own swim training, the school radio, and preparing a portfolio for his talent exams at the Departments of Music for every university he applied to.

Fortunately, you both went to the same cram school with everyone else. Seated next to each other, you bought Chan coffee while he passed you candies and chocolate he would get from his mom through the mail.

“You, uh...” Chan nudged your knuckles with his softly one time, alternating his gaze between your open notes and the formulas being discussed on the white board two rows ahead. “The answer’s 2.”

“Hm?” You hummed tiredly, free hand supporting your cheek as you tried so hard to pay attention and follow along. The day prior was meetings upon meetings that lasted until 8:30 PM, pushing all of your time allotted for homework to midnight since you had to take the bus home. To say you were so tempted to fall asleep then was an understatement.

Knowing this, you saw Chan take the liberty of writing the correct answer on your notes through your half-lidded eyes, poking your knuckles with the end of his mechanical pencil after. “You have the whole solution down but the final answer is 2, silly.” He chuckled softly, discreetly passing you another gummy bear from under the table. “Do you even know what you’ve been writing?”

You nodded even though your brain was barely processing anything, receiving the gummy bear after. “I think so?” You mused out loud, making him laugh.

“We’ll just have to go through this again later. You should’ve stayed at home and rested if you’re so tired.”

You found out later, when you were much awake to have lunch at a nearby cafe with Chan, that the boy took down the notes for you in a fashion similar to your note-taking technique for you to copy—and that he drew a small dinosaur on the margins of your notebook with a text bubble that said, “You can do it!”

Chan has made it a habit to bring you an extra thermos of coffee and drew little animals on your notebook whenever the two of you were bored ever since.

You showed up at Chan’s doorstep on his first Christmas Day in Korea, not really expecting to see his mom with his aunt on the other side of the door.

“Hi.” Chan mustered up a rather confused smile, growing even bigger and less shy right in front of you the longer he gazed at your own wide eyes and long travel coat. “Y/N, hi.”

“I thought you were—“ You unconsciously gestured to his extended family running around the hallways behind him, furrowing your brows. “Hi, um, should I just—should I just go?”

Chan furrowed his brows, instinctively pulling you closer to the doorway by your arm once he noticed the snow falling harder behind you. “What? Why?” He asked at the sudden proximity. “What’s up?”

His unintentionally blunt tone with the question definitely had you caught off-guard and flustered. “O-Oh, I just thought—I thought you wouldn’t be with your parents and siblings for Christmas so I came over.” You cringed internally at your truthful but rather cheesy answer. “Everyone’s skating at the mall today and I thought of inviting you because I assumed that you’d be lonely here with just your uncle and auntie...”

Another smile, an amused one, settled on his lips as you talked. “Really?” He mused out loud to which you nodded absentmindedly at. “We could go right now, if you want. My mom would probably tell me to bring Hannah and Lucas along, though, if that’s okay.”

Your eyes widened for the second time that afternoon. “W-We can, yeah.” You nodded slowly to both questions, breaking into your own smile.

“Okay, come on in first, then, it’s cold out.” Chan then took you by the same hand inside, closing the door behind him and leading you to the shoe rack for your boots. “My mom’s been looking for you and everyone else since they landed here too! You should be able to stop her from fussing over dinner so much.”

You met Chan’s parents and siblings that day, almost getting stuck in his aunt and uncle’s house because of his mom’s excitement at meeting one of her son’s friends in Korea until Chan smoothly brought up your offer of going to the skating rink with his siblings. You eventually left the house with him and his younger siblings right before Minho could text you that you were taking too long.

“You do know how to skate, right, Chan?” Minho asked when you arrived. He sat between you and the boy in question to rest his feet from racing with Dahyun, removing his skates and stretching his legs forward. “Y/N and Jihyo suck at explaining things she’s already good at and Bam Bam’s a deer walking for the first time so the choices for teacher aren’t really looking so well for you right now.”

When you looked over at him from Minho’s shoulder, he simply shrugged. “Shouldn’t be that hard. It’s just ice and blades, right?”

But it ended up being very much so, at least for him as he ended up reaching for yours and Jihyo’s hands before you could even run off to join Minho and Dahyun on their race. “Okay, okay, I was wrong!” He exclaimed dramatically, gloved hand meeting your own when Jihyo jokingly moved her hand away. “I’m going to fall over!”

“You’re doing fine.” You rolled your eyes in feigned exasperation, holding his hand anyway as you slowed your pace. His siblings then passed by the two of you, giggling over their eldest brother tripping on ice. "Look, even your siblings are doing fine and you came from the same place as those two.”

“Chan, you’re being dramatic.” Jihyo added to tease him further, gracefully sliding away from the two of you. “‘It’s just ice and blades, right?’ You’ll get used to it!”

Then, as if for unintentional emphasis, Chan almost tripped at this and instinctively held your hand tighter. “I really am going to fall if I let go.” He pouted, linking your arms together instead. “Can’t you really teach me?”

You unlink your arms, catching his hand again. “Fine, I’ll try but don’t cling to me too much.” You pointed out, laughing when he interlocks your fingers together. “You swim in deep ass Olympic pools back and forth like it’s nothing, ice shouldn’t be that scary to you, you know.”

With that, you spent the rest of the afternoon teaching Chan how to balance himself on his skates (and getting him out of Minho and Dahyun’s way as the two circled the rink like two roller derby players). He perfected his balance at the end of the day but he still wouldn’t let go of your hand so naturally, you came back next year.

And next year eventually turned into an annual tradition between the two of you.

The exam results then came in the middle of your final Volleyball game which was probably not good for your adrenaline levels but everyone found it amusing.

Your team was leading in the final set, 23-22, and you could tell as you delivered volley after volley that your opponent was already losing hope. On the sidelines of the open gymnasium, Bam Bam and Minho held up the ugliest orange cartolina ever with ‘HAIKYUU THAT SHIT Y/N!’ in mismatched marker colors while Jihyo, Dahyun, Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan screamed their lungs out for your team.

You’re quite certain the cartolina got confiscated by your coach after for inappropriate language, you’re not quite sure even at present because you never saw it again, especially when it was dropped to the ground the moment everyone’s phones started ringing because of an e-mail from school.

You noticed it from the sidelines, even as you and another teammate delivered the final volley that lead to your victory. Chan held your phone with a bright smile on his face, directing it to you after as you and your team huddled for a group hug and greeted the opposite team for the last time.

“Congratulations!” He greeted you as soon as you’ve celebrated enough with your teammates, waving your phone in front of you as he approached with everyone jumping not far behind him. “On both!”

“Both what?”

Before Chan could even answer you properly, you were engulfed in a big hug by Jihyo, Seungkwan, and Dahyun. “You did it!” They exclaimed in unison. “You passed all of the uni’s you applied to! We all did!”

Immediately, your widened eyes and agape mouth sought Chan for confirmation, to which he simply nodded with a laugh and a thumbs up. “No way...” You muttered in disbelief, gaining feeling back in your frozen legs after to jump along with everyone in your group hug. “No shit, no way! Congratulations, guys!”

“Congrats to you too, dude! You won twice today!” Jihyo pointed out, making everyone laugh. “We’re still on for BBQ, right?”

“Well, I can’t be the only one paying now since we all passed the exam!”

You got hugs from the others as well (and an extra one with a high-five from Seungkwan because he was just so hyped about your volleyball game), receiving from Chan last since he wanted a photo with you after.

“We could do a group photo, you know.” You tried suggesting as you held your Finals tournament trophy in between the two of you. Hansol has both of your phones side by side in front of him, adjusting the settings a little before taking the photo.

“We could but that’s for later. I need a new contact photo for you!” Chan insisted. Before you could comment on his ridiculous excuse, however, Hansol was already taking photos of the two of you.

Chan did set a photo of you from that day as your contact photo—specifically the one where you were pretending to dump invisible water from the trophy over him. It’s ridiculous and it still makes everyone laugh whenever Chan’s phone lights up with this photo.

Graduation celebrations naturally came after, as soon as Spring Break was over. Bam Bam threw a house party for your batch that was anything but sober and civil, the clubs each had send-off parties, and the student council planned a Graduation Ball which was mostly just yours, Jihyo’s, and Seungkwan’s excuse to dress semi-fancy and have Chan invite Younghyun to invite his band, Day6, to perform a whole set of their new songs.

You came with your friend group, or at least you and Jihyo convinced yourselves that you did since no one bothered to look for dates. It had been your finals before the Saturday of the graduation ball and, on top of that, the two of you were busy ‘student council-ing’ as Minho worded it, organizing the event with the school faculty and a few parents.

You did dance with everyone by the end of the night too, Minho pulling you along by the hand in a group hug as you yelled out the lyrics to Days Gone By—one of the last songs of the evening. “Finally you can join us!” He exclaimed dramatically, pressing a kiss on top of your head as he slung an arm over your shoulder. He didn’t actually need to worry about spending time with you since you’re all staying in the hotel for the night anyway. “Loosen up, will you?!”

On your other side, you could only hear Chan laugh as Bam Bam proceeded into the center of your big circle to dance, challenging an unexpecting Yugyeom nearby after. He stole glances over to you occasionally, a fond smile on his lips whenever you’d catch him in the act. He actually wanted to ask you to dance but decided against it last minute, growing too shy at noticing that the crowds are mostly dancing in friend groups rather than pairs until it was ultimately time to retreat into your hotel rooms.

“Goodnight and happy graduation, Seoul High!”

Fortunately, however, Chan made up for this by waiting on you after the dance. You stayed behind with Jihyo and Seungkwan for an hour more once the students have either gone back to their hotel rooms or migrated to the hotel lobby to wait for their rides home; Chan was more than happy to lend an extra helping hand as you thanked the staff and made sure that the packing up was done orderly.

“You did well tonight,” He complimented you sheepishly as the two of you carefully packed up the stage’s sound equipment. The microphone he was trying to remove from the stands was still on then, making his voice echo faintly through the hall. “organizing the event and all.”

Your face heated up against the now softer stage lights as you moved the guitar and music stands from the center to the side where a staff member was waiting for you. “T-Thanks, Chan. Did you have fun?”

He simply nodded this time with a sheepish giggle, passing you the microphones after making sure they were properly turned off.

After this, Chan politely walked you and Jihyo back to your shared room with Dahyun just two floors above the one all the boys in your class reserved for themselves

“Night, Chan! Make sure you’re not being too loud with the boys downstairs, okay?” Jihyo bid him goodbye quickly with a small yawn and a mischievous smile as she opened the heavy door to your room with ease. “I’m pretty sure Bam brought that wireless microphone with him again—and it’s probably Mingyu or Seokmin’s idea again.”

“Don’t worry we won’t, I’ll make sure.” Chan nodded sheepishly before waving goodbye to her. Once she’s inside, he then turned to you and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You nodded slowly at him, a little hesitant. When he raised his eyebrows at this, you then suggested, “Um...I know this is sudden and it’s like 1 AM but you don’t happen to be in the mood for McDonald’s, right?”

“Seriously? At this time?”

“I’ll buy you an iced coffee if you want.”

So you ended up at the McDonald’s two blocks from the hotel where your graduation ball was held, wrinkled dress suits and all. You talked for what seemed like an hour more, played with the Powerpuff Girls happy meal toy he bought on a whim, and got scolded through calls and text from your friends because you didn’t invite them. Since this day, the two of you have been buying each other’s coffee from McDonald’s.

Bam Bam and Minho both moved further West in the city, the latter sharing his uncle’s old apartment with another friend of his, while Jihyo dorms with Mina, another friend of yours from another school, up North. Besides these, no one made a drastic change to move houses or dormitories from the area your parents considered near since everyone else attended universities relatively near. At university, especially on your first year, you, Chan, and Dahyun mostly stuck with each other; just now with the addition of Lisa who ended up attending the same university and Jacob whom Chan befriended in his classes.

Sometime towards the end of your first semester, when Bam Bam and Minho skipped school to crash one of your semi-finals Volleyball game, your now larger group of friends decided that Chan would ‘take one for the team’ and get a driver’s license for all of your travelling needs. He lost against Jacob and Dahyun of all people in the most intense game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen.

Because of this, for the two weeks leading up to finals week, you ended up risking your life accompanying Chan to practice in his aunt’s old SUV. During this time period, he either took you to and from university as well or from your neighborhood to the bar and grill you started frequenting with him and the rest of your friend group. It’s not that he’s bad at driving, his parking skills were just initially a cause of worry for you whenever he was driving in crowded places.

“Am I close?” Chan asked you on your first day of finals, leaning over your side of the car to check the side mirror. You had your reviewers for your Communications class glued to your face throughout the entire twenty-minute ride but that didn’t stop you from simultaneously being anxious of hitting someone else’s car right in front of your college building. “Can you check?”

You opened the window and briefly peeked your head out, turning to Chan after and almost jumping at how close he’s gotten. “It doesn’t even look like you tried.” You laughed through your immediate flustered expression, making him lean back in frustration as he prepares to move the car again. “How long have we been here? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Chan pouted, keeping a hand on your head rest as he now carefully re-attempts to parallel park. “Just five minutes.” He mumbles, alternating his gaze quickly between the front and back of the car. “So that means you’ve been studying well this entire time.”

“Your driving is already good I could even sleep in, it’s just the parking that’s worrying.” You pointed out teasingly, leaning on his hand to glance back at the situation behind you and poking on his new arm bands. “Speaking of, you do know that you don’t even have to park, right? It’s not like you’re going to wait for me.”

“But I’ll wait for you.” Your eyes met belatedly as Chan finally parks the car. “It’s just 30 minutes, right?”

“It’s two hours, Chan...” You quirked a brow. “Didn’t I text you that?”

“Really? Ah, well...I’ll just...” Chan chuckled sheepishly, clearly realizing his mistake at the last minute. “I can totally just hang around, I guess.”

But the problem was, Dahyun didn’t have class that day, Lisa was organizing a club party, and Jacob was in his own volleyball training. Chan ended up loitering around the swim team for a while and impulsively buying you lunch because he didn’t want to waste gas.

You bought him lunch when he passed his driver’s license in return.

“You probably need glasses now.” You pointed out to him as you happily ate your Burger King inside his car. The nearest branch to the driving school he attended had a relatively big parking lot, making the two of you sigh in relief that he didn’t have to parallel park this time. “I’m pretty sure I texted you that my exam was from 10 to 12.”

Next to you, Chan had his seat reclined and the windows fully open as he sipped on his Cola and munched on fries. “No, I checked it again the other day and you texted 10 to 11.”

“What?!” When you do check your phones, only then do you find out that you did mistakenly text him 10 to 11 instead of 10 to 12. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Should I buy you another burger?”

Chan simply shook his head and snatched the ice cream cup you’ve been saving. “I’ll just take this, thank you!”

“Ya!”

The first time the driver’s license actually came in handy was on your first volleyball game as a university student. Chan went on a round trip around the major universities in Seoul to pick up all of your friends which almost caused you to be late to the game but you could barely care then—you were too pumped over the idea of all of your friends coming together to watch you.

Besides, Chan volunteered to be a courtside reporter for the game so you weren’t scolded by your coach alone.

“Good luck out there!” Chan nudged your side with a wink as the two of you prepared to enter the arena with your team. He made sure that he had his microphone off twice this time. “I’d really love to interview you when you win.”

“When have I ever lost in front of you, hm?” You teased with a grin of your own, just as the backstage doors opened to the cheers and drums of your university.

And, true to your word, you win the game a little over an hour and a half later. With a small trophy passed around from your teammates and the promise of a day-off from your coach, Chan was the first of your friends to approach you.

“And here we also have SNU women’s volleyball team newest recruits, Y/N and Chaeyeon!” Chan introduced you and your teammate in front of the cameras. In the distance, you could see your friends then: Jihyo, Dahyun, Mina, and Lisa holding balloons in the color of your university, Bam Bam and Minho holding their usual embarrassing slogan, and Jacob jumping up and down excitedly over your game’s turn-out. “This is your first game and first win of the season, congrats! How does it feel, you two?”

Your eyes met Chaeyeon’s instinctively to your right, making the two of you giggle shyly. After a mini game of passing the microphones between each other, you eventually ended up answering, “Um, we’re very grateful that our first game gave us our first win as new members as well and we hope that we’ll continue doing even better in the semi-finals!”

“Yes! Everyone’s hoping so too, especially after watching your play today!” Chan commented, clearly going off-topic then by the way you noticed how his mini crew of fellow students looked surprise and even checked their own cue cards.

Once the interviews were over, you were then whisked away by Minho and Jacob—the former to catch up with you while the latter was so excited talking to you about your game.

“Dude you were so good out there! Like that serve on the first set that really riled up the opposing team’s captain? And and that over the net move you did with Chaeyeon! We should have a practice game sometime!” Jacob always talked a million times per second over things that excited him but you didn’t mind, at least now Minho had someone to compete with over who could say the weirder thing.

The interaction placed a rather childish pout on Chan throughout the ride to your promised Korean BBQ dinner, no one but Lisa paid it too much mind.

“Stop pouting you look ugly.” She said to the poor boy with a feigned judgmental face, switching seats with you earlier for the ride to dinner so you can discuss volleyball with Jihyo and Jacob. “Why are you even pouting? Something on your mind?”

“Nothing.” Chan only furrowed his brows and frowned, glancing over to you on the rear view mirror to see you laughing along to a video Minho was showing everyone on his phone.

it’s not Minho that bothered him, everyone with eyes and a braincell have always known that he’s in love with his current roommate.

Jacob, though...you play the same sport and are both equally passionate over it! It definitely made Chan think.

“Nothing looks like she’s having fun, huh?” Lisa mumbled under her breath in response after a moment, breaking out into a laugh when Chan finally glances over at her with a confused look. “Nothing!”

Lisa made sure you sat next to Chan after, dragging Minho and Jacob by the ears to the other side of the table.

On your second year, your favorite junior from your previous school finally entered college. Seungmin was also on the student council, school paper, as well as in the high school baseball team who often practiced with your volleyball team so you basically considered him your ‘child,’ much to his annoyance. Though he attended a university that was nearer to Bam Bam’s and Minho’s, you pestered Chan into driving you almost once a month to his dorm to visit, anyway.

Chan would’ve said no every time given his own busy schedule but you promised him every time that Felix, a friend of Seungmin’s who happened to come from Australia as well, and Jeongin, another junior you unofficially ‘adopted’ in high school, would also be there.

“Chan, I need to go to Seungmin’s, it’s an emergency.” You greeted Chan one day right after your afternoon classes. You found him in the library, studying for second semester midterms with Lisa and Jacob which did made you feel bad but you really couldn’t wait for the next bus anymore.

“What kind of emergency?” Lisa asked, prompting you to shake your head.

“The kids said it’s very bad...” You continued shaking your head frantically and that was enough for Chan to pack up his things and lead you outside to his car.

When the two of you arrived at Seungmin and Jeongin’s shared dorm, Chan was more than confused at seeing the former sprawled out on the common area carpet with his arms folded over his chest like a vampire while the latter and Jeongin hovered over him with worried looks and mini fans.

“Is Seungmin dying?” Chan asked you with genuine worry as you approached, which would’ve made you laugh with the choice of words had you not just been vaguely called on short notice to deal with the situation.

You didn’t get to answer him at first as your first instinct was to sit down next to Seungmin and ask Felix, “We came here as fast as we could. What’s wrong?”

In front of you, Seungmin groaned in pain and rolled over on his stomach, hiding his reddening cheeks from you. “Y/N, why are you here?” He whined, bringing his arms up to his head to hide his face further. “Did these two call you?”

“Yeah they did.” You answered firmly, rolling the boy on his back again that prompted more complaints from him. “Now, what’s wrong? School? Sports? Friends? Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Seungmin to remove his arms over his face and answer you and it undeniably made you and Chan nervous. When he did answered, it was what you least expected from him as he said, “Y/N, I think I have a crush...”

A pause then followed as everyone simply stared back at Seungmin who immediately hid in his hoodie once again.

“Oh for the love of God, Kim Seungmin! Are you kidding me right now?! I came all the way here for this?” You smacked him in the arm once you’ve recovered, finally breaking out into laughs as the other boys toppled over in laughter. Turning to Jeongin and Felix, you then asked, “So why did you call me? You could’ve called Minho, he literally lives three blocks away.”

Felix and Jeongin glanced over at each other and shrugged. “He said he’s having love problems,” Jeongin pointed to Seungmin innocently before turning to you. “So I thought of calling you. Aren’t you and Chan a thing?”

This time, it was you and Chan looking at each other and laughing. “No, no, we’re not a thing.” He clarified for you with a dismissive wave. “Y/N’s married in a poly relationship with academics and extracurriculars.”

“And Chan’s secretly a merman so it’s a hard pass.” You finished his thought jokingly, looking over at Seungmin after.

“You guys, I’m still in a situation here!” Seungmin frowned, lifting his head up to place on your lap. “I’m fucked, basically.”

“Well, since we came all the way here and gas is expensive, do you want to talk about it? Lix and I can cook dinner.”

With that (and a few more words to get Seungmin off of the floor), you managed to drag the lovestruck boy into the kitchen and cooked him tonkatsu with Felix and Jeongin on your tail. Chan kept him company the entire time, peering over his shoulder as he narrated the story of a certain figure skater he met at his Freshman welcome assembly. “We’ve been friends for a while and I really like them but they’re always getting into trouble!” Seungmin mostly rambled, making you, Jeongin, and Felix snicker with your backs turned.

“All the more reasons to see them often, then?” You suggested, much to Seungmin’s annoyance.

“Won’t I be too obvious? Or too doting? Maybe they don’t like that as much since they’re so independent. Agh, what do I do?!”

“Play it cool like you always do, kid.” You answered simply, patting his head affectionately as you passed by his spot to retrieve a basket of condiments “What do you think, Chan?”

You clearly caught him off-guard then by the way his eyes slowly widened and he instinctively sat up straight. “O-Oh, u-um—yeah, what you said...” He eventually agreed with a nonchalant shrug to cover up his shaky actions. “Don’t overthink it or else nothing happens.”

You re-joined Jeongin and Felix across the kitchenette with a chuckle, nudging Jeongin with your elbow after. “You kids are growing up! Ah, but it still kinda feels like yesterday when you two were just messing around back in high school.”

“We’re a year below you, what are you talking about?” Jeongin pouted, eyes not leaving the side dishes he was preparing. When you don’t tease him further about it with another side comment, he then adds, “Sorry for assuming you and Chan were dating by the way. That wasn’t weird, right?”

You shook your head reassuringly. “No, it’s cool! I’m just curious where you’d get that from.”

“Minho said—“ And that was enough for you to give your aforementioned friend an earful the next time you saw him after.

“So, Chan’s not dating?” Felix asked next to which you nodded at. “Oh, cool!”

“Why? Do you have someone for him?”

Though Felix didn’t say anything more specific after that, Chan was then coerced into a friendly blind date to the movies a week after, you heard it at his new sideline podcast with Changbin and Jisung of all places.

“I—“ Seungmin’s first reaction was to clasp his hands together while the two of you were listening to the podcast episode in YouTube. “I spill out my heart to you guys and over tonkatsu then I find out that this happened right under my nose that night?”

It was a month since his dramatic confession and a little over two weeks since Chan went on the blind date and you’ve been taking the bus with Dahyun to visit the kids ever since. Chan thought he did something wrong but you’ve assured him multiple times that you’re just trying to be considerate of him since he now has an additional person on his plate.

Dahyun also wanted to visit Jihyo and Mina so you decided on commuting with her in particular.

“Ah, well, that’s life—or college...or maybe both.” You shrugged. You often studied in their dorm living room to pass the time if Minho wasn’t up for being bothered with in his apartment—you found out throughout this that studying with a Legal Management major like Seungmin motivates you to go through your rigorous readings. “How’s your crush by the way? Any progress?”

“They want to try speed skating! Do you know how dangerous that is? Not to mention, the legality of it all...”

“This person seems like they get you up on your toes. I like it! Makes things a bit more exciting, don’t you think?”

“It just makes my head hurt.” Seungmin sighed, rubbing his temples dramatically for emphasis. “I can’t help but worry...”

“I think you’re sweet looking out for them like this.” You assured. “But it’s not sports if you don’t get hurt and we both know that.”

“Then what do I do?”

“Just look out for them. I’m pretty sure they’re not all that clumsy as you make them out to be—you said they’re an athlete, right?—but it’s still important to be there for support and help when they really need it.” You half-shrugged, not really knowing what else to say. “But not just as someone who has a crush. Be a friend first and foremost—I mean, obviously, since you’re not dating, you’re just friends, hopefully for now. Yeah, that’s it! Don’t overthink it, you’re friends not married!”

A thought then seemed to pass Seungmin as a small smile formed on his lips. He then pulled his knees close to his chest and leaned back on the sofa behind him. “So, is that how you are with Chan?”

“What?!”

“I mean he’s sort of dating right now but don’t you have a crush on him?” The younger boy asked in genuine curiosity. “Honestly, I was surprised that you let him go on that blind date with the Soyeon girl Felix recommended, much less a second date this weekend.”

“No—I mean no, I don’t have a crush on him.” You refused calmly though your voice clearly shook a little but not for the reason Seungmin thought it was. “We’re just friends. You’re going off-topic!”

Seungmin’s eyes lit up in interest. “Well, I thought about it so we’re talking about it now! Have you seriously never thought about it?”

“No, but I am now because you brought it up!” You shook your head back truthfully before smacking his arm with your reviewers, making him pout and wince at you. “Don’t do that! You’re like—you’re trying to brainwash me into having feelings or something!”

Seungmin instinctively held his hands up, filled with his own lecture notes, and shook his head at the accusation. “No I’m not!” He pouted at you to no avail. “I’m just saying that I’ve always thought there was something, with how you two are so close.”

“You and I are close, Minho and I are close,” You argued back with a small pout, crossing your arms. “Heck, Bam Bam and I are close and we grew up together since the 4th grade.”

Again, the boy shook his head stubbornly. “Yeah, we’re all different kinds of close, especially Chan,” He claimed with so much conviction. “You look out for me, Minho, and Bam Bam but Chan looks out for you as much as you do for him, if that makes sense.”

“See you can’t even reason out properly and you’re in Legal Management.” You scoffed playfully. “I look out for everyone the same way, Chan’s not that kind of special for me. Also, it’s basic human decency, Seungmin. I can’t believe you don’t look out for me back, to be honest.”

Though you came off as perfectly unbothered by this, there was a period when things started became awkward on your end and it frustrated you until the end of your second year.

Seungmin teased you to no end for it to make up for your equally endless questions about the person he’s taken interest in, Minho kept bringing it up whenever the two of you met or hung out in his apartment, and Dahyun only confronted you about it when it started becoming inconvenient for her as yours and Chan’s mutual friend.

“Chan keeps texting me if we want a ride to Minho’s but I already told him that we’re on the bus right now.” Dahyun showed you her phone on another one of your many commutes to Minho’s side of the city. By this time, it has been two months and three dates for Chan, with your time spend with said boy having reduced significantly. “Are you guys okay? Have you been talking lately?”

You furrowed your brows and nodded in genuine confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“It feels like he wants to ask me about you but he won’t say it directly.” Dahyun shrugged, leaning back on the seats. “It kinda gives me the impression that you guys fought or something.”

“We didn’t fight.” You assured with a small frown. “Nothing happened, really.”

“Then what is it?”

It took you a moment to answer as your mind instinctively went to the conversation you previously had with Seungmin. “I...you know when someone points something out to you in a different light and then it makes you think of a lot of things?” When you saw Dahyun nod slowly, you then took it as your cue to admit, “It’s something like that, I guess.”

And like you, it also took a moment for Dahyun to answer. “Well, how do you feel about it?” She asked back as a response. “I think I know what this is about but you don’t have to tell me if you’re uneasy telling me about it.”

And you were uneasy and confused, very much so. “I don’t think I’m feeling anything special about it, really.” You admitted in a smaller voice, finding your attention flitting down to your hands on your lap. “I feel like I’m just thinking too much on what that someone said and how they said it.”

“Then it’s probably nothing, easy as that. Don’t let people’s words get into your head too much, especially on things like this—if we are thinking of the same thing—or else it’s gonna feel like you’re being forced into having different feelings or think differently.” Dahyun shrugged with a reassuring smile. “If otherwise, even then don’t overthink it too much. Just let things happen as they are.”

When you didn’t respond immediately, she then took your silence to quickly add, “Anyway, bottom line is, whatever it really is that you’re feeling or thinking, don’t ignore Chan for it. Talk to him about it specifically if it helps just don’t make him feel left out just because you’re on a one-sided awkward situation.”

It was a tough love kind of advice but Dahyun pestered you about it until she saw you approach Chan first over a week later, when you personally asked him to carpool to Bam Bam’s place for a year-end party.

You’ve never seen Chan’s face light up as much as it did on that day at the campus library.

“R-Really?” He stuttered out in disbelief and suddenly, all hints of drowsiness had disappeared on his expression. “I mean, c-cool! Uh, what time should I pick you and Dahyun up?”

“Ah, well, what time should you pick up Soyeon if she’s going to carpool with us?” You asked slowly, rubbing your nape awkwardly as you stood next to his table.

His eyes widened in surprise before an equally awkward chuckle came out of his lips. “Soyeon’s not carpooling with us.”

“Hm?”

“She’s going with her own friends since they’re nearer to her place.” Chan nodded absentmindedly, pulling a chair for you to sit down. You took the place without hesitation, neck heating up in embarrassment over the thought that you seemed too eager. “We’re not actually dating anymore.”

“Oh?” You furrowed your brows as quickly as your expression almost lit up. “I mean, since when, if it’s okay to ask?”

“Since last week. I don’t know, we agreed that it’s really...not happening between us.” Chan shrugged nonchalantly, going back to his lecture notes. “It’s cool, though, we’re studying together next week at the new study hall near Itaewon.”

You nodded, exhaling a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding until then. “At least it’s not awkward or anything.”

“What about us?”

You immediately looked up at this, meeting Chan’s somewhat hopeful gaze that had you unexpectedly stammering, “W-what do you mean?”

“Did I do something wrong?” He pursed his lips nervously, voice growing smaller with each other. “It’s just that we haven’t talked a lot lately—or maybe I’m just overthinking it...”

You were quick to shake your head, mustering up a small smile. “No, you didn’t do anything.” You assured him gently. “I’ve just been—it’s nothing.”

“Really?”

You nodded, breathing in another sigh of relief. “Yeah, I just had a lot of things going on then. It’s okay now.”

And it really was okay then. Talking to Chan again assured you at the time that you liked him as a friend. You really really liked him at the time as a friend.

Third year meant preparing for your senior year and going on your Junior Year internship which is probably why Bam Bam scheduled a trip to his hometown in Bangkok in the summer before this. It was just him, you, Chan, Dahyun, Jihyo, and Minho as a kind of mini high school reunion—the small kind of gathering everyone naturally hopes for with the pacing of university life.

You stayed at his family’s house where his parents offered you the entire expanse of the living room to have a movie night and sleepover in on your first night, right before the overwhelming itinerary Bam Bam planned for the next five days.

“Rock-paper-scissors for the beds!” Bam Bam announced after your sixth movie of the night. The Meg really wasn’t that amazing in your collective opinion but that didn’t stop you from putting it at the bottom of your To-Watch list just to throw as much nonsensical comments as you can on it. “The expandable couch goes to first, second, and third; the smaller one goes to fourth, and fifth and sixth get the air bag!”

Unsurprisingly, you and Chan had to share the grey air bag because you simply were just unlucky that night (you accidentally got a Pringles bag that had more air on it than chips prior) and Chan was so sleepy right next to Minho from cramming a passion project with Changbin and Jisung on call. Not that you minded, you were actually glad you didn’t have to put up with Bam Bam kicking you in his sleep or Minho waking you up with his cuss-filled sleep talking.

“Are you okay with this, sharing an air bed, I mean.” Chan had asked you as you prepared to sleep some time at 3 AM. He was hunched over on the side of the mattress that wasn’t pushed to the wall, laptop perched on top of his area as he continued fighting sleep and finishing his project. Everyone else had gone to sleep earlier. “I can totally just ask Bam for a sleeping bag if you want me to.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him as you spread the blanket over the entire expanse of the small air bed before sliding in and taking your phone out from under your pillow. “Aren’t you slidi—tucking in too, though?”

His face lit up in genuine surprise, slowly shifting into appreciation and fondness right in front of you as he caught the concern in your own face despite the phone blocking his view. “In a bit...I’m just making a few adjustments with this.”

Changbin and Jisung erupted into yells on the three-way video call, their voices bursting so suddenly on Chan’s headphones that he immediately muted them before you could ask or even notice.

Fortunately, you didn’t. “Oh, then don’t stay up too late, Chan.” You pointed out in even more concern. You knew how he could get whenever he pulled all-nighters, you realized. “We have to start really early tomorrow—or later.”

He hummed absentmindedly with a small nod as he continued nodding, glancing back up at you again after a moment. “Then you should go to sleep already, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

“Who said I’m waiting up for you? I’m scrolling through my Instagram.” But despite your teasing tone, you still ended up scrolling through your phone until he finished his project, bidding Changbin and Jisung a quick good morning before ending the call and sliding in under his share of the covers.

“Okay now go to sleep.” He chuckled tiredly as he gazed down on you, hand accidentally brushing against your own in the small gap between the two of you as he placed it right next to his head.

“But you’re watching me,” You frowned disapprovingly. “turn around or something.”

“I sleep better like this and what if I closed my eyes and you took pictures even with my back turned?” He feigned a pout, bringing his hand under the pillow as he shifted more comfortably in place. “You sleep first.”

“You’re so childish.” You giggled, shaking your head stubbornly. “I won’t do that.”

“As if you aren’t too right now. You’re probably thinking about it.”

“On three, then? One—”

“Two—“

“Three.” With your cue, the two of you then closed your eyes at the same time, only to peek one each right after. “Ya!”

You eventually managed to fall asleep at the same time half an hour later with Chan reluctantly turning around for you once you had your eyes closed. He’d only see your sleeping expression a little bit later, when he woke up to use the bathroom at 7 AM and came back to check up on you sleeping comfortably and move more of the blanket to your shoulders.

“Look at these eyebags, you could carry souvenirs in them later.” Minho chuckled next to you on the ride to your first trip destination after, laughing even more when you swatted his index finger that moved up in an attempt to poke your eyes. “Nightmare? The Meg wasn’t even about ghosts, Y/N.”

“No, I just slept late.” You sighed, leaning back on your seat. “Chan and I stayed up a little longer.”

At this, Minho’s eyes visibly lit up and he wiggled his eyebrows mischievously at you, prompting a disgusted look on your face. “Ooh, did something spicy finally happen between you two?”

“No—and please never do that again, it’s disgusting!”

“It’s my eyebrows!”

Minho ended up teasing you throughout the whole trip, anyway, as you and Chan repeated almost the exact same routine every night.

You had your Junior Year Internship at a media network across the city and though Chan insisted multiple times that he can drive you to work before going to his own at an entertainment company in the opposite direction, you managed to convince him that you really can commute this time and spend the night at Minho’s if you went overtime. No hard feelings this time.

So with what his presence in your life suddenly lacked in being your everyday transportation, he made up for by spamming you constantly online.

“This place has Tim Tams in their cafeteria!” He’d send you the most random photos and videos of his day-to-day working in song production at the entertainment company, from actual work-related matters like sophisticated equipment he was allowed to use to the small things like the extensive cafeteria food and his boss’ pet Labrador. “What are you having for lunch?”

Being a P.A. at a media network, however, was much more fast-paced and required you to be running everywhere on your work hours. Chan understood, of course (hence the sudden influx of dog photos during a particular period that had you working overtime almost every day), but it still made you feel bad for replying so late because, whether you admitted it or not, his constant updates alleviated your stress.

More often than not, his spams would be responded with photos of you on the subway and video clips of Minho and his roommate who are always practicing cheer dance moves in their living room. “I had three Snickers today but I drank a lot of water so that should count for something!” You often replied, following with a clip of Minho falling on his butt after tiredly trying to land a flip. “This is your Minho update of the day. He’s getting there! I think he’s going to try out for cheer dance captain this year!”

At the end of the semester, Chan was more than happy seeing you again, so much so that he treated you with lunch and even offered you ice cream after. “You’re going to make up for all the full meals you’ve missed this semester!” He insisted as he picked you up from Minho’s place. The two of you ended up at a ramen house which was a far jump from your usual fast food dates—something you thought about the entire time.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” You laughed but you let him order you food anyway since it was free. “Extra nori and eggs, please!”

You exchanged internship stories throughout the entirety of your lunch, laughing along to his stories of falling asleep in the middle of work and hearing his endless teasing over you getting starstruck with assisting your favorite artists on the job. You didn’t actually miss out on a lot of his shenanigans (that’s how heavily he spammed you) but you stayed in the ramen house for more than two hours, unconsciously drifting off to different topics and gossiping about your friends until the slight embarrassment of overstaying creeped in.

“Speaking of friends, I haven’t seen everyone else lately too.” Chan mused on your ride back home. He had his CD he secretly produced over his internship period playing on the radio as well as one hand on the steering while while the other fought you over the air conditioning. “I just know that you and Jacob train for volleyball together on weekends, Lisa’s busy with club duties, Bam Bam’s on an exchange student thing and Jihyo recently introduced us to the person she’s dating now.”

You leaned back in your seat and shrugged, finally giving up on the air conditioning to open the windows instead and admire the Han river on your side of the road. “Well, you know how Minho’s been doing with my updates and I haven’t seen Dahyun in a while too since she’s taking the most classes this semester.” You explained, extending your hand outside to feel the gentle Autumn breeze. Chan, despite being the swimmer between the two of you, thinks you’re crazy for liking the cold better. “As for many many other people I know, they’re either studying really hard or starting work now. Time flies and friends come and go, I guess...”

When you glanced over at him again, you saw his face scrunched up in thought as his hands blindly found the gear stick to slow down at an intersection. Once you reach the red light, he then meets your gaze, uncertainty in his expression that he tried playing off with a shrug. “Yeah but...is it weird if I said I don’t want that to happen with us?”

“N-No?” You found yourself answering before you could fully comprehend the question. Clearing your throat, you tried joking it off, “I think you might’ve taken the ‘I’m class president let me show you around’ thing back in high school, Chan.”

He shrugged, smiling as well at this. “Maybe I did, who knows? I like spending time with you.”

“I force you, you’re my ride around the city.” You teased, hints of sincerity coming through your tone of voice.

“But that’s because I like you, isn’t that what people do with people they like?” He said it with so much nonchalance but you couldn’t help but feel flustered at this, a reaction you immediately hid by laughing.

“You like me too much, it’s going to cause a traffic with all this sentimental stuff,” You pointed out, the cars behind you suddenly honking annoyedly as if on cue. “See? Even the people behind us agree.”

Chan wasn’t offended, however, not one bit as he continued rambling about liking you all the way to your dorm after. It flustered you at first, especially with how casual he was being, but, as you neared the turn to your dorm outside of university, you eventually caught up with teasing him back about it.

When you thought about it on your own once he left, you realized that you somehow liked it. It felt very natural—as if it’s something that’s always felt right hearing from him.

“I like Chan.”

“Yeah no shit.” Minho agrees absentmindedly, Seungmin and Jeongin nodding along while emptying their take-out boxes. You carpooled with Chan today as he drove Felix and Jisung somewhere to help them finish their term research paper. You were only supposed to hang out with Seungmin and Jeongin but Minho decided to ambush the three of you with Jihyo and Mina on their way to join your group at the younger boys’ dorm. “What else is new, Y/N? We haven’t met up like this in a while so I was expecting something spicier!”

“No, I mean—” You roll your eyes at him, smacking him with your rolled up lecture notes but to no avail. The boy simply opened his phone to check his messages, frowning when he then comes across a message from Jihyo and Mina informing him that they’re stuck in traffic. “I really like Chan.”

“Okay, and then?”

“I’m telling you I actually like someone then you dismiss me.”

“And I mean that took you a record-breaking three years to say.” Minho points out, finally closing his phone and propping an elbow up on the table to face you properly. “What has you sharing this to us on this fine Saturday, hm? Did you get jealous over someone again and got so insecure that you realize your feelings? Did you get stuck in a really small space, admired his face a bit then realize that you think he’s cute? Which trope is it?”

You shake your head disapprovingly at him, briefly glaring at Seungmin and Jeongin when the two start snickering next to you before answering, “Nothing, just...we talked lately and I thought that I really like talking to him.”

“So you don’t like talking to us?” It’s Jeongin teasing you this time as he sipped on his juice box, earning him a crumpled ball of paper on the head. “I thought it’d be more grand like in those K-Dramas.”

“You flood your crush with Pepero boxes and now you’re talking big with K-Drama confessions.” Seungmin points out, making the other boy in question roll his eyes.

You open your mouth to speak but Jeongin beats you to it. “Talk to me when you’ve confessed to that figure skater at your university, baseball boy.” He says before turning to you again, placing a hand over Seungmin’s face and dramatically pushing him away by his head. “Anyway, back on topic! So, will you ask him out?”

“I don’t know, should I?” You frown, leaning back on the sofa behind you with your arms crossed. “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Minho shakes his head. “It’s 2020 so go wild, my friend. Anyway, if it doesn’t work out I already got my driver’s license—though I will tax you since you live far away.”

You roll your eyes, hitting him again. When his roommate passes by, half-asleep and dragging their feet towards the kitchen, you hear them request another smack on Minho’s head on their behalf as if on instinct. “I mean, do you just go for it? What if you don’t feel enough for people for it to work out?”

A pause then follows in the room, even Minho’s roommate momentarily stopped gulping down water from across the open common area. Seungmin and Minho sigh while Jeongin only raises an eyebrow with the same curiosity.

“Yes, Y/N.” Minho answers after a moment, tsking at you as he does so. This time, you gather the energy to smack him for the fourth time as quickly. “It’s dating not marriage, just see what works and what doesn’t.”

Seungmin opens his mouth to say something else, probably to comment on how Minho doesn’t apply the sentiments to his own love life, but he nods in agrement anyway. “I think it’s like you always tell me: don’t overthink it.” He adds instead, briefly turning his head to Minho after. “But I’m going to pretend you didn’t bring it up first, hyung.”

Don’t overthink it. Even Jihyo and Mina agreed when they arrived, pestering you into going over your entire rant and dilemma again once they arrived with beer and convenience store food. Dahyun too, but only a little later when Jihyo puts her on FaceTime.

“Just wing it,” She even added to assure you, glitching a bit on video because public library wi-fi has never been better than that.. “it’s just Chan, what could go wrong?”

And really, with Chan, nothing ever does feels like it’s going to go wrong even when the situation has your heart on the line.

“Chan, give me your hand.” You extend your hand out to his side of the car with your palms facing upwards, chuckling when he glances over to you with wide eyes. “I won’t tickle you this time, promise.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asks as he reluctantly moves his hand from the steering wheel to your hand, alternating his gaze between the road and you on his side in long intervals. “I’ll have you know that we’re about to turn to a narrower road so don’t try anything funny.”

“Like I said, I’ll just hold your hand.” You feign a pout, bringing your hands down on the compartment in between your seats. “There.”

You won’t tell it to his face right now, of course, but holding his hand is comforting to you.

He invited you to a small film festival for today, a thirty-minute ride to a place he only heard of on the poster for it that he showed you at the start of the week. “Bam Bam’s too busy to come with so I thought I’d invite you since you’re free this week!” He explained over the phone and you knew Bam Bam is really busy when it’s you who Chan is inviting to these kinds of everyday. “They have lots of animated movies on the line-up too so I immediately thought of you!”

“Your hands are so small.” Chan comments after a moment, shaking your intertwined fingers gently as the car stops at traffic.

You poke on his knuckles in response. “You just have really big hands.”

“Your hands are clammy too.” He points out next with a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Because you won’t turn the air conditioning up, dumbass.” You roll your eyes, scoffing when he doesn’t move his hand anyway. “So why don’t you let go?”

“Because I like holding your hand.” He shrugs, biting down a small smile. The traffic still won’t move and he takes this as an opportunity to look at you as much as he can. “I like you a lot—even with your clammy hands.”

“I—” You freeze with your mouth hanging open, finally catching onto his smile. “Ya, what’s with the smile? Did you...did Minho say something?”

“What? No. I can’t smile now?” And it’s the truth, you find out much later when Chan calls Minho for you and puts him on loud speaker to disprove your suspicions. “Why? What am I supposed to not know until now?”

You squint your eyes suspiciously at him, shifting your hands around his but to no avail. “That I—I was going to say it first today. I like you too—a lot.” You sigh in defeat, leaning back on your seat and twisting your body to face him properly. The traffic is slowly starting to move again and Chan briefly turns away to move the car, turning to you as soon as traffic permits him again. “It’s a bit embarrassing to say right now, my hands are so clammy and you’re holding onto them the entire time.”

“It’s not because you’re nervous, right?” He asks with the smallest glint of teasing in his eyes which you shake your head at immediately. “It’s just us.”

“I told you, it’s because the air conditioning’s too low.” You chuckle, finally relaxing your shoulders in relief. Chan then lifts your hands up to the air conditioning unit jokingly, turning up the level with his knuckles. “And it’s exactly why I’m not nervous, because it’s just us.”

“Me too, to be honest. I’d be freaking out right now if Minho or Lisa or just anyone else peered over our shoulders.” You hear him mumble under his breath in a sheepish giggle. A thought then crosses his mind as he glances over to you, the traffic now moving much more smoothly. “So, I can still ask you if this is a date, right? The cinema’s still five minutes away with this traffic.”

You pretend to purse your lips in thought, bringing your hands back down once they’ve dried with the sudden rise in temperature. “Isn’t this too last minute even for you?” You tease, making him frown. “Ah, well, better late than never I guess.”

“I’ll make it up to you on the second date, promise.” He assures you, turning right to your destination. “Jus don’t back out on this being a date now, okay?”

“Of course not.”

“So boring.” It’s Bam Bam teasing you this time, Minho agreeing on the side. The one time he’s actually free to hang out and he sasses you throughout the entire night. “I expected more from you two.”

“It’s...two people dating in college, not a romcom, Bam.” You deadpan before taking a sip of your soju.

He shrugs from across the table anyway, passing you another bottle. “I guess being in love makes you a little boring. I don’t blame you.”

You slap a hand up to your forehead while Chan is practically drunk and dying next to you in embarrassment. “Oh God...”

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bruisedknuckledbuckshot · 2 years ago

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Rules

Lets get down to the Basics:

I love shitpostings but it also extends out to muse drama, violence and gore.

If you are not sure about something just ask me, I hardly bite.

AUs are more than welcome but it kind of depends on if Angel will fit into something like per say ‘Coffee shop AU’ or ‘Collage AU’.

I am a ‘single’ ship blog. So when I say Angel is taken in a particular verse or two, he’s taken. I am not into multishipping really but poly might be optional. Nor will i engage with someone that multiships one muse for romance or another "collectors" item to a long list of ships. Its annoying..

Please note that chemistry for either family, lovers or friends is a must.

When it comes to shipping I will not judge on what and who you ship with. To each, their own just do not expect me to ship something you do and vice Versa. I have my own “questionable” ships but last time I checked I know reality from fiction

I should probably add that in the case of shipping I do not care if YOU multi ship. I am just not too into it (unless a trio) considering I really do not want Angel or any other OC of mine to be another line up of “conquests”. Friendships and crushes are more than okay. But otherwise it makes the bond feel a little artificial to me if that makes sense. And after a few private dramas and my own messy feelings I am not freely into it much anymore. If there is a relationship that does not work out that’s great too. I am mostly here for character development and growth

I don’t always follow back everyone, so please take no offense I appreciate follows it just things clog my dash or your muse just might not be the type my muses would interact with but don’t feel too say to hit me up even if we are not mutuals. Interactions through asks are fine.

As I have said I RP with just about anyone, these are multiverse muses, OCs are welcome obviously. Just please have a bit of a background history so I can understand what kind of characters they are. Please have some rules so i know boundaries.

I would be happy to interact with more than one version of Canon characters, Au or not and such.

I AM open to constructive criticism about my OC.

Definite Noes:

Please do not just abruptly kill my muse out of nowhere. Its rude. At least ask.

Having scuffles and fights can be spontaneous. If my character pisses yours off feel free to take a shot at him. Expect him to react the same way vice versa without hesitation.

Angel IS a trained mercenary, and has a habit of getting only more enraged the more injuries he sustains. Don’t expect him to go down after one hit unless critical injury.

No Godmodding or try to OP my muses right off the bat. Unless it is a thing your muse can do as a power just give a head’s up.

Do not force my muses into a relationship unless both parties agree and there is chemistry. That means just because one ships it the other mun might not. Crushes and unrequited love are just as great.

I won’t RP mature situations with minor RPers and muses below the age of at least 18 so don’t ask. It does not mean i won’t RP with you otherwise.

New rule added that if we do not interact, IC or OOC at any point in time from a full month or three I will unfollow, simple as that. Unless said person disappears I’ll give it a while first before it seems they are not coming back then proceeded to do so.

I wont RP smutty or suggestive things with minors- Or smut with just anyone- So please don’t lie about your age.

New Note that I am uncomfortable with RPing with people younger than 18-20 as I feel like a total creep otherwise.

About Mun:

Mun is a 30+ year old female. As far as I have been RPing at least 13-14 years by now My writing can still get crappy due to dyslexia that seem to be worse on some days. Please excuse any grammar mistakes as I will try to make sure they are correct. Though as of late my details have been lacking due to health issues and family things, so if I sound off or does not make sense let me know and I will try to clarify.

I also RP on Discord.

I hope I do not appear intimidating as I am actually a nervous cluster of anxiety, so i am more likely to be shyer than you and hope to make friends.

Your length is my length so it can go from short to long and detailed as i can get. But something of substance is great. One liners are mostly for crack RPs.

Mun has NO triggers besides political crap. Here for fun- not IRL drama. Please at least tag those or I will unfollow if spammed.

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spilledkauffie · 4 years ago

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In Your Dreams

Repost from an old account I deleted!!!

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader (mutant) AU: first class era Word Count: 2.0k T/W: a little flirty A/N: the reader’s power is controlling water!

A hazy start, first a bright light then… a calm. Shifting onto your back, you groaned a little while squinting your eyes at the illumination flooding your pupils. It didn’t take long for you to sit up, curious as to where you were instantly. You felt your hands almost sink, only ever so slightly though you were quick to retreat them. Observing the terrain beneath you, you picked up a handful and watched it slip through your fingers. Beautiful pure sand, falling from your palm. The sound of distant seagulls came next, until it was quiet. Quiet enough to hear your own breathing. Momentarily you felt alone. Picking yourself up, you stood slowly, still unsure of your surroundings. It wasn’t a familiar place and it didn’t seem dangerous, you drew obvious speculations. Making the decision to walk around, you found several sporadically placed seashells along the path your foot prints made in the moldable sand.

“Oh,” you gasped, happily stepping toward a gorgeously coloured shell.

Taking it gently in your hands, you rubbed your thumbs across the surface, revealing a chrome-like coat to the shell. Smiling, you rather enjoyed the peacefulness of, well, wherever you were. Continuing your collection, you lost track of time, never really sure what time it had been to begin with. A breeze came about, fluffing your hair and rosing your cheeks. Closing your eyes, you breathed deeply. Such a calm had long escaped your life. Always on the run, hiding, being scared of what would happen… all those thoughts faded, as if they never even existed. A graceful smile spread across your lips, simply standing happily with the sand between your toes and seashells in hand. The sun was warm, but not too hot. The trees that were rustling in the wind provided shade. And the ocean’s waves-

Stopping your cleansing inhale, you opened your eyes ploddingly, “oh...”

Another bright, soft light and you found yourself batting your eyelashes. Adjusting to a morning glow of sunlight. This time you knew exactly where you were. Glass windows, a dark wooden room, soft sheets and careful, tender circles being stroked against the temple of your forehead by loving fingertips. Shifting onto your opposite side, you opened your eyes, the loss of physical contact wasn’t ideal, but now you could see him. Sitting next to you in bed, book in hand and back against the headboard, his hand hovered over your temple. Gazing upward, you waited until his mind told him you were up before he glanced downward.

“Good morning,” Charles smiled, voice as tranquil as ever, while he took to stroking your hair, “sleep alright, Love?”

“You know,” you sighed, shifting, “I’ve never had a dream about water, despite being able to control it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you were telling him just how aware you were of him giving you a good dream the very night after you told him you often had nightmares. You heard a soft chuckle, watching him bite his lip and furrow his eyebrows next, as he looked you over. In cases like these you desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. Instead you met his insatiable blue eyes, adoring how they reminded you of crystal clear water, a calm you seldom saw within yourself.

“Wait, so, you’re-are you telling me that you’ve never dreamt of water, in any case at all?” Charles closed the book in his hand and turned to see you better.

“Never,” you admitted, observing how he smiled widely following your answer.

Though unsure why he was so happy, you smiled back. Leaning in, closer to you, Charles shook his head with amazement, slipping his hand down from your hair to rest against the side of your neck endearingly.

“Do you realise that your subconscious not acknowledging your conscious power directly could be able to explain where specific mutations lay in the chambers of the mind?”

He trailed off on some scientific explanation and you tried your best to listen, but when he talked so excitedly and intelligently, it was difficult to pay attention. There was something terribly attractive about it. The placement of his hand wasn’t helping either, you felt his finger tips move when he began explaining certain terms excitedly, sending a shiver throughout your skin.

“Insanely informational and so very fascinating. A very groovy mutation,” Charles said with a pause and a look that could stop your heart. He straightening up to lean back against the headboard, “I wonder.”

Removing his hands from you, he picked up another book from the pile he always kept on his side of the bed. Dropping your shoulders, you were hoping he’d pick up on your thoughts. He wasn’t the very best with romance, but you really weren’t asking for much, just a little flirting maybe a kiss, anything. Being so busy with the X-men training, you wanted some form of affection to take place. Knowing you might have to be the first to engage, you did. He’d catch on the instant he grasped the concept it just took a push when he was preoccupied.

“You know I love it when you talk like that,” you smiled, musing your voice.

“Talk like what?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the pages he flipped through.

“I think you know,” you tilted your head, lifting yourself up, allowing the sheets to gracefully cascade down your body, folding at your waist, exposing the beauty of your skin.

“I- what, when,” he stuttered, taking a few looks up from his book, attempting to subtly scan your frame.

“Though I’m sure you’re much too busy with work and the team,” you sighed playfully, hoping to draw his attention in, “I know you don’t have much time for, well, other things.”

Combing your hands through your hair, you worked out the tangles, carefully. Charles watched as your perfectly messied hair fell smoothly. It lead his eyes to your bare neck and shoulders, temptingly. The way your skin managed to slightly glisten from the morning sunlight dancing about the room was undeniably stunning.Your eyelashes fluffed with every seductive bat you gave them.

“Depends on what sort of things,” he placed the book aside, noting the smile that spread across your lips and the thought that ran through your mind.

Biting your lip and containing a giggle, you drug your hand up his thigh teasingly, while closing the distance between the two of you, “why don’t you read my mind?”

A polite smirk and chuckle was all you received before feeling his hand grace your skin, making you blush at the softness he always touched you with. Batting your eyelashes, you closed your eyes again, this time lips finally being met by his. It was gentle, yet deep and oh so adoring. It amazed you at truly how talented he was at making you swoon so easily. Rather enjoying the kiss, you leaned forward when he pulled back, in hopes of bringing him back into the kiss.

“Oh, Darling,” Charles whispered almost empathetically, lips moving against the corner of yours, “I’ve pictured that so many times.”

Your lips parted subconsciously, he truly was diving into your thoughts, even those thoughts. The stroke of his fingertips against your temple soon turned to him spreading his fingers through your hair. Breath hitching, you felt your heartbeat increase. His other hand ghosted down your rib cage, to your navel, settling at your hips.

“Except, how about this time you call me Professor?”

Biting your lip again and curling your toes a little you smiled, happy with the direction the situation was headed, “hmm, Ch-“

“Kinky,” a voice from the doorway chimed in, making you grab the sheets to hold tightly against your body, “and of all people I least expected you.”

“Well, we all have learning to do about each other,” Charles played it off calmly, sure to erase the memory from Erik’s mind at a later time, “you most of all should know kinky.”

Seeing a slight flinch in Erik, you smirked.

“And this is something I suggest you don’t get between,” you glared towards Erik.

“What’re you going to do?” Erik raised an eyebrow with a quiet scoff, “drain my bath water?”

“No,” you perked an annoyed eyebrow yourself, “but humans are sixty percent water...I’m sure I could think of something creative.”

Dipping his head Charles refrained from showing his amusement, not wanting to aggravate anyone: he opted to play the peacekeeper as per usual. Reaching to hold your hand, he looked over to Erik, who was now clearly unamused with the whole situation.

“We’ll be down in a few minutes, I promise,” he nodded, “kindly make sure everyone else is down, please, Erik?”

A reluctant, but accepting nod was returned before Erik left. Still staring the direction of the doorway, you were brought back to the prior mood by a hand rubbing up and down your arm. Tilting your head, you sighed, proceeding to straddle his lap. Charles set his hand on either side of your hips, looking up curious as to what you were playing at. Setting your arms atop his shoulders you got lost for a moment in his ocean eyes.

“Are we ever going to get a moment alone in this place?” You asked seriously, aware of the school he wanted to create from the mansion.

“Of course,” he chuckled in response, before noticing your demeanour.

You didn’t smile or laugh, you just looked away and dropped your shoulders. You knew he would ask, so you spoke.

“I just feel like we never have time,” you shrugged, “we can’t stay in bed, or go to dinner by ourselves, or...other things. Not without other people constantly being around us here.”

Bouncing you slightly, he drew back your attention with a smile and his hands studying the curve of your back. He loved how romantic you were trying to be, and that you were expressing emotions with him, no mind telepathy involved. But you were right, it was going to be very busy and very taxing soon with the team and future students. He always pictured you by his side through it all though. The chance of losing you always frightened him, even though he could see there wasn’t even a hint of doubt in your mind for your love.

He stayed silent, keen to listen to you continue, “I just- I just want a moment. One moment, just with you.”

“We’ll have several more,” he said sincerely, “I promise you that, Love.”

Filing through your thoughts subtly, he found images and ideas of the two of you in the future that you had thought up, even with the school he wanted. You were by his side and he by yours, always. There were several different versions where you wore a sparkling ring on your left hand in those ideas, which he much appreciated; a smile pulling at his lips when he saw those images, every time.

Seeing how your iris’ sparkled in the sunlight, as you looked toward the window made him fall more in love with you by the moment. It wasn’t something he was used to, but now he never wanted to lose it. You were the one person that let him in completely, you didn’t want to hide anything, as most people did. You wanted him to feel free to use his power just as much as he encouraged you to. His heart practically stopped the moment you turned back to him.

“I swear you are ethereal,” Charles whispered, brushing his fingertips against your cheek, watching your smile reappear.

“Stop using fancy words I don’t know to turn me on,” you raised an eyebrow, happy with the intimate proximity, “especially when you’ve just made a promise.”

A soft chuckle came before his explanation, “it’s an adjective, of which means delicate to the point of appearing not to be of this world, in other words: heavenly.”

Rolling your eyes, you hardly thought of yourself as heavenly, but you smile nonetheless just hearing him call you that, “maybe in my dreams you could make me.”

“I can make a lot happen in your dreams,” Charles winked with a charming expression, “and...I’ll make them come true. That’s a promise.”

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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years ago

Text

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 10

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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TW: non-con, although nothing explicit

[Hermione]

Hermione leans on the bar table for support, one hand clutching her drink and the other rubbing at her temple. The room is spinning, and she's dizzy, nauseous, and unable to focus her eyes on anything.

With one blinding exception, of course. In her peripheral vision, she can see the security guard dragging Ron Weasley from the venue, his arms flailing as he stumbles alongside. Against all odds, his vibrant red hair always draws her attention, even when it's entirely inappropriate.

"Can you believe him?" growls Cormac, massaging his eye. "Bartender, ice."

The bartender abruptly stops wiping down the table to stare back at Cormac, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "Bartender?"

"Yeah. Ice."

Hermione takes a long swig through her straw and glances between Cormac and the bartender, who seem to be sizing each other up.

The bartender flashes her name card at Cormac and offers a smile that looks more fake than genuine. "Sure, you can have some ice," she says sweetly. "But for next time, my name is Rosmerta."

Rosmerta turns away from the bar, muttering something about rude tourists. Hermione makes a mental note to leave her a good tip at the end of the night.

Once Rosmerta's out of earshot, Cormac turns to Hermione. "Why is everyone being so rude to me today? First your ex-boyfriend, now that old broad?"

His comment, and more specifically, the way he says it feels slimy to Hermione, as if his 'woe is me' attitude is nothing more than an effort to rack up pity points.

"Aww, you're almost done with your drink," he says, right as Rosmerta returns with a pack of ice. He snatches the ice from her hands and demands, "Another for the lady."

Hermione's cheeks heat up in embarrassment. No 'thank you' for the ice, no 'please' for the drink — what does she see in this guy? Other than the fact that he's conveniently interested in her, and he's not Ron, of course. Hermione mouths an apology to Rosmerta when the bartender saunters off to refill Hermione's glass.

"Rosmerta has been lovely to us. She's not an old broad," says Hermione to Cormac, who's now pressing the packet of ice to his bruised eye. "And he's not my ex-boyfriend."

Cormac chuckles. "It sure looks like something happened between you and ginger. By the way you dumped ice water on him, you'd think he cheated on you or something."

Hermione stiffens at the reminder of Lavender's mischievous look as she buttoned her blouse in the hallway, followed by the nonchalant way Ron waltzed up to her just now, as if nothing had happened between them. She covers up her shaky hand with another drawn-out sip of her strong drink, forcing down the bitter taste with a grimace.

"I'm glad you never dated the ginger because you can do so much better. Like me, for instance." Cormac motions to himself, a smug smile on his face.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione puts the straw back to her lips — she really should have asked Rosmerta to hold the straw, but thanks to Cormac, they were already the most demanding couple at the bar, and she didn't want to put any more stress on the poor woman.

She glances over to her companion. So far he's been quite rude — embarrassingly so — and has only talked about himself. He spotted her on the dance floor a short while before and seemed kind enough, so she'd agreed to get a drink with him. She hadn't let herself get a good look at him earlier, so her eyes trace over Cormac's body now, his biceps bulging from his too-tight polo, his chiseled jawline. Underneath the bruise, his eyes are nice. They're not impossibly blue, like tropical seas she can get lost in, but they're not bad.

He's actually quite good-looking, but he'd be even easier on the eyes if he didn't know it. Pompousness is not a trait Hermione looks for in a man.

But she's not looking for anything serious with Cormac, so maybe she can turn the other cheek to some of his more unpleasant qualities. A bit more alcohol might help. She's just here to have fun, after all. Cormac seems to be an appropriate option for that.

As if reading her mind, Cormac leans over to her and whispers, "What do you say? Want to get out of here?"

It's the memory of Lavender fastening her blouse, her smug 'Give him a chance to get dressed first' that gives her response all the permission needed to slip from her lips.

"I guess."

"I'll take that as a yes," says Cormac, rising to his feet and tugging at Hermione's arm.

She stumbles out of her chair, somewhat surprised by his constricting grip on her wrist. It almost cuts off her circulation and would feel unnecessary in any other circumstance.

But she also stood up too quickly and is momentarily flustered and dizzy, so maybe she has his support to thank for not falling down.

"Oh my god, I'm drunk, aren't I?"

Cormac scoffs, sliding his arm around her waist to support her. His hand lands a little too low on her hips for comfort. It doesn't feel anything like Ron's did — caring, gentle, and responsive to communication. Yet, she's hesitant to say anything and bring his attention to what lies beneath his fingers, just in case his hand placement isn't intentional. She might ruin something innocent. That, or he might read too much into her taking notice. She's unsure which is more likely.

"You seem perfectly in control to me," says Cormac.

His softly-spoken comment flushes out some of her self-consciousness — before, she feared that she looked sloppy, messy, unattractive. But it also irritates her, invalidating her difficulty standing and walking in a straight line without the support of his body up against hers. Plus, the fact that it's nearly a whisper, and she can barely hear him suggests that she's not the one he's trying to convince.

Maybe she's reading too much into everything, and it's just the alcohol talking.

They continue across the dance floor and out the doors, his thick hand steady on her hip. When they reach the stairs and the music quiets down, he picks up the conversation again.

"For real. What did that boy do? You said he lied to you?"

Right. Hermione glances at Cormac, who's smirking at her, and decides he doesn't need to know the details.

"Oh, that? It was nothing."

"Nothing gets a drink in the face?" laughs Cormac. "Well, lucky for me, I like them a little feisty."

His words immediately make Hermione uncomfortable. He likes them feisty? How many feisty notches are there on Cormac's bedpost? Is she sensing an attraction to a woman who fights back? Her head spins, and again, she has to remind herself that it's probably just the alcohol talking.

Still, something feels off.

When they make it to the top of the stairs, Hermione places some reluctant trust in her instincts and uses the flat ground as an opportunity to pull away from Cormac. In doing so, she accidentally slides her backside against his hand. As predicted, he interprets her movement incorrectly.

"I see what you're doing, Hermione," he growls. With a hum of appreciation, his fingers clench down through the fabric of her skirt and firmly grip her bum. He turns his body toward her and presses her back to the wall.

Hermione opens her mouth to speak up, but she doesn't know what to communicate. She's not sure if she wants him to stop or if she just wants assurance that he would if she told him to, but her racing mind has no clue how to phrase that request without ruining the possibility of a casual, consensual encounter.

He'd probably prefer the benefit of the doubt, as most men have come to expect it, but then there's the problem that he's nearly twice her height, his hands are as big as her face, and he likes them feisty, which might cause him to interpret dissent as a flirt or a challenge.

Hermione internally chastises herself for wasting time overthinking everything, again, because she instinctively knows that the longer she's quiet, the more her silence will sound like permission. It only takes a few seconds for her to run out of time to decide where she even falls on the spectrum between yes and no before his lips crash roughly into hers.

He presses his hips against her, and she can feel his erection digging into her leg. It's prepped and ready, and she's anything but.

He runs his tongue across her lips, and his grumble of pleasure reverberates into her throat. It takes effort, but she turns her head to the side. As she feared, he interprets this as an invitation to tug at the soft flesh of her neck with his teeth and slide his free hand up her dress until it cups her breast.

"Cormac—"

"Couldn't even wait until you got to my room, could you?" he muses, his lips dragging hungrily along her shoulder. "I could tell you wanted me, but damn."

A storm of anger boils up inside of her — his supposed confidence in feelings she herself has yet to identify is beyond invasive.

She can't get her hand between them for leverage. "Cormac, please—"

"You're welcome," he chuckles back, completely misinterpreting her meaning. Again.

His pinned hand tugs at the fabric of her dress, inching it up and over the curve of her bum and exposing her lacy knickers. "Ahh, you came prepared to fuck, didn't you?"

Another burst of anger and the following rush of adrenaline gives Hermione just enough strength to push him off of her, even if it's only for a second. "Cormac, please get off me."

He removes his mouth from her neck and narrows his eyes at her. "What?"

"I don't want to do this."

He doesn't move. "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious," says Hermione, her tone steady and firm.

"You agreed to leave the bar with me. What do you think I meant by that?" Cormac's face is reddening, and Hermione's palms respond by breaking out in a sweat. "Fucking tease."

"Hermione!"

A familiar voice — one that typically irritates her to her core — draws Cormac's attention away from Hermione for a split second, long enough to take a breath.

"We're busy here," he quips but pauses when he sees Lavender Brown, clad in a tight pink skirt and sparkly kitten heels. "Oh, hello there—"

"I can see that," says Lavender, narrowing her eyes at Hermione, who sends her a pleading glance. "But I have to steal Hermione away. It's an emergency."

Hermione's shoulders instantly relax — the irony of this being Lavender's second "emergency" excuse of the day isn't lost on her.

"It's not the best time," says Cormac. "But you're welcome to join us."

"Tempting. What's your room number?" she asks, batting her eyelashes while simultaneously reaching for Hermione's arm. "Maybe we'll meet you there in a bit."

Cormac grins as Hermione slips out from between his body and the wall. "I'm in room 407. I'll be waiting."

"Perfect! See you soon," says Lavender, looping Hermione's arm over her shoulder and turning her down the hall again.

Hermione can hear Cormac's content chuckles as they round the corner. As soon as they're out of his sight, she slips from Lavender's arm, instantly annoyed by her again.

"Why did you do that?" She tries to hide her irritation, but it escapes into her tone.

Lavender raises her eyebrows. "Um, you're welcome."

A tingle of guilt almost causes Hermione to apologize, but the uncomfortable notion of owing Lavender stops her. "I didn't need you to swoop in and save me. I had it under control."

Lavender scowls at her. "Well, from my perspective, it looked like he was going to take advantage of you right there in that hallway, so my instincts kicked in. Next time, I just won't bother."

They slow to a stop at room 210, and Lavender whips out her room key. "You're welcome to come in — I didn't think you'd want him to know where your room was. Especially since it's on the same floor as his."

The floodgates holding back Hemione's guilt break, and she's suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation for the girl holding open the door. She smiles sheepishly at Lavender as she passes her and enters the room.

"Thank you, Lavender. I'm… I'm sorry."

Lavender follows her in and lets the door shut behind her. "It's fine. I know we don't exactly get along, but I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

"I would." This, Hermione is sure of. At least, she thinks she is. If not, she should self-reflect, but that's an ordeal for sobriety.

"I'll make tea," says Lavender.

Hermione takes a seat at the kitchen bar, and silence fills the room. Her head collapses into her hands, and she gets lost in her thoughts while the water boils.

Tonight could have been an utter disaster.

Although thankful for Lavender's intervention — she shouldn't have left the bar with Cormac in the first place — there's a part of her that blames Lavender for it all. It was Hermione's jealousy that drove her to cling to the first guy to show interest tonight. She's hesitant to thank Lavender for fixing a problem she created in the first place.

The tea kettle whistles and jolts Hermione away from her thoughts.

Lavender pours her a cup and slides it over to Hermione, along with a bottle of aspirin.

"That will help you sober up."

"Thanks," grumbles Hermione.

Then Lavender takes a seat next to Hermione and says something that changes everything.

"I didn't have sex with Ron earlier today."

Hermione freezes, her mind overwhelmed with a tidal wave of rioting thoughts that can somehow be stripped down to one single word.

"What?"

Lavender sips her tea, her hand trembling. From nerves? Jealousy? Anger? Hermione doesn't know.

"When I came out of Ron's room and buttoned up my blouse, I was pretending." She glances away as she says it, her cheeks reddening under a blanket of foundation.

Hermione sighs, doing her best to steady her breath as to not give away the sheer amount of emotions Lavender just ignited. "Why… why did you do that?"

Lavender shrugs. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. I went to his room with the intention of flirting with him. We'd just slept together a few days ago, and I thought it would be the same. It wasn't the same."

Hermione's sudden envy doesn't make sense, and she knows that; she had no claim to Ron a few days ago. She has no claim to him now, really, so her relief that they didn't sleep together today has no bearing.

So is the fact that she just poured water over him and paraded around another bloke to 'get back at him' for something he never did. Hermione's stomach bubbles with nausea, and not from the alcohol.

"What happened in his room?" Hermione asks, aiming for a neutral tone.

Lavender sends her a sideways glance before answering, and according to her expression, Hermione's casual questions aren't fooling her at all.

"I saw you two at the bar, and I got jealous. I want him back so badly, and I thought this week in Vegas would finally make it happen. But his eyes have been on you since day one, and I don't understand. You and I are so different."

Different we are, thinks Hermione as she pulls another sip of tea to drown out her sudden self-consciousness.

"I can tell he's interested in you. He's expressed interest in other girls since we've broken up, but they always looked like me, and I would just pretend that was the reason he was looking. I can't do that with you."

Lavender's not straight-up insulting Hermione, but it feels that way, so her defenses start to rise. All Hermione can hear is, 'How can Ron be interested in someone like you?'

She's still avoiding Hermione's eye contact when she continues, "I got so jealous and insecure, and thought, 'why would Ron be interested in me, when he could have someone like Hermione?' Someone smart, successful, someone who doesn't need male attention to feel good about herself."

Hermione nearly drops her tea. She was way off the mark.

"I gave it one last-ditch effort. I followed him to his room, tried to flirt, and he rejected me. It confirmed he was interested in someone else, and he didn't have to tell me who. So when I saw you in the hallway, my instinct was to try and sabotage it."

Lavender finally looks at Hermione, and there are tears glistening in her eyes. Clearly, she feels awful.

She's not the only one.

"When I saw that guy basically forcing himself on you, I felt awful. I knew something bad must have gone down between you and Ron."

Hermione's eyes sting with tears, and Lavender notices. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Lavender smiles and wipes away the remaining tears from her eyes. "Okay, get out."

"What?" says Hermione, affronted, but then looks to see that Lavender's still grinning.

"You seem sober enough now, and we're still not friends. But at least you know that… it's not about you," she laughs, and finally making sense of Lavender's dry humor, Hermione can't help but laugh back.

"Men," says Hermione, and it's all she needs to say for Lavender to snort.

"Are the worst," she continues. "But Ron's a good one. Go find him at the bar. He's probably looking for you."

"About that," says Hermione, and Lavender's eyes narrow in curiosity. "He got kicked out. I splashed water on him, and then he punched Cormac."

Her eyes widen. "Wow."

"Yeah," says Hermione, swirling her tea.

"So he's probably wallowing in his room," she grumbles. "I'd tell you to go there, but seeing as he's my ex-boyfriend and I still want him, it's a conflict of interest."

Hermione gets to her feet. "Then I'll go somewhere else."

"And I don't want to know."

Hermione sends a thankful smile Lavender's way and turns toward the door.

"Lavender?"

"Yeah?"

"I misjudged you. I'm sorry."

Lavender contemplates her for a moment, then nods. "I misjudged you too."

It's enough closure for the pair to part peacefully — no admissions of friendship, but clarity on where they stand. And it's more than Hermione can hope for.

Lavender turns away to wipe a tear, and Hermione smiles again as she passes through the door and into the hall. The pit in her stomach has morphed into something else entirely — empathy, gratitude, and a small nugget of guilt.

As for right now, she only has one pressing matter on her to-do list.

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ronweasley #ron x hermione #Hermione Granger #hermionegranger #cormac mclaggen #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #hpromione #be11a_vegas

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darkhymns-fic · 3 years ago

Text

The Stars Pull Us Together

Having recently transferred to Luin Academy, Colette prepares to start on one of her first assignments - which she needs to use the school's own observatory for.

She didn't expect to literally run into Lloyd on the way.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: For Colloyd Week, Day 4: Stargazing! Because I need to write at least one modern au fic of them.

It was still early evening when Colette arrived at the observatory, the sun just teetering at the edge of the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink. There were only two of the dome structures, a bit smaller than she expected, just off to the side of the campus grounds and overlooking the undulating hills that made up the Asgard terrain. The autumn season made the air brisk, the wind slightly strong as it tugged at her hair. She had to hug her books close, hunch her shoulders just to withstand the sudden cold.

I just need to get inside, she told herself, feet crunching against the gravel. A hand reached out to the door handle of the first observatory, pulled on it and… found it stuck? Oh…

It took Colette a good minute to realize that this was the wrong observatory anyway, once she saw the construction sign to the left of her, half-hidden in the shadows. Slightly embarrassed, but at least relieved that no one was around to see her blunder, she then walked to the second observatory.

She sensed there was something different here, until she noticed the rows of potted plants that lined the steps and small ledge that circled around the building, from small ficuses to even a charming aloe vera. It was a pleasant spot of greenery over the stark whiteness of the observatory’s walls. There were no construction signs here – unless you counted the little greeting by the small steps (with a small cactus plant placed next to it) that said, ‘Welcome to the Luin observatory! Please watch your step!!!’ The letters looked to be handwritten, and Colette couldn’t help but draw her attention to it, marveling a bit at the multiple exclamation marks…

And by looking at it, she didn’t watch her step at all.

Colette flailed, and by doing so, she had let go of her books to fall to the ground. She was about to crash headfirst into the door until it suddenly opened inward, along with a shout of, “Whoa what-!?”

So she wasn’t the only one at the observatory tonight.

Papers falling around them like lost wings, a groan beneath her chin, and Colette was ready to faint from the shame of not only falling down, but bringing another person down with her… “Ah… I’m so sorry…” she voiced, blinking open her eyes to find herself inside the observatory now. It was mostly bare except for a few laptops on a nearby desk, a coffee maker to the side, and of course, the great telescope that was in the middle, its end pointing upwards to a currently shuttered roof.

Another groan. “S’okay… I kinda walked into that one anyway.”

The voice was familiar to her. Colette looked to see a guy half-seated, one hand planted against the floor. His plaid jacket caught her eyes on the rich redness of the fabric, reminding her suddenly of winter flurries that would freeze her cheeks, and summer storms that always came by so fast, and how he would try to shield her with a broken umbrella… “Wait, Lloyd?”

He blinked, looking so confused for a moment that she wondered if she was mistaken. But the tousle of brown hair on his head, going off in different directions, told her otherwise. “Hold on a sec… Colette! It’s you!”

“Y-yeah!” When he smiled, she was brought back to the boy with the scuffed sneakers, whose home she’d visit that was off the road, overrun by bramble on the way. “I haven’t seen you since we graduated.”

“Right, like that was what, three years ago?” Lloyd mused on that as he tried to shift upwards, and then couldn’t with Colette still half on him. “Um.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She giggled as she hurriedly got to her feet, trying very hard to not slip and fall again. She inwardly winced at her laugh, that nervous tic that she could never get rid of, even now. “Guess I’m still a klutz.”

“Don’t worry about it… It’s good, because I’m still catching you!” He laughed too, and the sound brought back even more memories out on the grass, with the sky stretching overhead that, for a brief moment, she was lost in it.

Lloyd looked older, now that she got a better look at him when she wasn’t at a tilt anymore. There was only the hint of a stubble at his chin, but his hair had grown out more, even as it made the same waves that she remembered back from childhood. He wore similar clothes from high school still, with his plaid jackets, his frayed jeans, and his work boots. It was so familiar, that she wondered if maybe they had never separated at all.

“…Colette, you alright?” Lloyd asked her, in a tone that felt comforting all at once. “You didn’t really hit your head, did you…?”

“Ah, no no, don’t worry! I’m still just… surprised to see you!” Her hands clasped each other as she looked up at him, noticing the few inches he had gained in height now. “Does this mean you go to Luin Academy too?”

“Oh, well… about that…” Lloyd’s gaze shifted to the side, and she thought she caught something pass in his expression – that is, until a flying piece of paper smacked him right in the face. “Ack!”

“Oh no, I forgot!”

After a hectic dash of Lloyd and Colette trying to grasp the sheets that had escaped her textbooks, some of them flying far back outside to the second observatory, eventually they’d gotten them all. Or, Colette hoped they did. But at the end, she was shivering and felt a little winded from chasing about various articles that her professor had given her all over the grounds.

“It’s seriously cold out. You don’t have a jacket with you?” Lloyd had latched shut the metal door, leaving them both in the observatory that was basically one mid-sized room with a giant telescope in the middle. Colette noted the metal staircase on the side, leading to the curved ceiling and any other mechanisms that she missed. There was even more of an assortment of plants here, some set nearer the ceiling while others were at the table she sat at. There was the soft hum of a laptop next to her, which she carefully placed her books near. Lloyd was already brewing up coffee, the scent quickly filling the air.

“I didn’t think I’d need it.” Colette shivered in her blouse. Though long-sleeved, the material was still light. She gratefully took the warm mug he handed to her, heating up her palms. “It gets even colder out here than back at home.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Lloyd took a seat next to her easily. “I can give you one of mine if you want.”

“I’m sure I still have the last one you gave me!” She laughed, making sure to swallow her sip of coffee before doing so. Not too hot, not too bitter. In fact, it had a sweetness to it – of vanilla creamer – and she was surprised he still remembered.

“That old thing?” Lloyd asked with such curiosity in his eyes that it made her smile even more. “It’s fine if you wanted to throw it away! Does it even still fit?”

“Yup! It fits me like a blanket still!” And it was true, that old spare jacket that Lloyd had once given her as a joke gift, but she had treasured it all the same. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wear it often when they went to school together, getting stares from other students, but neither caring at all.

She clutched the now half-full mug, looking at Lloyd with a bit of awe. He was holding his, its surface a bit more scratched, but fitting him oddly well. “You know, I thought you went to that other college?” he asked, scrunching his forehead as he tried to remember the name. “The…Spirit…something?”

“The Spiritua University,” Colette corrected kindly. “But, I was having trouble adjusting, so I transferred to Luin instead. Sorry, I think I forgot to tell you that in my last email.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Lloyd rushed a hand through his hair, grinning. “I kinda…forgot the password to that email anyway… Genis was supposed to make me another one but he’s been busy over at Palmacosta.”

“I haven’t talked to him much either.” It had been so many months without seeing her old friends – yet here was Lloyd before her, as if walking straight out of her memories.

Maybe she had been staring for too long – a nervous chuckle from Lloyd, the exact same tone that she remembered from years back. “It’s probably weird to just find me here, huh?”

Colette shook her head. “I don’t think that’s weird. I think it’s lucky that we’re able to find each other again.”

Lloyd visibly relaxed his shoulders. “Heh, you know, I think so too.”

She took her time studying him even more, from his more grown-out (but still messy) hair, to the way he sat on the plastic chair. The lights inside of the observatory were dim, just bright enough for reading, but not too much light pollution to make using the telescope difficult. It felt relaxing being in here, with him.

She remembered his words from earlier, then gently asked, “How come you are here though?”

It only took a moment longer before Lloyd explained himself. “Well… I did actually try to get into Luin. Did the application and everything. I think I wrote the longest essay of my life too. But… my grades really held me back anyway, I guess.”

Lloyd had still been undecided when she left for school back then. He would travel instead, he told her, or he’d take over Dirk’s specialty workshop. She’d never asked him if he’d wanted something else entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“You dork, you’re still apologizing for nothing after all this time?”

“I can’t help it!”

Another laugh, feeling as warm as the dim lights around them. “I don’t think I’m a good fit for it anyway.” Lloyd shrugged, but she saw the grin still on his face, boots tapping the floor in barely concealed excitement. “But you know? One of the teachers read my essay and contacted me! He…kinda kept talking about all the spelling mistakes and junk, until he told me about a side job I could do here. I wouldn’t have to be in classes but he said he’d teach me anyway.”

Even Colette was stunned at this random act of kindness from a stranger. “Really?

“Yeah! And, it definitely seemed a little weird that he just offered, but then I thought, why not? So that’s why I’m here!”

Curious on the story, and having her suspicions, she asked. “Who was the teacher that spoke to you?”

“Oh, it was…” Lloyd scrunched his forehead, but then his eyes lit up, remembering. “Kratos Aurion, I think. Maybe you know him? He really liked what I wrote.”

“He’s my astrophysics professor! I’m actually doing an assignment for his class.” Colette was slowly figuring out what he must have written. She gauged it from where they sat at, from the past nights they’d both lay on the grass of his backyard, matching patterns in the black as much as they could go. “You did always like the stars, didn’t you?”

The same smile she would sometimes think about before she slept beamed at her just then. “So do you. That’s why you’re here, right?”

She nodded, feeling more excited than before – or maybe it was just the caffeine in her system taking over. “And now you work at the Luin observatory. That’s great, Lloyd!”

“Yeah! But uh… I didn’t realize that you basically needed to know math to be an actual astronomer… So I just clean up things here and make sure stuff is working alright. It’s good enough!”

Colette giggled, looking around at the small room, neatly tidied up, just how much coffee he drank in here. “You even got some of your plants here too!”

“Hehe, well at least the ones that at least don’t need much sunlight. So no flowers or anything..”

So natural had they fallen into the rhythm of talking aimlessly like they used to, that Colette nearly forgot why she was here. It took the beeping of her phone alarm – to warn her of the small time window that she had – to jog her memory, as well as Lloyd’s.

“Oh shoot, sorry! You came here to use this thing, didn’t you?” Lloyd quickly got to his feet, downing the cup of coffee in one go, surprising Colette that he could do so while it was still fairly hot. “I may not be smart, but I’ve been learning how to operate these machines. It’s not too hard once you get the hang of it.”

“Ah, well, maybe then…” Colette went to grasp the papers, at the numbers she had written out hastily over the gridlines. “Professor Aurion gave me some coordinates to look up, can you use these?”

She suspected Lloyd wasn’t as bad at math as he claimed. Because when it came to something he really liked, he always did try his best. He looked at where she pointed, then gave her a thumbs up. “You got it.”

Luin’s observatory was a first for her, but she had used such things before. She gathered her notebook in her lap, looking over at the telescope that was bigger than most. It swiveled gently as she moved it to the right, checked over the viewing piece. It was well-maintained, which she had expected.

“Ready?” Lloyd called from the side, hands hovering near a panel.

“Ready!” she called back. Her hands turned the dial of the telescope, and then adjusted the contraption just a bit on its tripod so that it hit the exact angle for her. It was a tall piece of equipment, so she had to perch on a metal seat just underneath to view it properly.

Once the lights dimmed even lower, the ceiling of the dome shifted. She could see it rotate to the coordinates she had told Lloyd of. Another small shake, and then the middle shutter of the dome slowly panned open, revealing the now clear night sky, the blanket of stars up above.

Sometimes it was a gamble when the skies would be good for observing, especially during the cold seasons – but the cold season was also the best time to stargaze too. That was one thing that she remembered from back then.

And looking at the stars had always calmed her.

“Can you see through it okay?”

“Um, just a bit…” She tried to get more comfortable in her seat, but the metal of it was prodding her leg, and soon she knew she had edged out too far to nearly stumble off.

By then, she already felt hands on her shoulders, Lloyd quickly climbing up to join her in the observing seat. “Do you need me to be your seatbelt?”

Colette hoped her happiness didn’t show off too obviously, but his hands felt even stronger too now. “Hehe, maybe for a little while if you don’t mind it.”

She leaned back to the telescope and near the eyepiece, hands gently placed on the handles while she felt Lloyd nearby, keeping her steady.

The night was clear, and the coordinates Lloyd had set the observatory had been right. She didn’t have to get used to any haziness, or peer through a cloudy sky. The stars were so numerous, painted against greyscale, or an old film reel. But she found the cluster she had been looking for, and already set to write down her findings.

“Lloyd, you should see this too!”

“You sure? I’ve looked through it plenty of times this week.”

Colette shook her head, bringing Lloyd’s hands from her shoulders to the telescope. “I think you’ll like it.” She winked at him. “Besides, have you seen it from this spot?”

“Ya got me there.” And like an excited kid, which she had already suspected had never left him, he looked through it too, hands handling the telescope with care and precision. Colette craned her head to look past the instrument to the sky above. While specific nebulae and clusters were hidden from her, the stars to the naked eye were still spread out, like a trail through the dark.

“That’s awesome! That’s the Hercule something, right?”

“The Hercules cluster, yeah!”

It was and yet wasn’t like stargazing out in the fields, with just the crickets and the gentle breeze for ambience. A metal room instead of outdoors, (though the plants helped) and the sky partially blocked from the roof, but she still saw the same light in Lloyd’s eyes – always whenever he would look up at the starry skies.

“So, what did Kratos wanted you to do for this?”

She tilted her head. “You know, it was kind of strange but… he just said I should count the stars here.”

Lloyd turned to her in disbelief. “Huh? Wait… all of these stars? There’s too many! And just plain impossible!”

“He said that too! That an average human lifespan isn’t enough to count every single one…not to mention new ones appear while others fade away.” She tapped her pen against the paper, feeling a smile curve her lips. “But he said we should try anyway.”

“Man… this guy’s weird.”

“Hehe. But he’s very kind. Don’t you think?” Colette took Lloyd’s hand, held it like it was second-nature. “I told him about Iselia. I wonder if he figured out that we knew each other.”

“Huh.” Lloyd gripped her hand back, still half perched on the side of the observing seat, not at all mindful to the height. “He could’ve just asked one of us.”

Colette, feeling more confident then she had in years, scooted a bit from her seat and gestured for Lloyd to come near. “There’s room for both of us here! Maybe if we counted together, we could get it all.”

Lloyd barely hesitated, sitting next to her in only a somewhat tight fit. But she didn’t mind the feel of his jeans pressed against her leg, the scent of him comforting in its familiarity. “I bet I could count more! Though, can we even share the telescope between us?”

“Hmm…we can take turns!” And even as they did at first, giggling as both tried to take their stay at the eyepiece for longer, they eventually leaned back to watch the stars through the open shutter, clear from light pollution and misty clouds.

She had always liked the stars too, she thought, with Lloyd leaning against her shoulder, eyes bright as the night continued, way past the closing hours for the observatory. But now, she knew the exact reason why.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #colloydweek2021 #fanfiction #one shot

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hellreads · 5 years ago

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what are some of the most filthiest fics you've ever read?

this is the HARDEST ASK I have received so far, I spaced out after seeing this ask trying to recall every single filthy fic I ever read because there’s a lot but I will only be adding three fics per member for this ask, now, what I consider filthy may not be your cup of tea or may seem vanilla to y’all but to each their own, btw filthy to me includes threesomes to gangbangs because we’re weak for double penetration in this house, a lot of cum play and sloppy seconds, dirty talk, degradation, and more ~ by more I mean feelings, I need to feel something before drowning me in good explicit smut but I like pwps too lol, anyway, enough of my ramblings let’s get to the list! | 🍒

NOTE: please check all tags and warnings before reading a fic, read any of these at your own risk!

TOP PICKS

❥ The Hills by @minflix➴ Ski-Trip/Vacation!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok | Series➴ A ski trip with old friends sounds like a fun time, right?when your ex-boyfriend (who you hate but somehow always end up in bed with) and your stepbrother (who you are harboring not-so-secret feelings for) tag along at the last minute, you have a feeling it won’t be an uneventful weekend.but fun? debatable. that remains to be seen.

❥ Pour Up by jungxkook (deactivated/story no longer here on tumblr)➴ Fuckboy/Fratboy!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ You like to pretend you hate Jungkook and Taehyung but sleeping with both of them doesn’t sound so terrible especially when you’re drunk and faded.

❥ Extreme Obsession by saylilirose➴ Psychological/Yandere!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ In life, you meet one person that you live and grow old with.

You? You meet seven.

But your love? Non-existent.

But theirs? Real…and obsessive.

Which turns deadly and dangerous.

Without hesitation.➴ NOTE: this story contains heavy/dark/taboo themes and this isn’t for everyone, make sure you read all tags and warnings before starting this fic, you’ve been warned.

Kim Namjoon

❥ Miss Communication by @dovechim➴ Poly!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Poly relationships can be complicated. especially one where there’s an established hierarchy, and someone decides to break the rules. in a series of miscommunications between your boyfriends, you find yourself being the conveyor of peace and something else that isn’t quite what you expected.

❥ Tigerboy by @joonbird➴ Hybrid!AU | Namjoon x Reader | One-Shot➴ “You, a docile rabbit hybrid, have been waiting a long time to meet the mysterious tiger hybrid, Kim Namjoon.”

❥ Criminal by @teawithkpop➴ Criminal/Police!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Yoongi x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Namjoon is a wanted criminal, and he decides he wants you to be his ‘last meal’ before he’s booked.

Kim Seokjin

❥ The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin➴ Devil!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series➴ You never imagined accidentally attempting to sell your soul to the devil would lead to this…

❥ Off-Limits by @floralseokjin➴ Brother’s Bestfriend!AU | Seokjin x Reader | Series➴ You’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

❥ In The Bleak Midwinter by @pcyheartgirlx➴ Idol/Escort!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Chanyeol | Series➴ We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.

You own a multi-billion dollar company, servicing the biggest names in kpop, in more ways than one. Under the name “Starlight Catering”, you, your best friends, Damon and Maya, and your hundreds of workers provide stress relief for idols.

You have partially retired, not because you didn’t want to, but because Chanyeol was your muse. He was all that you had time for and all you needed. Until Jin came along.

So what happens when you mix fire and ice?

You get smoke and all the lines are blurred.

Min Yoongi (hardest list to make, I have a lot of good Yoongi filth T_T)

❥ Zelus by bumblexfox➴ Sugar Daddy/Lovers!AU | Yoongi x Reader | One-Shot➴ Yoongi becomes jealous when your close friend Jungkook puts his hands all over you right infront of his face. So, Yoongi decides to make sure you know who you really belong to.

❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Detective!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life.

Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency.

❥ Hyung, Open the Door by @gotmetalkinginmysleep➴ Idol!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Taehyung x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ You’ve been keeping the boys awake with your moaning for months thanks to Yoongi. Tae and Jungkook want to find out why.

Jung Hoseok

❥ Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la➴ Idol!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot➴ Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

❥ See Both Sides Like Chanel by @minflix➴ Rich Kids/FWB!AU | Namjoon x Reader x Hoseok | One-Shot➴ You, Namjoon, and Hoseok are inseparable. Three best friends that grew up together since you were all in diapers.

But lately, Namjoon has been drifting away…

So on his birthday, you and Hoseok remind him just how inseparable the three of you really are.

⤷ or alternatively: a little less twenty-one candles, a little more “touch me”

❥ Langour by @littlemisskookie➴ Step-Siblings!AU | Hoseok x Reader | One-Shot➴ Hoseok’s got a lust-driven thirst for his step sister.

Park Jimin

❥ Sharing is Caring by @littlemisskookie➴ Prostitution!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Jimin | One-Shot➴ Jin graciously decides to loan you to handsome Park Jimin for the night.

❥ Power Play by @dovechim➴ Pornstar!AU | Jimin x Reader | One-Shot➴ You know him as the A-lister of all porn stars; a man who sits pretty in his place at the top of the food chain. But you also know him as the Park Jimin who single-handedly humiliated you and ruined your own career as a rookie just starting out, the epitome of the biggest dick in the entire industry… and you’re not talking about his assets. But when Park Jimin comes to you, saying he’s in a slump that only you can get him out of and begs you to sign an exclusive contract with him; things get messy… in more ways than one.

❥ Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ Neighbors!AU | Jimin x Reader | Series➴ Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He, however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.

Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jungkook (because majority of my fave filth includes these two ~ I am breaking the 3 fics list for them because I can dsjkhfkjasdhf)

❥ Clandestine by @ditzymax➴ Assassin!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Jungkook | Series➴ As a professional assassin, Kim Kinsoo has many shrouded secrets in her life. Some of them she shares openly with her loving boyfriend, but there are other things he must never know.

❥ Shameless by @imaginethisbts➴ Voyeurism/Exhibitionism!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ Taehyung’s the new guy in town, just trying to make some friends. And when Jungkook invites him to a party, he thinks he’s finally gotten a good opportunity to meet some new people. But what he doesn’t expect is witnessing his new friend Jungkook and his girlfriend, you, getting it on in front of him, and all of the other guys, at this so-called party.

❥ When You Least Expect It by @johobi➴ F2L/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

❥ Stealing the Bite by @wildernessuntothemselves➴ Supernatural!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ In a world populated by the supernatural, witches were the most despised and mistrusted of creatures. Everyone desired to make use of their powers but no one was willing to be seen openly conferring with them. And so there came to pass a heinous practice: Small covens of witches were isolated and kept under wraps in every kingdom, to be utilized when needed, and kept under close watch to prevent them from rebelling.

Growing up in a kingdom ruled by werewolves, abuse and scorn were a fact of life, but you were determined to put an end to it. You devised a devious plan to gain power, and it involved a certain prince.

❥ The Doms Next Door by @tatertotthethot➴ Poly/Tattoo!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ In which you unknowingly accept the offer to become a tattoo model for the two, sexually-crazed men next door.

❥ Maid for You by @forgottenpasta➴ Idol!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | One-Shot➴ As Bangtan’s dorm maid you’re expected to be professional, your identity anonymous. Until Jeongguk finds you on your knees beside his bed, with his rolex in your hand.

❥ Into Temptation by coconutty➴ Demon!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ It was just a dare…

❥ Lust and Errors by @imaginethisbts➴ Step-Siblings!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Stepbrother, fuck buddy… They were one and the same now. But what started out as some mindless fucking game, quickly turns into something much more difficult and complex.

❥ What’s Mine is Mine by @avveh➴ Idol!AU | Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot ➴ You caught his eye from day one. As far as Jungkook was concerned, you were always meant to be his.

❥ This Isn’t Love Darling by @junqkook➴ Mafia/Escort!AU | Jungkook x Reader | One-Shot➴ He tasted of an empty night and an eclipsing moon, with blood on his hands and fire in his eyes when he put his mouth on yours.

❥ Illicit Photography by @jkeuphoriadreamland➴ University/Photography!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ You’re a well respected university professor who assigns a portfolio project to your photography students, but your best student, Jungkook, doesn’t follow the rules very well.

❥ My Way by @ellieljade➴ Fuckbuddy!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ Jungkook doesn’t appreciate your boyfriend’s insistence that he stop sleeping with you and he knows just how to prove that you like it his way.

OT7

❥ Moth to Flame by @bang-to-the-tan➴ Vampire!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry.

❥ Void by @btssavedmylifeblr➴ Space!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ You are the only female crew member on a 12-year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

❥ Temptation Series by @yminie➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ Sleeping Temptation : Yoongi and Jimin come home to find you asleep on the couch. To say they were happy they beat the other members back would be an understatement.

➴ Waking Temptation : Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon are home, and you’re not asleep anymore.

➴ Sweeter Temptation : After an eventful evening, it’s the morning after and Jin’s there to take care of you.

➴ Breaking Temptation : Jungkook ditches movie night for other activities, and you’re not impressed.

❥ Seven Deadly Sins by @mintedmango➴ Demon!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ You stood suddenly, chair being pushed away by the backs of your legs, the rest of the sins standing with you as you looked around in panic. All except Sloth who was out cold in the corner.“Oh, little pet, indeed, I am still hungry.”

❥ Physcom by @teawithkpop➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series➴ AU where live-in Physical Companions are provided to k-pop groups so the members can relieve their sexual related stress and tension - around their busy schedules, of course. You are one such “PhysCom”. However, complications arise when the BTS members start harboring romantic feelings for you. Feelings you’re not sure you can reject with any believable amount of conviction. Such a scandal could result in getting both you and them fired and exposed, ruining any future career options for all parties involved… it turns out the “com” in PhysCom might as well stand for complications.

❥ Cum by @honeymoonjin➴ Idol!AU | OT7 x Reader | Two-Shot➴ An episode of Run! BTS in which the seven members compete to see who can make you cum first.

❥ The Gentlemen’s Club by @brookelegend➴ Club!AU | OT7 x Reader (Hobi-Centric) | Series➴ You’ve been in a dating drought, more specifically, a sex drought. Your best friend has the perfect remedy for your problem: The Gentlemen’s Club.

#answered #tete-a-tete #anon #recs from hell #rfh:ot7 #rfh:knj #rfh:ksj #rfh:myg #rfh:jhs #rfh:pjm #rfh:kth #rfh:jjk #I have more mature/explicit/filthy fics just check my ficshelf for easy filtering #I was supposed to share my thoughts as to why I think these stories are filthy but decided not to because i don't wanna spoil the smut parts

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cadenreigns · 4 years ago

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My Monster(s)

(This was an AU short story I wrote for a reddit 1-day writing contest for the star vs subreddit a long while back and later decided to add a twist ending to. While I went back and edited it a little bit, it was still something I wrote in like 2 hours so don’t expect a masterpiece. And since it’s longer than I remembered so it’s after the break)

“And that should be everything,” Dr. Backintosh said as she ticked off a few notes on her clipboard. “We’ll call you to set up a follow-up appointment once the results come in, but based on what we’ve gathered so far, I don’t foresee anything keeping us from moving on to the next phase.”

Meteora shifted in her hospital gown before feeling Mariposa squeeze her hand. The two exchanged a hopeful look before she returned her attention to the doctor. “So, you don’t think there will be any problem because of…what I am?”

The doctor looked up and gave a reassuring smile. “Ms. Butterfly, while your body may be more unique than others, you still have all the same organs and working parts we’re used to dealing with. I won’t say it’s impossible something won’t come up, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Meteora let out a sigh she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “Good.”

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“I guess all that’s left is to figure out a donor,” Mariposa mused aloud as they exited the doctor’s office and made their way to her car. Meteora immediately knew that she already had an idea, otherwise she wouldn’t have brought it up. It was, after all, the part of this situation that made her the most uncomfortable. More about it probably should have made her uncomfortable, like the very basic fact that 19 was a bit young to be doing what she was. But unlike Mari, quintessential college student that she was, who had every opportunity still ahead of her, Meteora only had one major decision of her own to make. And she had decided to make it before her weird half-breed biology could mess something up about it. Everything else, like where she could live and what job she’d have, had already been decided by the government or negotiated by her parents. And while being the monster representative would be a cushy job, she wasn’t sure that’s what she would have chosen for herself.

“I’m not going to like what you’re going to say next, am I,” Meteora said, knowing the answer.

Mari put on her most innocent smile, the smile that had convinced Meteora to do so many things over the years. So many things that often ended with them in trouble. “Well, there is one obvious way that would let me be a real aunt.”

Meteora stopped in place. “Please don’t tell me you’re insinuating what I think you are.”

Mari continued to smile. “And wouldn’t you know it, today’s the day I’m supposed to go check in on him. But my evening class starts soon, hmmm.” She cupped her chin in her hand and started to tap her upper lip, something she often did when presenting an idea as just thought up instead of meticulously planned. “Maybe you could go check on him for me, see how he’s doing, have a chat about life, the universe, and medical procedures. You know, stuff like that.”

Meteora’s tail had started to swing tersely back and forth at some point, and she made no attempt to stop it. “You know I don’t like him, Mari.”

“But you’ve got no real reason not to. Besides, he’s basically just me as a guy.”

“Does it even matter to you that I don’t want to go?”

“Your future matters more.”

Meteora crossed her arms and huffed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But you should know that sometimes I really hate you.”

“Which,” she began as her smile spread mischievously, “is of course why you end up doing everything I put in your head.”

It took Meteora almost an hour to make her way to his ramshackle home at the edge of Echo Creek. Not because it was any significant distance away, if that was the case then he probably would have been outside the area her and her father’s kind were allowed to travel in, but because he had picked the most out-of-the-way spot imaginable to live. The roads that led there were little more than curvy dirt paths that were hell on her moped, each looking ready to collapse into one of the many riverbanks or ditches that lined the way, and took the most roundabout routes to get anywhere. Of course, this spot was chosen when “he” had been “them,” but he had stayed after everything…stayed for years, so she wasn’t going to give him any slack about it.

And then the trees parted and she was in the clearing, where the mountains were far enough away to be majestic instead of looming overhead. It was truly a beautiful sight…until you looked down and saw the home sitting in the center of the clearing, right at the end of the dirt road that had brought her there. Everyone called it his “house” to be polite, but it was little more than a gussied-up trailer as far as Meteora was concerned. The chicken coops off to one end while a messy garden and old minivan took up space on the other didn’t exactly improve the image it gave off. If you didn’t know he owned all the land around them you’d think it was a squatter’s camp.

The closer she got the more Meteora didn’t want to deal with this. And that feeling only grew stronger when she propped the moped on its kickstand and took her helmet off. She knew she could drive away now and just tell Mari that she had done it, that would satisfy the periodic visits she insisted on, but not the donor angle. That she couldn’t drive away from without getting an earful about later. So, after a long and drawn out sigh, Meteora stepped up to the front door and knocked.

At first there was no reply, so she knocked again. Second time was the charm evidently, as almost immediately she heard a call from inside, “I’m coming.”

A moment passed, with some rustling barely making its way through the door before she heard the lock slide in and the handle started to turn. “You know you don’t have to keep checking in on me, Mari. I can take care of myself…”

Marco Diaz trailed off when the door was fully open and he saw that it wasn’t Mari at his door, but her best friend. This man, who Meteora had known all her life and who was in surprising good shape considering that, by all accounts, he rarely actually left his so-called “house,” was the man who she despised more than anyone else in world. But Mari had made her promise not to let that come across as too obvious.

“Hey jerk-face.” Some promises were hard to keep.

“Meteora,” he replied, his brow raised in confusion.

She stepped past him and inside before he could get the chance collect his thoughts. “Mari’s got class tonight, so she sent me. You’re not doing anything stupid that would worry her, are you?”

Marco closed the door behind her and followed as she made her way down the length of the small home. Based on what Mari had told her about previous visits, she had expected more of a mess as she made her way through the small sitting area and kitchen, but the place was clean and tidy, almost sterile. The only thing even close to messy about it was a dish rag on the kitchen counter. She stopped when she came to the bedroom on the far side of the kitchen, it featured some un-fluffed pillows, not that Meteora ever bothered with that either.

“I don’t think so,” he finally replied. “You want a drink, or something?”

She shrugged. “Got any diet Pitt?”

“I see Mari’s taste for that junk finally wore off on you,” he said as he opened the fridge and reached inside. A second later he emerged with a pink can, though instead of handing it to her when she put out her hand he placed it on the kitchen table and then took a seat. “I’m surprised you bothered to come, even with Mari asking.”

“Yeah well, people don’t pick their families,” Meteora said, picking up the can without taking a seat of her own, then pulling the on the tab. It opened with the expected swoosh of bubbling liquid that was practically reassuring, even if it was generally the sign of something that wasn’t actually good for her. “I like it when she’s happy, she likes it when she knows you’re not dead because you live in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of chickens, so I guess I like knowing that too.”

Marco made what Meteora could only assume was an amused sound with his nose. “Even though you’d probably enjoy figuring out a way to set the chickens on me?”

It was Meteora’s turn to make an amused sound, which she followed by taking a huge gulp of her diet Pitt. “At this point I’m more likely to just not help when the chickens attack than actually sick them on you.”

“Well I appreciate you not hastening my demise yourself,” Marco answered back. “Anyway, I know you don’t like being here, so you can go and let Mari know that I’m in the same state I always am. Nothing to be worried or relieved about.”

“Right…” she said slowly, turning in place to survey the home again instead of looking at him. She couldn’t bring herself to really look at him and ask this question. It was bad enough she had to ask it at all, let alone of him. “Well there was one other thing I…Mari suggested I ask you…”

Meteora paused as her slow look around came back to the bedroom and something caught her eye that she hadn’t noticed before. A picture on the nightstand, one of a young woman taken over twelve years prior. Meteora had been around seven the last time she’d seen Star, and hadn’t really understood when she couldn’t anymore. No one had been able to explain it in a way she’d understood. Some had said she’d gotten sick, like so many had at the time, but everyone had cried, and then yelled. Marco had yelled most of all, and at practically everyone. And then, well then he stopped leaving this supposed “vacation home” they’d shared altogether. In fact, Meteora didn’t think anyone aside from Mariposa had seen him in person more than three of four times in the dozen years that had followed.

Trying to pull her attention back to the task at hand, she saw the home in a new light. The photo of Star was the only color in the whole place. Everything else was white or some shade of grey. And the place wasn’t just sterile, it was practically lifeless. That’s why Mari came here when no one else did, not because she was worried about him living so far out alone, but because she knew he wasn’t really living at all.

“Ask what?”

Meteora almost jumped when Marco prompted her to continue. And looking at him in that moment, with something besides the irrational anger that had plagued her thoughts of him all her life, she couldn’t bring herself to ask what she’d been sent here to. So she asked the question that had been asked of her so many times.

“Why…why do you think I’ve never liked you?”

Marco took a deep breath and looked out the window for a moment, as if considering something very carefully. But then the moment ended and she got her answer.

Meteora pushed her third can of diet Pitt to the side to sit with the others as she ran though everything Marco had told her. It all seemed crazy when he’d said it, even crazier as she thought about each part, but none of it seemed wrong either.

“Because of an old king I was raised by an abusive robot…and then ran a boarding school?”

“From what I understand, yeah.”

“And then I had to live in a car because you, while crossdressing, riled my…students into kicking me out.”

“It wasn’t my idea to cross-dress, but basically.”

“Which led me to remember that I was half monster…which led me to try and take over Mewni…”

“Which led to all the soul draining and eventually the combination of magics that turned you back into a baby,” Marco said nonchalantly before taking a sip from the water bottle he had eventually pulled out for himself. “And you just never liked me after that. I guess some emotions just get too ingrained to fade.”

“But,” Meteora started as she put the pieces together. “If you hadn’t gotten me kicked out, which let me remember what I was, which led to the magic battle…then I wouldn’t have my family, or Mari, or any part of the life I have now.”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

“So, I’ve been angry at you all my life, because you gave me my life.”

His mouth twisted a bit before replying with, “Well it’s not like I turned you back into a baby myself, but if that’s how you see it then just know that I don’t take it personally. In fact, it’s actually kind of nice having someone not like me for a different reason than the rest.”

Meteora’s chair squeaked across the linoleum floor as she pushed herself up. The empty cans shook as she walked around the table. And Marco just looked confused when she grabbed and pulled him up by the collar. He was still a few inches taller than her, so it was an awkward position once he was up, but no less awkward than when she wrapped both her arms around him in the next instant.

Silence permeated the next few moments. Shocked silence from Marco if she had to guess, while her own was confused. Part of her still felt the urge to knock his block off, but at the same time…well another part was seeing him in a whole new way.

“Thank you,” she finally said before pulling away from him.

“No problem?” he replied.

Now the silence between them was just awkward. Though that wasn’t surprising when Meteora remembered that the only physical contact the two had ever had before that hug had usually entailed her trying to hurt him in some way.

“I gotta get going. I’ll tell Mari you’re doing fine.”

“Sure, thanks,” he said slowly before glancing out the window. “It’s starting to get dark, be careful on the way back.”

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Meteora’s tail twitched back and forth as she sat on the couch flipping through channels. She hadn’t slept well the night before and was going to be alone all day thanks to Mari’s new class schedule. Angie and Raphael usually would have been there to bother her in their good-natured way, but they were out of town. Which left her alone with nothing to do on a day that had a storm approaching and nothing worth watching on tv. So, when the phone rang, she didn’t even care that it was probably a telemarketer, at least it gave her something to do.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Ms. Butterfly, it’s Dr. Backintosh. Is this a good time?”

Meteora sat up straighter, ready to receive the news they’d been waiting for. “Well I’m on my own today, so I guess-”

“Actually,” the doctor interrupted, “it’s probably better we talk about this on our own first.”

In the distance Meteora heard the first boom of thunder.

Meteora knocked on the door, though she could barely hear her knocks over the rain and thunder that plummeted from the sky above. She knocked again a few seconds later, barely any harder though. She didn’t have the energy for it. Finally, after she forced herself to knock a third time, the door opened.

“Meteora?” Marco practically bellowed.

She didn’t reply.

“Come on, get out of the rain,” he said before taking her by the arm and pulling her inside. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

She thought about it as she watched drops of water roll off her and start to puddle on his floor. Something had happened, though what actually mattered was what wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t say that though, just like she hadn’t said anything since hanging up the phone.

“I’ll get you a towel,” he said after a moment had passed without any reply. “I’ll be right back, okay.”

Meteora remained silent as he ran off towards the bedroom, continuing to watch the droplets join the puddle while listening to Marco frantically open and close drawers. A few seconds, maybe a minute, later he returned and the towel came down over her head. He hadn’t bothered to offer it to her, and wasn’t bothering to let her get around to actually drying herself either.

“I can’t believe you rode here in this weather,” he said while gently dabbing the towel across her face and long lilac hair. “And without even a jacket, you know it’ll be me Mariposa explodes at if you get sick.”

She still didn’t reply, just watched the droplets while he moved on to wiping off her arms.

“Ok, well whatever brought you here, you need to finish drying off first. And since I don’t think I can dry anymore myself without feeling like a creep, I’m going to push you into the bathroom. There’s some spare clothes in there, so will you please finish drying off and change?”

Meteora nodded meekly and let him lead her towards the back.

Sometime later Meteora found herself huddled at one end of his couch wearing an oversized ninja t-shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts that were loose even with the strings drawn all the way. Marco sat at the other end. They had been that way for a while, silent except for right when they’d sat down and he’d said to just ask and he’d do whatever she needed him to. She didn’t have any conscious plan to ask him for anything. She didn’t even have a conscious reason for being there, it had simply been where’d she decided to go. But suddenly, even surprising herself a bit, it started to come out.

“My life was planned out for me since Mewni became part of Earth,” she started. “Except for when I get to have a baby.”

“Ok…”

“So I was going to do it,” she continued. “Invitro and all that, because it’s my choice and it’s what I want.”

“Well I guess that’s ni–”

“But because I’m half-monster they say they can’t.” Her eyes started to well. “That something about the way I am makes it too dangerous. That the only way I could ever be a mother would be…the natural way.” The tears were rolling now. “But I’ve never felt…that way about anyone. So what am I supposed to do? I’m too much of a freak to get what I wanted and I just…I just–”

Marco stood without warning. He made his way towards the kitchen, where Meteora could hear the fridge and some drawers open and then close in succession. He returned with a six-pack of bottles and pile of old-timey VHS tapes.

“Look Meteora,” he said as he put the bottles down on the small coffee table and started shuffling through the tapes, “the last time anything bad happened to me I pushed everyone that cared about me away. And well, that’s probably not going to help you right now. So instead of trying to make you feel better, we’re going to play a little game that used to help me forget about stuff.”

He slipped one of the tapes into the VHS below the tv and hit play. The tv roared to life with an off-color title screen that loudly stated, “Fist of the Fist!”

“This,” Marco said as he sat back down and started divvying up the bottles between them, “is an early Mackie Hand movie, before he even learned English. The rules of the game are simple, take a sip anytime someone acts like they were hit but obviously weren’t, anytime the dubbing is obviously off, and anytime someone shouts an attack name.”

Meteora looked at the bottle he handed her, and then at him. “And this is supposed to help me?”

“It’s supposed to make you feel less bad,” he replied. “Actual help can start tomorrow.”

The title screen faded and a man sitting at a bar came into focus. Another man approached him and put a hand on the first’s shoulder. Their eyes met and an American voice yelled, “Time to die, Mackie Hand!” while the man’s actual mouth calmly said something completely different.

Meteora almost laughed, then joined Marco in taking her first sip.

#star vs the forces of evil #marco diaz #mariposa diaz #Meteora #star butterfly #star vs #svtfoe #my monster(s)#Cadenreigns #art #my art #artist #artist on tumblr #hekapoo

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daddychims · 5 years ago

Text

The Muse

Genre: Smut, PWP, Author AU

Pairings: Fuckboy!Tae X Author! Reader X Colleague! Jungkook

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You find yourself in a dead end , contemplating if you should just quit your job as an author in a big publishing company when your boss demands you to add more “Edge” to your writing. But your best friend is quick to give you a hand out of your misery, suggesting he could be your “Muse” for the night to help you in desperate times.

Word Count : 30K

Warning:

Smut, Dom!tae , Fuckboy!tae , implied DDLG , Cum play , Throat fucking, Gagging , a bit of Breath play, Choking Kink, Thigh riding, rough sex, Unprotected sex, Spanking, daddy kink, alcohol use, swearing, PWP, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Pure filth basically! Read at your own risk!

Author’s Note: If you think this fic is familiar is because I posted this a long time ago. While I was polishing my masterlist I accidentally deleted all chapters. I was devastated but I figured I’d just edit it and repost it as a one shot. If you’ve already read this and enjoyed it please reblog and like! If you havent, well enjoy 30K of pure filth, you’re welcome!

Inspired by It Aint My Fault by Zara Larson

You knock the black file on the table, the sight of it makes your stomach turn at the memories associated with it. You spare a glance at the guy flipping his purple hair away from his face, totally ignoring the masses of people behind the bar waiting to be served with their cash in hand.

“You alright Babe?” He asks in pure concern and you nod settling on the chair that is too high for your height.

“Can I have something strong, anything will do!” you breathe out with an exhausted tone and he quickly turns around and reaches for one of the higher shelves, pushing a couple of bottles to grab the hidden bottle before coming back to where you’re sitting

“Is it that asshole again?” he asks as he grabs a big piece of ice and starts shaving it skilfully into an Iceball before placing it in a glass and filling it with some of the magical drink.

“This is why you shouldn’t get married, Jimin.” You say as you take a sip and wince at the stinging burn rushing down your throat while the guy standing in front of you waits patiently for more elaboration on your bizarre statement “Because then when your marriage is fucked up your employees will have to pay for it”

He laughs as he quickly fills the top of your glass with the bottle in his hand “Maybe you should just fuck him and relieve some of the stress his wife gives him.” he suggests and receives a glare from you as your indulge yourself back on the hard liquor

“Fuck who? me?” The deep voice echoes in your ear and you sigh, already annoyed at the guy who’s done nothing but is settling beside you.

“Jung is giving her a hard time,” Jimin explains to his friends before placing the bottle in front of you two and making his way to the rushes of people his colleague can barely take care of at the other side of the bar.

“So you wanna fuck him?” Taehyung asks as he leans in over the bar and grabs a glass for himself, a couple of weird looks being thrown his way, he can’t care less about. He practically owns the place so if anyone has any right to lean in and use and abuse the bar all he wants, he would be the rightful owner.

“He’s already fucking me up in that meeting room every single day,” you scoff gulping down the rest of the glass and he quickly fills it up for you “And I let him and his assistants take turn fucking me like their little corporate whore, like the idiot I am.” you scoff bitterly, the rageful words leaving your lips one after another

“Damn … you really are a writer. You just described a really good gangbang. Are you into writing porn these days? ” He muses receiving a scolding hiss from you “Easy!” he spits back holding his hands defensively.

You place your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm as you mutter “He says my final draft doesn’t have enough edge to be published, He wants something that is enough for people to either drink or masturbate.” You roll your eyes as you repeat the man’s quote from your meeting earlier

“So he wants either a sex scene or a tragic death?” Taehyung clarifies as he shakes his head “Jesus, Seokjin Hyung wasn't joking when he said his marriage is fucking him up.”

“I fucking know,” you groan in agreement “He either really wants to bone his wife or he wants to kill her in her sleep,” you scoff “Either way I’m the one being mind fucked here.”

“Well …” Taehyung presses his back on the high chair as he calmly suggests “If he wants it so bad, just write one.”

You knock the glass on the table “As If I haven’t considered that Genius.” you snarl

“Well, I mean you’re a fucking writer. You’ve written more ridiculous things than a tragic death or two people banging. Can’t you just push one in?”

“The main character has already had a near-death experience she lived through, its gonna look super cringy if I push another tearjerker”

“Then make them fuck,” Taehyung shrugs “Can’t be that hard if your character is a modern-day thot.”

You gulp biting the corner of your lips at his statement “I don’t write erotica, Tae” you say through gritted teeth

“You’re making a big deal out of this. just think of the last time you got laid and put it into words-” he pauses midway through his sentence as the corner of his lips curves into a smirk “Ah Right!” he nods “I forgot it’s been too long since you put your genitals near any other human being.”

“Shut up!” you growl back at him like an angry wolf being nudged at the sensitive spot.

“This is why I tell you, you need to come out of your room instead of writing fanfictions all night long and just get fucking laid.” He nags like the mother in law you don’t have but have described multiple times in your pieces.

“I write for a living Mr Get fucking laid,” you reply with a sarcastic tone “I don’t live to fuck any living, breathing creature I can find like you.”

“Boring,” he snorts looking away as he eyes the group of hot girls in the not very far table that give him a look and all laugh together when he winks at them “We are mammals, we were designed to fuck and enjoy it.”

“The sole purpose is to reproduce and continue the human species. Which I think is the only last thing on your list when you bone a girl.” You mention turning on your seat to face him

"Well …” he nods in agreement “That’ll happen sometimes later, We’re still young, we can just fuck for the sake of pleasure and curve the system”

You sigh, realizing the argument you started with your best friend was as useless as the alcohol you tried to flood your system with. “Alright Casanova, why don’t you go and put your dick somewhere to curve the system and leave me alone?”

Taehyung’s eyes are fixed at the group of girls, his eyes squinting as if he is onto something. Considering how much of a fuckboy he is, you assume he is trying to imagine which position he can try with the poor girl who will be the prey of his one-night stand.

“Hey Nerdy,” his eyes glances back at you “I have an idea”

“Oh really?” you laugh asking in a mocking tone “So when did you develop the ability to think? That's quite a new one.”

“One day I’ll put your smart little mouth to some good use,” He uses the husky self-proclaimed “dom voice” he uses to seduce girls as he furrows his eyebrows.

“It’s a pass from me, I’m sure there are many others opting for that position,” you reply unfazed “Not sure if they’re as smart but you should settle you know!”

“Listen to me,” he ignores your statement completely, not very unexpectedly since the guy has a great selective listening for only hearing things that boost his ego “I have a bomb idea for your fanfictions.”

“I told you they are NOT fanfictions, Jesus!” you growl, your voice rising as the alcohol starts to get to your head and make you bolder and louder than your usual calm and collected office worker self.

“You write while looking at the images of rapper August Rush or whatever his name is, most of which are half naked selfie mirrors. Even five years old can tell your last novel’s male lead’s character was exactly based on him.” He says with an anger tinted voice as you watch him with tipsy and amazed eyes.

“Since when do you read, Tae? You’re surprising me too much tonight!” You ask batting your eyelids slowly at him “also it's August D you idiot, not August Rush.”

“Anyways …” He clears his throat as his face hardens “Since you don’t have intentions to get that pussy working in any other way than your vibrator, I have a better idea”

You bring your not very hopeful eyes to him, slight anticipation blooming in your heart “What?”

“Second-hand experience …” he suggests crossing his arms across his chest as if he is one great intellectual “You can watch me fuck and write it.”

You stare at him for a few seconds before bursting out and laughing, your eyes travelling to his messy silver hair as you ruffle the strands playfully “you need to change your dealer Tae, the new pills are messing with your head.”

“you already know I don’t do drugs anymore,” he hisses through gritted teeth “I’m not joking, since Jung wants erotica so bad, just write one for him.” He smirks, confidence radiating off his body and his cocky tone “I’m sure people would bust a nut over my sex scenes”

“You’ve lost your mind,” you shake your head as you turn around and reach for the bottle of whiskey in front of you “It must be pussy deprivation, please go and get laid. you're scaring me with your nonsense”

“No, No listen to me Y/N …” Taehyung grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him “You’re good at writing what you see, you remember that time you wrote that whole scene based off our summer camp in high school.”

“Tae, can you hear yourself?” You said in disbelief “You want me to watch you while you bone a random girl just so I can write a sex scene for my draft?”

“Exactly” He nods in an excited tone, “I think It’ll turn out a bomb ass sex scene.”

“You know what, I wanted to believe you’re still sober but this is dragging it. I’m leaving.” you stand up grabbing the black file in front of you as you pull your backpack on your shoulder only to be stopped by Taehyung’s firm hold around your wrist.

“If you think about …” He starts with a deep voice, deeper than usual as he mutters “Jung is looking for an excuse to push you to redundancy, I heard from Seokjin Hyung his company isn’t doing so well.”

You pause, biting your lips in rage as you knew deep inside what Taehyung was saying is not totally wrong. The company wasn’t doing so well for the past year, having published many unsuccessful books.

On top of that, his wife was on bad terms with him after he caused a scandal with one of the female interns. So he was finding excuses to redundant any female employees he could to kill two birds with one stone and redeem himself.

“I know …” you sigh looking back at the guy and slapping his hand away “But it still doesn’t make sense to intrude someone’s intimate moment just for the sake of my job.” you sigh ruffling your hair in frustration.

“I mean …” Taehyung pulls you to stand In front of him as he looks up at you “first of all that person is me,” he then smirks naughtily as he continues “And those intimate moments you’re talking about, we usually share them with a couple of other people down my balcony.”

“You disgusting bastard,” you wince, face scrunching with disgust at the guy’s explanation as you protest “I … I still can’t …”

“why?” He smirks as he stands up and leans closer “Are you scared you might wanna join?” he smirks as he messes your bangs "We can always negotiate a threesome if you want."

“Yeah sure, as if I haven’t seen you pee your pants before,” you roll your eyes “You’re the only human with a dick I wouldn’t wanna put my genital anywhere near.”

“That was in middle school okay?” he hisses, his face contouring in anger as he reminisces the memory that flashes through both of your minds “Also Don’t worry, you won’t be able to handle me anyways.”

He then releases your hand, quickly running his eyes around for a good target for the night as he mutters “come to my apartment, I’ll come home with the lady of the night,” he says as he manages to annoy you one last time by digging his hand in your hair and completely messing it before drifting away from you.

You sigh as you watch the guy walks through the masses of people before standing behind a girl who’s wearing a short dress, barely covering her nonexistent panties. He wraps his arms around the girl’s lower waist, dangerously close to her ass while whispering his dirty seductive words in her ear.

You turn around and wave for Jimin who flashes a warm smile and mouths “Take care,” with his usual bright energy as you make your way to the exit. The club is a frequent place for people like your age to get wasted at nights so you don’t have trouble catching an Uber to make your way home.

You fish for your earphones and place it in your ears, playing your favourite sad song, staring out the window as if you’re the main character of your favourite novel, weeping over a lost love.

You smile bitterly as you realize how lame your life is, everyone else around you either getting laid or getting their heart broken but you’re here, at the back seat of an Uber tearing up over the company that doesn’t appreciate your pieces because they’re not as “Edgy” as they want.

You flinch as the phone vibrates in your hand and you roll your eyes at the name on the screen “Yes?” you reply, tone dangerously low and raging

“Ooh cold …” the guy across the phone winces at your formality “The meeting must have had a toll on you.”

“Piss off, I’m too tired to deal with you Jeon,” you snap back, knowing the guy over the phone already knows the reason behind your rage “I’m hanging up!” you warn him but he’s quicker than you

“Hold up Hold up,” he replies and you can clearly hear his smirk through the phone “Don’t be a bitch Y/N.” He hesitates, the sound of lips smacking on his skin with the nasal moan of a girl you could clearly imagine based on his ideal type echoing in the device “Do you want a hand?”

“I think you need a hand, Jeon!” you scoff “I’m hanging up before your girl cums on her own.”

“No need to be jealous,” he laughs darkly as he shifts over the phone the sound of the girl’s lips rising even more and you bite your lips “You could be in her place if you want, you just have to ask nicely!” he suggests and you immediately scoff

“Thank you for the offer Jeon but I have a draft I need to submit tomorrow morning,” you reply through gritted teeth “9:00 am SHARP” you mimic the way Jung threatened you about your deadline earlier that day.

“You think you can pull it off on your own?” he asks and you can feel the teasing in his voice

“Isn’t it better for you if I don’t?” You ask with a sarcastic tone “You get off seeing me fail don’t you?”

“Mhm that’s your issue Y/N, you never believe me but …” he mutters in a lower voice “I’ll rather cum in your mouth ”

“You will,“ You bite your tongue “Probably in your next porn script, make it good, I’ll watch in my free time.” You say in a mocking tone

“Brats like you need to be taught a lesson instead of sitting behind a desk and write all day,” he says through gritted teeth and you smile at the taste of victory “call me if you change your mind, I have a good “edgy” scene sitting on my drafts, just like the ones Jung loves. I can prepare for tomorrow at 9 am SHARP!”

“Send it to him instead,” you reply sharply “It seems like his wife sucks just like your girlfriends!” you don’t hesitate to receive his response as you press the button on the cord extension of your earphone and press your head on the cold window.

Your eyes then perks open as you lean closer to the driver “Sorry, Can you take the next exit to left, I have to go somewhere else?”

The middle-aged man nods without any words and takes the next exit to your destination. You’re still contemplating your decision when the car pulls over in front of the apartment complex you frequently visit, you quickly press a few buttons and pay the driver with your phone, thanking him for putting up with your sudden change of mind.

You step out of the car and enter the complex , the old man who you barely know his name smiles at you and calls for you “Oh, you’re here again” You nod flashing a smile to him as you walk to where he’s sitting to show him your ID when he quickly says “You can go up, I know you’re with Young master.”

You mutter a quick thanks as you make your way to the elevator that leads you up to the penthouse at the very top of the building where Kim Taehyung lives.

He is the youngest son of the very well known Kim Group. You truly never knew what exactly his family were up to, but you knew that they “live comfortably” as Taehyung would love to describe.

But one thing you knew for sure, was that his definition of comfortable was owning an apartment complex in the heart of the city while yours was maintaining grocery budget to the end of the week after paying the bills.

He was a rebel, very much different from his older brother Seokjin who was also the heir of their family business. Since he barely had any hands in the family business, he used his privilege as a rich kid to party and hook up with girls, his ridiculously attractive face and body helping him in the whole process.

He bought the club a year ago, realizing his passion for partying might also be a venture to explore his business side. Which thanks to his prolonged history in being one of the “Gangnam Rich Kids” immediately received attention and customers from all over Seoul.

Your friendship with him, amazes you till this day, considering you were just a scholarship transfer to the private middle school he attended. You started off hating him since from the beginning he was the typical snobby, cocky rich boy who just wanted to dominate everyone around him including you. so you promised yourself to steer clear of him.

But your new school year resolution didn’t last long when the guy offered you to do his homework for a “couple of bucks” a week as he said. The money that was equal the total allowance you received from your parents for the whole year.

Your nerd ass decided God doesn’t knock the door with a stupid rich guy who can’t even do his homework, more than once. So you took the offer and became his personal homework slave for the rest of your school years.

Well, not much has changed since those years, Taehyung still trying to dominate, girls mostly these days considering he grew up to have a ridiculous amount of stamina.

And you … you hate to admit it but you’re still a slave for money, writing for Jung’s publishing company to pay your bills at the expense of your creativity. Because as Jung loves to remind you “Rainbow and unicorn” you love to write about doesn’t sell well.

Well except for one thing. you somehow managed to developed a surprisingly close friendship with Taehyung from school years into adulthood which made your decision to watch him while he hooks up with a girl sound even more absurd in your mind.

You sigh, stepping out of the lift as you make your way towards the door of his apartment, already imagining that cocky smirk on his face once he sees you.

Especially considering you already texted him right after you exited the club telling him you won’t be showing up at his place, not realizing a phone call from Jeon Fucking Jungkook would be enough to make you angry enough to change your mind.

You furrow your eyebrows as the door opens quickly after you press the bell button and a freshly showered girl, with the water glazing her skin and the bathrobe covering her body greets you.

“Hi hon, Come in!” she says with a smile as she opens the door and moves away so you can enter the apartment “We were waiting for you”

You stare at her with lost eyes when Taehyung’s voice echoes in the hallway.

“Y/N,” you turn around and your face heats up at the sight of Taehyung’s half-naked body, with the towel loosely hanging his lower body which had a fall hazard any second coming to your sight “I told you it’ll be a good idea, Come In,” he says pointing at his room before bringing his teasing gaze to the girl and she giggles in return.

The girl pats your shoulder and moves in excitement ahead of you, as your heavy footsteps take you to the last room in the hallways. You enter Taehyung’s master bedroom, quickly searching for his study desk which he probably does anything but studying on it, placing your backpack on the wooden surface

“A-Are you guys sure about this?” You ask, hesitation resonating in your tone, your eyes travelling between Taehyung who’s drinking from his can of beer and the girl who’s spraying herself with some expensive body mist.

“Yeah Hon,” The girl smiles as she drops herself on the abnormally huge king sized bed, batting her eyelids at you “So you’re gonna write your story based on us?”

“Yeah, I guess!” you reply with an awkward tone, the whole situation suddenly feeling too surreal. In a moment both of the people in the room will be naked, doing God knows what and you’ll have to watch.

“That’s so cool,” the girl says clapping her hands in excitement “Hon, Make me look pretty in your story okay?”

You stare at the girl, nodding your head in disbelief that the only concern the girl has about you watching him get dicked down is looking pretty. People are indeed strange, you wonder as you sit down on Taehyung’s comfortable wheely chair and open your tablet to set your tools up.

“Just so you know, you can both stop and tell me to leave the room at any point!” you firmly point out, eyeing both of them as if you were a referee explaining the rules of the game.

“I’m sure you’ll leave this room earlier than us, Hon.” the girl chirps in a jolly tone, laughing with Taehyung and you can’t help but grit your teeth at how much of a joke this situation is to both of them.

“I told you it won’t be a problem,” He says winking teasingly at you. He then walks to you placing his can of beer just beside your tablet “your muse is a bit of exhibitionist” he smirks as he turns around and attacks the girl on the bed like a hungry beast, devouring her mouth in a swift motion.

You’re still trying to set your instant sync function working on your word document, when the sound of their lips smacking together echoes in the silent room and your stomach drops as you peek at them through the corner of your eyes before immediately looking back at the screen in front of you.

Ironically the sound of their intense makeout session reminds you of the phone call you had earlier with Jungkook and you grit your teeth with determination, reminding yourself that the only reason you’re here is to not give Jeon Jungkook the satisfaction of your failure.

Your eyes slowly glaze on the pair in front of you, perfectly angled so that you get a pretty decent view of both of them, Taehyung covering the girl’s body with his huge built. Since they really don’t care, you might as well get the most of this experience and write a good erotic piece.

You place the tablet on your thighs, facing them with the turn of the chair, your fingers quickly dancing on the keyboard to describe the way your best friend digs his tongue in his one-night stand’s throat.

Do people actually like this? You wonder as you keep searching your brain for appropriate words other than the ones already popping up in your conscious while the other part of your brain scolds you to not judge your reader’s preferences.

You try to find enough decent words to describe the girl’s lips being bruised by Taehyung’s. Since she is sharing her most intimate moments with you, you might as well play along to her request and make this sound as pleasing as possible on her side.

They part their lips with a gasp from each other, you almost shout at the top of your lungs like a movie director to get back to work but then you remind yourself, you’re watching two people actually doing this for pleasure and they also need to breathe.

You quickly finish the description on each of their faces since their panting moments was probably the last few seconds it would look normal for the rest of the night as you hear their little conversation in the background.

“So,“ the sound of the girl’s lips rising even more and you bite your lips “safe word?” Taehyung asks in a deep voice, the girl giggling and squirming under him.

“Is it really necessary, Taehyung?” you flinch at how needy the girl’s voice sounds just after a quick make out, wondering what exactly is about your best friend that has girls losing their shit over him.

“Trust me, Once we get too deep in this, you might need it” he groans leaning closer and nibbling her ear and she moans

“Carousel,” she replies with a giggle and you furrow your eyebrows at her strange choice of safe word but again you gotta push through the night, reminding that the only person deserving to be judged is you for sitting in the middle of two adults having sex and try to use them for your creative purposes.

Taehyung pulls away and kneels on the bed, your eyes quickly travel to him to see what he’s up to. He grabs the hem of his towel, tearing it apart and immediately a small gasp find its way out of your lips at what his action uncovers, his dark orbs travelling to yours.

You assume the girl is as surprised as you about what’s standing proudly between Taehyung’s thighs because what echoes in the room while you gulp catching Taehyung’s eyes on yourself, is her breathy gasp.

“Mhmm …” he hums to the girl but his eyes are still on your dilated pupils “You like what you see?”

You get a grip on yourself quickly bringing your eyes to the screen, your fingers which stopped drumming on the keyboard quickly getting back to pace around as you hear a small groan from the guy.

You bring your trembling gaze back to the scene and realize his groan is only because his ginormous dick is being pampered by the girl with slow strokes and small kitten licks along the shaft.

"Foreplay", you quickly think before pressing enter and quickly typing the girl’s skilled actions, his dick now growing into more of a hard-on and starting to lay flat against the girl’s welcoming lips.

She parts her lips and devours him into her lips in a quick motion and you wet your lips as your eyes travel between her little show and Taehyung’s head which falls back with a loud husky moan falling off his lips.

“Fuck …” he groans as his hand quickly reaches for the strands of blonde hair, holding firmly onto her head as he thrust his hip forward “That feels good.” he compliments with a groan of pleasure and the girl starts to bob her head.

You quickly write his words just like the way they leave his lips, wishing you could record his voice and use them later, OF COURSE FOR WRITING PURPOSES, you remind yourself while the muscles of your inner thigh clench painfully closer together reminding you that you also are a human with needs.

Maybe this is why people loved sex scenes in a book, sex in writing although was portrayed through the dry black and white fonts plastered on a piece of paper, it gave them enough freedom to manipulate and grow it in their own horizons of imagination when they were in need, just like you were now.

You lick your lips in anticipation as you try to describe the way your friend fucks the girl’s mouth in the most pleasing way, tinted by slight hazy bits and bobs so you give your readers the perfect amount of imagination to grow.

Your breath cages in your lung when Taehyung snaps his hip forward against the girl’s lips, keeping it firmly against her throat as the slight sound of her gagging echoes in the room and your heart beats in concern. You quickly look for the girl’s expression in worry before her eyes curves into a tiny smile as they sew themselves to Taehyung

"You like that slut?” He asks biting his lips as a smirk plasters on his face watching her faint smile “You like it when I gag you on my big fat cock huh?” He pulls away, moving the girl’s head away from his hip just reaching his tip before snapping his dick back into her mouth, this time tears with a mixture of the girl’s mascara running down her cheek

“You messy little slut, you like it when Daddy fucks your throat huh?”

You quickly try to write the words down on the screen before bringing your gaze back to the girl, for some reason expecting her to look unhappy with her gag reflex constantly being stimulated

But instead the scene you witness has another muffled gasp leaving your lips, the girl nodding persistently as one of her hands are dipped between her legs indicating she’s touching herself.

“You dirty little slut,” Taehyung groans as he keeps her there for a few more seconds, watching her touch herself “You wanna cum while sucking Daddy’s cock?”

The girl nods again, more tears leaving her eyes as she continues to move her fingers on her clit In speedy circular motions.

“I wanna see you try dirty slut,” Taehyung smirks and your breath hitches as his eyes momentarily glances over you as he mutters “Try and cum slut … cum while Daddy fucks your nice tight throat, ruining your mouth and your makeup.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he orders the filthy words, looking directly into your eyes. Your brain screams at you to write his dirty talk down, since you would never, in thousand years come up with such filthy words on your own.

But your widened eyes are fixed on his until he spares you and looks down at the girl as he starts fucking the girl’s throat, who’s rubbing her clit in an insane speed searching for her release.

But her hopes shatter, as much as yours when Taehyung’s hip stutters and he bursts with a couple more thrusts, his head falling back and his loud moans echoing in the room as he cums in the girl’s mouth.

The girl swallows every drop attentively like she’s been dehydrated in Sahara desert for a few days and the only way for her to survive is to swallow Taehyung’s cum.

You make a mental note, not to describe the scene in the way you just thought of as probably not many people will find your strange example sexy and arousing but rather hilarious. Taehyung’s head snaps back up and the first thing he does has you struggle with your breathing pattern again.

He glances over at you again, biting his lips with his orgasmic and fucked out face as you rub your thighs together unconsciously. You avoid eye contact, quickly bringing your attention back to the screen to make sure you haven’t actually written how suddenly thirsty you are for your best friend by accident.

“Naughty little slut,” You hear his dark voice but continue to finish your sentence when the sound of his hand coming into a slap on the girl’s body has you jolting up on your seat and your attention is quickly back on him “No touching now.”

You watch as he grabs the girl by her hair, pulling her up on her knees to face him, the girl’s lips parting to pant for air as the droplets of cum are dripping on the corner of her lips.

“Daddy, Please …” she begs to stare at him with seductive eyes but Taehyung is not having any of it.

“I said you can only cum before I cum,” He says as he grabs both her wrist and pins them in one of his own big hands above her head before bringing his other palm into another sharp smack against her ass cheek “You know dirty girls get punished. You wanna be punished, little whore?”

“Yes,” the girl nods “Punish me, Daddy,” she licks her lips in anticipation “Punish me like the little slut I am.”

You furrow your eyebrows at girl’s request , quickly typing the words leaving her lips with the description of how fucked out and needy she looks like with her hand above her head, her towel lying on the bed away from where It should be on her body with some juicy description about the red marks of Taehyung’s hand on her bottom.

“Yeah?” his eyes perks at the girl’s words “You want Daddy to teach you a lesson?”

“Yessss -Aaahhh …” she gasps as another smack comes into contact with the flesh of her ass and you have to bite your lips harshly to stop the breathy sound leaving your lips.

He is ruthless with his “punishment”, you start to judge his scene as your eyes dance on the harsh red flesh of the girl’s bottom. But she looks somehow content and aroused as if she wants even more of the harsh treatment more.

“Is this why you’ve been a bad girl?” Taehyung asks in a husky tone and the girl moans in response nodding her head

“Yes, Daddy … I’ve been bad … I’ve been really really bad …” she purrs in response, igniting a fire in Taehyung’s eyes as his hand comes into another whiplash against her bottom.

You flinch as a drop of arousal slowly trickles between your legs, your fingers immediately stopping their actions on the keyboard as you watch Taehyung “punish” the girl as she asks for, while the girl’s loud, wanton moans ring in your ear.

You were never the type to be aroused to such type of scenes, your taste rather being “vanilla” as Taehyung would love to usually tease you about. You weren’t particularly pressed about your taste, preferring your sex rather sensual and romantic than wild and kinky. Even the porn you’re watched reflected your taste, with your most recent search including things like “romantic couple” and “porn with a romantic plot”.

You believed your life had too much of angst in the office you had to spend your day at, typing words after words describing a fantasy that had people clench their fists in anger or blink their tears away while reading that you preferred to keep it all chill and relaxing back at home.

But yet again, you’re here, watching your best friend executing his kinky actions on his one night stand and you can’t totally deny that your body is somehow enjoying the scene.

shifting up on the seat, you press your thighs together, the ticklish arousal between your legs distracting you too much from your writing but you immediately regret your decision when Taehyung brings his lust hooded eyes to you as the chair under your screeches due to your weight shift.

You gulp like a kid being caught shattering the fish tank in the living room, the unreadable expression on Taehyung’s face not helping your nerves either.

You’re still contemplating if your best friend can sense the damp spot on your panties that you are desperately trying to ignore when his next action has you drip even more from your core. He keeps his eyes fixed on you while he strokes the red flesh of the girl’s ass cheek, reaching for her clit with the other hand and pinching her bundle of nerves.

“Aaaahhh …” she whines, shuddering at the harsh touch

“You’re so fucking dripping for Daddy” he gasps as he touches her arousal and makes a mess of her cleanly shaved pussy with the juices he acquires from her “All wet and ready for Daddy’s cock huh?”

You stare into his eyes, your eyes glancing back and forth between his face and his hand on the girl’s private part, blush to creep into your cheeks as the juices smearing all around her inner thigh somehow resembles the mess between your own legs. You let out a gasp of relief as Taehyung finally tears his gaze from you and looks back at the girl

“I’m sure if you sit on Daddy’s cock, you’d just slide right down” he suggests as he fastens his finger on the girl’s core

“Yessss Daddy … I’d take you well … I’d take all of your cock…” she promises with a needy tone and Taehyung nods before shifting back from her, the girl whining as his hand leaves her core.

You quickly finish the girl’s part, your goal at this point being to just write down their dirty conversations and memorise the rest of the session in your mind to elaborate on later. You didn’t wanna admit but your own pussy was already too aroused for you to think straight and write a decent scene with enough details.

Taehyung sits down at the head of his bed, his back resting on the bedpost while his long muscular legs part to unravel his proudly standing cock even more. He strokes his shaft which you can swear has grown larger since he first took the towel off while looking at the girl standing right in your line of sight.

“Come ride Daddy then” he orders staring at the girl with unimpressed eyes

The girl moans in excitement quickly shifting closer to his lap, straddling his big thick thighs while holding onto his shoulder. You bit your lips realizing the girl’s back is now facing you and a sigh of disappointment leaves your lips knowing you would have to improvise the girl side of the scene on your own.

You secretly hate Taehyung for choosing that position instead of choosing a more conventional one like missionary or doggy so that you get a better view of both of them. But then again you realize you’re writing a sex scene, which you’ve never done and could have never pulled off without his help so you better stop being an ungrateful bitch and take advantage of the situation.

You glance up from the screen as you hear a wanton sound leaving the girl’s lips, watching in anticipation of the event as she slides down on Taehyung’s cock painfully slow. You take a moment and just blink your eyes at how his thick girth parts her pussy lips apart, admiring her for her flexibility down in her kitty.

Before you know, you find your mind drifting as you imagine how would it be if that was your pussy and imagine your tight walls that haven’t experienced much would probably rip apart with the first few inches at the tip, considering he’s the thickest up there.

You quickly shake the thought off and your fingers fasten their pace on the keyboard as if the keys under your fingertip are being punished for your dirty mind.

“Fuck” you hear the girl sighs in a weak tone and you look up “Daddy … It’s so big …” you gulp and silently agree with the girl as you quickly write what she says along with a couple of sentences explaining the reason behind her statement being your best friend’s abnormally huge dick.

You furrow your eyebrows when you patiently wait for Taehyung’s response but nothing comes out and you find yourself looking up at him with almost annoyed eyes. Your eyes tremble as you see his eyes fixed on you, a cocky smirk plastered on the corner of his lips as you raise an eyebrow as if you wanna convey to him your frustration over his silence.

“Mhmm …” he hums , his gaze still fixed on you “I thought you said you can take me” he growls with an arrogant tone “Come on” the girl shrieks as a sharp slap comes in contact with her ass “Take it like the good slut you are” he says all the dirty words looking past the girl’s body which was directly in your line of sight, into your eyes.

“Fuck Daddy …” the girl digs her nails on his shoulder as she pushes herself lower “AAAHH … I can’t”

“You can’t, can you?” He asks with a teasing tone as he grabs her ass and holds her right there, filled to the brim as the girl whines "Its okay, you’re not the first one that failed to take me.“

You roll your eyes at Taehyung’s proud statement, hating that the girl’s inability to take him to boost his ego immediately. This is why he is the cocky bastard he is, you think as your quickly type his remark at how proud he is about his size.

"Cheeky whore” he slaps her ass again receiving a soft whimper from the girl “Thinking you can take Daddy just because you fucked some dick” he scolds and you tilt your head in confusion as you hear his tone changing to more of a dark and angry one “Move” he orders as his fingers dig into her ass flesh and moves her on his dick “Ride Daddy like a good girl”

The girl quickly complies and the room soon fills with the sound of her loud cries of pleasure, the sound of skin slapping with the mixture of the girl’s wanton cries being your background music as you continue to describe the intercourse with your limited knowledge of what you’re watching.

“Aaahh … Daddy … your cock feels so good …” The girl whines fastening her pace, riding Taehyun’s cock as if she’s riding some kind of racehorse “I wanna cum all over your cock, Daddy, I wanna cum …”

“Yeah? You wanna cum little slut?” He asks as his hands reach for her throat and grasp her windpipe tightly “Then beg like the little whore you are, beg for Daddy”

“Please … ” the girl pants as little air reaches her lungs but her moans only intensify in sound “Please let me cum Daddy”

“You think you deserve it? You think you deserve to cum on Daddy’s cock?” Taehyung asks as you watch his other arm moving down between the girl’s leg which is not totally clear to your eyes. The girl’s head falls back and you realize where his hands are working, her sensitive clit, you assume, pushing the girl closer to the edge.

“Yessss … Yes, Daddy … let me cum … I wanna cum while you fill me up” the girl voices out the words in a rushed tone, tears tinted by her mascara flowing down her eyes again

“You want Daddy’s cum in your tight cunt huh?” Taehyung smirks, his eyes suddenly dancing on you while he says “You want Daddy to fill your messy cunt with his cum huh??”

You gulp, feeling your own walls clench around nothing, your carnal desires and possibly your deprived vagina screaming at you for the same attention the girl is receiving between her legs like a jealous ex-girlfriend. You dig your teeth into your bottom lips, tasting the blood having you hope that the pain might help distract you from your whiny pussy down there.

“Yes Daddy …” the girl finally musters up a sound “Fill me up with your cum”

Taehyung thrusts his hip up, helping the girl to reach attain her wish as he’s nearing his own release while his hand continuously works on her clit. Your finger has completely stopped working, the only thing you can do is watch the mess between their legs as they both work towards their big moment.

“Fuck …” Taehyung’s lustful groan echoes in your ear and you look up “I’m gonna cum …” he says his eyes glancing over your before closing for a few seconds as he stills the girl’s hip and ruts himself into her ruined cunt.

He grits his teeth, his eyes still fixed on you when he suddenly frowns and a deep groan leaves his lips as his head falls back but his hip still works hard deep inside the girl’s walls.

“Aaaahh … Daddy …” The girl shudders, her body shaking violently on him and you can safely assume she’s experiencing some great moments of pleasure by the way her mounds bounce in the air with every shake of her body.

Taehyung’s hip stutters and you know he’s reached his climax when the transparent droplets of his cum come rushing down where his cock is thrusting deep inside the girl’s pussy.

Their sloppy moans and groans are your last few sentences, describing the magical moment of sparkling stars and breathtaking orgasm your readers probably love to read.

You’re slightly bummed out you have to sit there watching your best friend have a blast while you just get to watch and write it in the best possible way for other people, your poor muscles clenching around nothing but air. Become an author they said, its very fun they said.

“Ughh …” Taehyung’s deep groan has you looking up at the guy who’s now coming down from his high, blinking your eyes nervously as you make eye contact with each other and his eyebrows furrow closer into a deep frown.

You quickly press the save button on the top of the screen, knowing better not to trust the sync function as you quickly stand up and grab your bag “I’m gonna leave you guys alone now” you quickly whisper , trying your best not to ruin the intimate moment they probably would have preferred you not to disturb “Thanks Guys , I’ll buy you dinner some time” you quickly suggest as you make your way to the door and rush out of his apartment.

You sigh in relief as your Uber finally arrives in front of the apartment complex and you settle in the car. It’s only then that you realise so much tension and stress in leaving Taehyung’s apartment had you forget the wet spot in your panties that are sticking right to your slit.

You sigh as you make a promise to your neglected kitty that you’ll treat her to a nice, exciting high induced by the new rabbit vibrator you ordered last week from Amazon on sale once it arrives.

You open your tablet and glance over the quick messy document you wrote in an hour, already starting to see how you can elaborate or change details so its appealing enough to Jung’s taste.

You nervously click your heels on the floor as you pull your phone out of your pocket, glancing over the secretary who is doing her paperwork before pressing your iMessage app and press on the first name.

You furrow your eyebrows noticing the seen icon with time indicating two hours earlier flashing underneath the message you sent to Taehyung earlier in the morning.

After working on the draft you pulled off at Tae’s house, you ended up spending the rest of the night polishing and using your short term memory to recall the parts you missed as it was happening.

Once you were happy with the draft it was already 5 in the morning, meaning you could have exactly two hours of sleep before getting to the meeting you had with Jung. Which also meant you would have to use makeup and heaps of concealer to give the world the illusion you have had a good night sleep.

“Y/N … You can go in” the secretary who knew you very well notifies you and you quickly push your phone back into your pocket and enter Jung’s room.

He is sitting behind his desk as always, glancing over his iMac screen with his attentive eyes. You can’t lie, you sometimes find yourself intimidated by his gaze since his job is being a critic, imagining he judges everything about you even and it’s not just your writing.

“Sit down,” he says and you take a seat on the couch across his desk, glancing nervously at the glass plate reading “CEO Jung Hoseok” which runs a shiver down your spine.

You are nervous, considering the meeting you are in, could determine if you should go home and buy the new Gucci handbag you wanted to buy for a month or you should start looking for a new job; Your desperate wish being that the first possibility is the one winning.

You gulp as he finally departs his gaze from the screen and he walks around his desk to the single sofa set at the tail of the two couches

“Sorry I had you waiting, I was still looking at the draft you sent me this morning”

You nod flashing a fake smile “That’s alright Sir” you reply softly, hoping your manners would be any help on his decision

“You know why I like you Y/N?” He asks and it takes you a few seconds to really digest his words. Jung? Likes me? The fuck is he on about!

“I’m not sure Sir” you reply deciding the stupid silence is not gonna help you get anywhere.

“Its because I can see the determination in you …” he says as his eyes settle at your lost expression “I’ve seen many writers come and go in my company, but none of them has what you have. You know why you write, and you’re not afraid to push your limits.”

You stare at the guy with confused eyes, in all of the worst-case scenarios you tried to come up in your creative mind, none ended up as you being praised by Jung Hoseok, the single most difficult writing critic of this company who almost never had anything good to say.

Oh, the realization hit you, your face falls as you realize what the guy is doing. He wants to parts ways in good terms so he’s trying to fool you with nice words.

“Thanks, Sir … but you don’t really have to do this. I already cleaned up my desk, I can hand in my resignation by tomorrow” you say, your voice trembling despite having rehearsed the words a couple of hundred times already

“Wait what …” Jung looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, his expression hardening “Where are you going? Did you get any offers?” He raises an eyebrow suspiciously

“Well no … but I’ll be onto it as soon as you issue my resignation … “ you sigh finding the guy caring for you slightly hypocritical since he was practically firing you “Anyways, it’s not something that concerns you …”

“Y/N” he calls with his stern tone “What the fuck are you talking about?” He raises his voice, using the f word he almost never uses even in his most furious moments “You still have a contract with us and I’m not accepting any resignation until I know the reason”

“Sir …” you sigh as your blood boils at his statement “I know you wanna redundant me, So I’ll just play along and hand in my resignation. I think I at least deserve the redundancy claim, don’t I? How am I supposed to survive until I find another job …” you pant as the lump in your throat doesn’t allow you to finish your sentence without your voice trembling

“Wait a second …” he shakes his head in confusion “Who said I’m gonna redundant you?”

You stare at him with dazed eyes, tears pooling in your eyes as you whisper “You’re not?”

“God …” he whispers as he watches the tears run down your cheek and quickly reaches for the tissues on the coffee table In front of you “I mean I knew you have a creative mind but Christ, your imagination went wild didn’t it?”

You grab a couple of tissues in a rushed manner and wipe your tears as you hear him explain

“I was about to tell you, send the draft to the editing team and get it edited before we send it to the printing department.”

You bring your teary eyes to him, the lack of sleep and the tears not allowing you to see him clearly ”W-What …”

“What I told you yesterday was a way for me to test you “ He explains as he quickly stands up and walks to the mini fridge across his office to grab a bottle of water “I want you to step out of your usual writing style and experiment a bit. Your pieces are already doing fine but since you’ve come so far, why not try the mainstream writing a bit!”

He opens the bottle and places it in front of you “When I read your draft this morning I felt happy about my job after so many years. This is why I do what I do, I need to critique your work so you can push further out of your comfort zone and try new things” he hesitates as you grab the water and gulp it down to calm your nerves as he continues “And as far as I’m concerned you did beyond my expectation”

You choke on the water in your throat at his words before looking at him in disbelief “Sir …”

“Yes?” He replies firmly

“Is this a dream?” You ask with a disappointed tone and he smiles shaking his head watching your burst into tears again

“ go home and sleep for a bit first, you look awful.” he says and you wince at his unkind words “Then send your draft and prepare for a meeting with the printing team”

You nod your head, still In daze as the guy explains what you need to do next before patting your shoulder

“Now quickly leave my office before someone comes in and thinks I made you cry. I have enough rumours roaming around. ” He laughs standing up and walking back to his desk

You quickly mimic what he did and jump to your feet bowing deeply for him “Thank you, sir, I’ll work harder.” you say in a determined tone

“Alright, Go get some rest.” he nods and you quickly turn on your heels and march your way out of his office.

Your heart is beating fast as the whole news is suddenly settling in your body. You’ve finally received the green light on publishing the book you worked on over the past 6 months and not only that, you were finally acknowledged by the grumpy and harsh critic, Jung Hoseok.

You quickly reach for your phone in your pocket, your eyes scanning over the screen you forgot to press out of, the seen icon under your message still flashing to your eyes like it was before the meeting with Jung.

But you’re too excited to care as you quickly press on Tae’s name and press the green button and press the device on your ear. You sigh as he doesn’t answer you, expecting it as Taehyung almost never replies your calls on time, either he is too drunk, too sleepy or too busy hooking up to do so.

“Y/N …” You turn around and see Jungkook walk towards you with his smug smirk plastered on his devilishly handsome face as soon as you get off the lift on the first floor “heard the news … must be a party In your pants huh?”

He stops right in front of you and you swear you would have punched that smirk off his face if you were gonna resign from this company anytime soon. But for now, you’re too happy and content with your job to let him win over your nerves

“Well, it can’t be that its always in yours can it? That’d be too ...” you scoff as you smile victoriously “sexist!” Jungkook’s dark eyes settle on you in amusement, his silence creeping a tension between the two of you that you soon brush off "Now excuse me, I need to go home and prepare for my meeting with the printing team" you wink at him mischievously before turning on your heels

“That scene, it’s not yours, is it?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ear and you turn around

“What are you talking about?” you raise an eyebrow

“You’re telling me you pulled off your first sex scene, mind you a good one, in one night while you’re spending all your life in that office doing anything …” he hesitates before a mocking smirks fly through his lips “but get laid”

“Why? Does it hurt your ego?” You ask tilting your head to the side “Don’t worry, this is gonna be my last sex scene for life. The porn scripts are all yours. You know I don’t usually do dirty work.” you say in a sarcastic tone

“That’s not any of my concern …” he says , his expression hardening while his smirk is still persistently adorning his lips “Jung sent the draft to me to have a look before he gives you the green light,” You grit your teeth knowing, in the end, you needed his acknowledgement even when clearly Jung liked you work “what you wrote, mind you if it’s yours, cannot be from watching porn or a reference text.”

You gulp, nervously reminding yourself that what Jungkook is saying is totally right but he still necessary doesn’t have to know your strange, unconventional ways of writing a crazy sex scene.

“I take it as a compliment Jeon,” you flash a sweet smile “If you wanted some of my reference texts, hit me up. I’m more than happy to share. We’re colleagues after all.” you bluff, knowing very well you wouldn’t be able to actually share Taehyung’s intimate moment with anyone but you also know that Jungkook is too much of a proud head to actually ask for it

“I’d rather be your reference next time … ” he chirps as his smirk deepens “Specially now that I know I’m exactly the type you like your references to be” he hesitates before your face that turns pink in shade as he looks around to make sure no one is around “Rough and Kinky.” It is his turn now to wink your way before he walks past you to the lift that leads him upstairs.

Your hand falls on your side as you sigh, It wasn’t the first time Jungkook acted this way. You always shrugged it off thinking he just has some kind of insane fantasy of boning someone in the office and probably the nearest target would be you considering you both live half of your life in there, writing your way through the day and night.

But his last couple of words rings in your mind, catching you off guard as you start to wonder if what he said is right. Obviously, the piece you’ve written was not based on your personal experience, But you couldn’t deny the persisting tingle between your legs since the night before. You quickly shake your head, putting it on the sexual frustration you’ve been delaying to address for a month now as you make your way outside the office.

You place your bag on the bar table, the specific high seat you always occupy that catches Jimin’s attention as always. He smiles at you over the till as he politely serves the young girl who’s handing him the dollars for her drinks.

He quickly passes the changes with a customer service smile that makes his eyes almost disappear as he makes his way to you.

“Hey Babe …” he chirps as he grabs a tequila shot adorned by sugar and a piece of lemon as he fills it with an opened bottle he already has idly rested against him “Good to see you finally in good mood.”

“First of all, I had some proper sleep in a while …” you say as you lean in to show him your nonexistent dark circles “I didn’t even use the Tarte concealers after months, can you believe that Park Jimin?”

“You look great babe. Is it your ovulation?” He teases wiggling his eyebrows playfully

“No I’m not ready to get pregnant, ” you roll your eyes before licking your lips in excitement “But I’m ready to publish my next book”

“SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!” he screams at the top of his lungs, a couple of people around throwing their confused and questioning looks at you as you rush him to be quiet

“Hey Hey … We’re in a public place Park Jimin. Keep your loud ass for someone else,” you scold him with a smile that unconsciously finds its ways at your friend’s happiness

“God,” he gasps “You’re finally publishing it Oh My God!” he says in disbelief

“I know … I almost thought It’ll never happen,” you pout with a smile before leaning “You’re the first person that knows!” you say with a jolly tone

“he’s the first person to know what?”

You body tenses at the signature deep voice of your best friend, quickly turning around and watching the guy who’s ignored your message and calls all day.

“If you were interested enough you should have answered my calls,” you snap back at him, feeling annoyed that despite ignoring you the whole day he’s standing there, all cocky and haughty as if he’s done nothing wrong

“I was busy,” He shrugs off walking closer to your seat and sits beside you “so are you gonna tell me or should I ask Jimin?” he points out at the guy who’s smiling and keeping his silence over your quarrel like always

“They decided to publish my book,” You say crossing your arm across your chest and watch his expression soften into a smile

“For real?” He asks leaning closer to you

“Yes and if you answered your calls instead of spending the whole day get laid, You might have been the first one to hear the news.” you hiss back at him in anger, not knowing why you’re so pressed about the fact that he’s ignored you considering he almost never answers his phone anyways

“That’s … Great, ” he says as his soft smile dances on his lips and you look at him in surprise, not seeing the cocky expression or his usual teasing comebacks when almost immediately his expression turns all around into his fuckboy self “And that’s thanks to who?”

“Well, ” you clear your throat as the memories from the night before rush all your blood to your cheek “I was gonna thank you for your contribution if you weren’t a dick and didn’t miss my calls.”

Taehyung studies you having a hard time making eye contact with him when your voice is called out by a stranger’s voice

“Y/N,”

your head snaps back at the source of the voice and you internally sigh at the sight of your colleague who forced you into buying him drink because as he said “You owe him” for winning Jung’s heart

“Seriously, did you have to come all the way here for just drinks?”

“Well, you could have just … not come I guess, Jeon” you roll your eyes at his whining, missing Taehyung’s careful gaze which examines the guy walking to you

“Who’s this?” He asks, only then you look at your best friend and realize his hardened expression

“Jeon Jungkook, a colleague from work” you quickly reply him

Jungkook raise his hand into a small wave before bringing his attention back to you "Are we staying here?”

“Of course,” You furrow your eyebrows, before realizing his eyes which stops at Taehyung who’s occupied the only seat beside you “Oh, he’s leaving.” you say patting Taehyung’s shoulder, so he knows to empty the seat for Jungkook.

But he just sits there, his gaze dancing on the guy who’s standing with his arms across his chest waiting for him “Taehyung” you call and finally he tears his gaze from him and back to you

“What?” He growls in an angry tone

“Get off the seat,” You hiss, urging him to do as you say by pushing against his big arms and he finally picks his weight off and makes the seat empty for Jungkook

“Thanks, I guess.” Jungkook finally occupies the seat before grabbing a menu and looking through the drinks

You glare at Taehyung who’s still standing there, watching Jungkook with furrowed eyebrows, sighing in relief as he finally leaves the two of you alone.

“Boyfriend?” Jungkook asks raising an eyebrow as he points at Taehyung who’s now sitting idly with a couple of his rich friends

“Friend, an old friend who also owns this place.” you shrug it off as you grab the menu of his hand “He doesn’t charge me so we can drink all we want” you bring your gaze up to Jungkook as you hear him snort

“You really brought me all the way here for free drinks?” he says in disbelief

“Why not?” You shrug your shoulders “Who knows if the book does well or not, I need to save up just in case the royalties are not enough for a living.” you say as you wave your hand for Jimin

“Woah …” he shakes his head in disbelief “You’re a different species Y/N” he groans “A very cheap and stingy one.”

“Hey Hey, you asked for a drink, I’m getting you some. Stop being a dick.” you scold him as finally, Jimin makes his way to you

“Mhmm Who’s this new face I see here?” He teases you eyeing Jungkook who drums his finger on the bar table in front of him

“Jeon Jungkook” you quickly reply and Jimin’s lips form an O shape indicating he knows immediately who he is

“So what would you like me to serve you Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin asks with a flirty smile he usually offers the customers he wants to impress

“What about ... ” he hesitates as he scans through the menu “Some Johnnie”

“Oh, Thank Jesus I brought you here. You would have maxed my credit card at this rate.” you whine as you quickly face Jimin “Just the usual Jiminie. ” you sing song with a smile and thank him as he walks away to prepare your drinks

“Why? You were worried I make you pay for my drink?” He smirks as he turned on his seat to face you

“Isn’t that what you were trying to do?” You scoff in response “obviously I was smarter enough to not fall for your trap.”

“Y/N, ” he sighs as he leans closer to you, as you watch him travel the distance between your bodies “I’m gentleman enough to not allow the girl to pay,” he tilts his head to the side as his smirks deepen “Also you’ll fall for my trap someday, dont worry.” he mutters the words with a haughty tone

You gulp at his suggestive words, despite it not being the first time he openly flirts with you, finding it weird with the context of now being in a club rather than the safe four walls of your office.

"Well you don’t need to impress me Mr Gentleman,” you quickly reply shaking off the momentary tension that arises between you and Jungkook quickly pulls away and Jimin places your drinks in front of you

“Keep your money for the next girl you wanna get into her pants,” you say teasingly as you look around and grab your shot of tequila, immediately gulping it down in one go.

The fluid still rushing down your throat when your eyes double take at the scene. There he is, Taehyung sitting back on the soft and comfortable sofa, the girl draping over his body kissing her way up his neck as he drinks from his glass of alcohol you recognise as a glass of Henney.

That’s his favourite drink, you think as the scene along with the alcohol flooding your blood starts to flash back to a not very foreign memory of the girl riding his thigh in the same position.

You lick your lips as you quickly try to tear your gaze away from him so you don’t fall to the black hole you were trying to avoid all day, reminiscing every moment of your best friend fucking the shit out of that girl.

But then your eyes stop at his dark orbs, which are directly staring back at you. Your mind quickly flashbacks to those suggestive glances he gave your during his erotic action that had your pussy dripping like your whole body needed some release right there and then.

This time, however, his eyes glaze with a tint of something else, something you couldn’t properly read. His thick silver dyed eyebrows knitted into a frown as he parts his lips, perhaps due to the girl’s sinful action on his neck and it takes you all the willpower in your whole body to finally snap your gaze back at Jungkook.

“I gotta go to the loo!” you whisper as you quickly get on your two feet

“I’m gonna order more drinks, the same one for you?” He asks pointing at your shot and you nod, mouthing a quick thanks before making your way to the bathroom, you would be able to find your way to even if you were blind because of how often you have gotten drunk at this place.

You carefully make your way down the small hallway to the bathroom which is hidden at the back of the bar, almost reaching the women’s section when a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back, pushing you to the nearest wall.

You gasp in the sudden coldness of the stone wall greeting your back, feeling the person’s weight pushing you to the wall and allowing you small to no room to move.

Your head snaps back up at the figure of the guy, with the silver strands of hair covering his forehead messily, The mixture of alcohol and his expensive cologne that usually persisted on your pillows when he came over to sleep at your place for the night hitting your skin.

“Kim Tae … ” you call softly, looking at the guy’s expression contouring in anger “What’s wrong?” you ask dumbfounded

“Am I joke to you?” he asks through a clenched jaw, his eyes burning in dark rage “Huh?” He’s panting, his eyes travelling between your two dilated pupils as he demands an answer. You just look back at him, in pure shock as you witness the side of him, you’ve barely seen before.

Taehyung sighs for the nth time that morning watching the director presenting his achievement in his very recent business trip, at the tail of the large table.

There is a reason he hates being a part of his dad’s business and these painfully tedious business meetings formed by men, who are mostly in their 40s and 50s, with the exception of him and his brother, make a big part of this reason.

He grabs his phone lazily, scrolling through the notifications as his eyes trace through the bunch of messages he’s received from you

“Tae, I didn’t find you at the club that night? where were you?”

“Is everything alright?"

"Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

"Pick your phone up, I wanna talk to you!"

"Tae, call me when you’re free!"

"Tae Tae? Hello?"

"Earth to Kim Tae, Earth to Kim Tae!"

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TAE?”

“KIM TAEHYUNG, I’LL KILL YOU IF I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!”

“PICK YOUR FUCKING PHONE BEFORE I COME TO YOUR HOUSE AND STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH!”

“Fine, dont answer me! you’ll regret it once I find you!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT, I DON'T NEED YOUR LAME ASS! DONT EVEN ANSWER ME!”

His heart clenches at the sight of the last angry message, his slender fingers carding through his silver coloured hair. After his impulsive actions with you that night, he decided it was for the best to avoid you for a while until the topic becomes that of memory for both of you, more specifically for him and he can face you again.

His mind flutters to the night from a week before, the memories still fresh like he’s still in amidst that hallway, with you caged across his arms.

“What’s wrong?,” you repeat staring into the hooded eyes of the guy pressing your body to the wall, concern creeping on your expression “What? You’re scaring me with your ugly face Tae.” you chuckle nervously to try and ease the tension but he seems to not take your lead

“I guess it’s all a joke to you-” he mutters but his sentence is interrupted with a familiar voice

“Taehyung”

You both turn to your side, observing Jimin standing there with stern eyes that are directed only at Taehyung.

“What?” Taehyung spits back in an annoyed tone that catches your attention “I need your help with the accounts, one second.” Jimin quickly replies, his eyes still intensely boring into Taehyung’s.

Taehyung hesitates, his hands still firmly pressing you against the wall, a gasp leaving your lips only realizing how firm his hold can get when he loosens his grip and you shift forward towards his chest.

“Fine” he hisses as he glares back at you for a few seconds, biting his lips as if he’s chewing the words that are about to slip out.

“Taehyung, I said I need your help!” Jimin rushes him with an angry tone. You furrow your eyebrows examining Taehyung’s face before bringing your eyes back to Jimin.

“Tae, I think you should go,” you suggest pointing at the guy who’s waiting for Taehyung to react but the guy standing against you don’t have any intentions to move.

“Let’s go,” Jimin says as he grabs Taehyung’s arms and pulls him behind himself while you just stand there and stare at the back side of your two friends drifting away from you.

Jimin pulls the guy behind himself throwing him inside the first empty VIP room he finds before locking the door behind himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He shouts back at the silver-haired guy who’s brushing his messy hair off his forehead.

“What?” Taehyung asks in an unfazed tone receiving a mocking scoff from Jimin.

“What? Are you really acting dumb with me?” Jimin frowns in disbelief, examining his best friend “Kim Taheyung, she’s your best friend”

“So what?” Taehyung growls bringing his dark eyes to the guy “Just because she is, it doesn’t mean she can’t be more.”

“Oh yeah?” Jimin mocks in disbelief “So you want her to be more huh? That’s what you want?”

“She’s fucking around with that fuckface from her company” Taehyung snarls through gritted teeth “Why can’t she do the same with me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question Tae?” Jimin furrows his eyebrows watching the guy avoid his eyes nervously “fine, I’ll answer it for you. Its because you’re the type of guy who’s gone to STD checkups on a more regular basis than visiting your own parents and she-” Jimin sighs, hand carding through his rainbow-dyed hair “she can count the guys she’s slept with on one hand.”

“She’s as pure as virgin mary is what you’re saying” Taehyung nods in agreement “I already know that Jimin, you should be more creative than this old cliche story of bad boys dont fuck with good girls. I already know that by heart.”

“Do you?” Jimin jeers, his eyes widening in amusement “Is that why you’re trying her?”

“What do you wanna hear Jimin?” Taehyung’s dark, vulnerable eyes gaze at the shorter guy who’s staring back at him in rage “I fucking love her-” his eyes wander around as a small sigh leaves his lips “No, I always fucking loved her. I loved her since the day she pulled my shredded pieces together and forced me to face myself and quit being a fucking coward, hiding behind drugs and alcohol.” Taehyung brings his tear glazed eyes to his friend “Are you happy hearing it?”

“Taehyung you can’t,” Jimin shakes his head “You’ll hurt her and you know it as much as I do”

“I know …” Taehyung sighs, falling down on the soft single sofa as he dips his head into his hands, his voice barely audible as he murmurs “I just fucking lost my mind when I saw her with that guy,” he then brings his head up and faces the guy “Who the fuck is he anyway?”

“Jeon Jungkook, one of the writers at Jung’s company” Jimin replies in a quiet tone and his friend scoffs “He’s been hitting on her for a couple of months now from what I know,” Jimin adds the extra information in an attempt to hint his friend at the possibility of you with another man.

Taehyung clenches his jaw, the fine line on his jaw protruding as the thoughts of you and Jungkook flashing in his mind.

“Get yourself together before you come out,” Jimin walks closer to the guy and presses a warm grip on his shoulder “Think about a creative explanation too, she’s not like the dumb girls you sleep with. You gotta give her something she believes.”

Taehyung sighs leaning back against the headrest of the sofa in the quiet room as the door closes behind Jimin and he’s left on his own and the silence that creeps in the four walls of the room.

After his eye-opening conversation with Jimin, he decided that he was too drunk to come up with a good explanation for his childish jealousy over you and your colleague. So he did what every other emotionally immature guy his age would do, he started avoiding you.

Well, one could argue that the move was even dumber than giving a vague explanation to you. It could perhaps spark even more suspicion in your mind that something is really going on but he couldn’t come up with a better plan so he just went with what his guts told him to do.

His attempt, however, was barely successful as you guys basically were all over each other’s life at this point. Your favourite place outside the office you practically lived your life in, was the club he owned where you downed a concerning amount of alcohol, your system could barely handle.

So he locked himself in his apartment, knowing you’d never visit him without letting him know first because of the number of times you walked on him while he was fucking a random girl.

He winces at the thoughts, realizing how he’s been basically labelling himself as a fuckboy in your eyes, practically all the years you’ve known him. All the times you visited him at his apartment only to be greeted by the sight of him boning a girl.

It is practically idiotic of him to even imagine that you would accept him as a possible significant other, considering you’d be one of the few people who know exactly how many girls he’s been with.

His eyes travel from his phone to the director that concludes his talk with a couple of flattering sentences for the Chairman of the company which happens to be his dad.

he has to stop his pupils from rolling to the back of his head, thinking the middle-aged director probably badmouths his whole family in his late-night drunk conversations with his colleagues, while sucking his dad’s dick in this meeting room.

The meeting is over and the Directors greet them one by one, their obvious flattering greetings for his brother and very reluctant greetings to him not going unnoticed from his observing eyes.

He is known to be good for nothing son of Kim Corporation, being famous to be on the list of useless rich kids who basically contribute nothing to their family business.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise for him to see the directors treat him with such underwhelming attitude, considering he’ll be not much of a use to them anyway.

“Both of you, come to my room!” his dad orders sternly, before leaving the two young men in the meeting room, the room now completely empty after everyone leaves.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Taehyung sighs in frustration, ruffling his messy hair as he grabs a bottle of water from the table and looks at his brother “I mean honestly no one really cares if I’m here or not.”

“Dad cares,” his brother replies in a soft tone “and I care, so you’re attending the directors meeting until we are here.” he then glances over the guy before asking “You alright? you look a bit out of it, Tae?”

“It’s alright,” Taehyung replies, feeling slightly taken off guard by his brother’s question “Just some personal shit.”

Seokjin isn’t always indifferent to him, but the age difference between them hasn’t allowed the two brothers to be super close to each other. He doesn’t blame Seokjin for it. after all, he was taking care of all the responsibilities since forever and he was always thankful for it. But still, it was quite hard for him to open up to the older, considering they barely had much one on one time growing up.

“By the dark circles under your eyes and your unwashed hair I can tell its girl issues,” the older suggest, watching Taehyung tense on his spot at the remark “I’ve been there, dont worry! I know how it usually goes.”

“You’ve had-” Taehyung asks with a frown on his face “lady issues?”

“Of course,” Seokjin laughs at his surprised expression “What did you think? that I’m just a heartless jerk?”

“No It's just that-” Taehyung scratches the back of his head “You dont seem the type to be into that shit!”

“What shit?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow “Love?” he asks mischievously

Taehyung clears his throat, blushing like a little kid being who is caught doing something embarrassing “Yeah, Whatever that shit is called.”

“Oh dear,” Seokjin shakes his head watching his younger brother “poor girl, If I ever meet her I’ll tell her to run.” he scoffs, watching his brother grimace at his remark “let’s go, dad is waiting!” he says before leaving the room ahead of him.

You press the green button beside Taehyung’s number for the 100th time that week, pressing the device to your ear as you murmured “Pick your phone up, you little bitch!” under your breath

The phone continues to ring for a few more times before sending you to the nasal voice of a woman asking you to leave a voice message. Well, the first few times you did, you left angry voice messages on his phone, screaming at the phone for him to stop ignoring you but you have given up by now.

You reach for your bag on your desk and push the phone in it as you whisper “Fine, ignore me all you want. I’ll just barge into your house and confront your ugly face by force.” you mutter the angry words to your computer screen as you quickly save your drafts when you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“Should we go for a drink tonight?” He stops by your desk, looking at your sour expression "Having a bit of slump?“ he asks lightly, not realizing he’s playing with the edge of the knife considering how angry you are "I could probably help-”

“Piss off Jeon,” you hiss, throwing an angry glare at him “I dont have the nerves to entertain you right now.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, frowning at your heated tone “I was just trying to be helpful, you dont need to be so aggressive all the time.”

“No thank you, Mr Jeon,” you face him after grabbing your handbag and standing across him “I haven’t changed my mind and I dont wanna fuck you.” you say in a calm tone complemented by a fake smile.

“Seriously?!” he scoffs, leaning closer as you take a step back unconsciously, caging you between his body and the desk “After all this, you still think I just wanna get into your pants?”

“I …” you breath out, you expression softening as you realize perhaps you overreacted a bit “I’m sorry, I haven’t had the best day. I shouldn’t have vented my anger on you.”

He’s taken back by your apology, you can tell by how his dark eyes soften into those round, soft orbs that sometimes, although you desperately want to deny has you melting for them.

“It’s alright,” he takes a tiny step back, but still close enough to be face to face with you “My offer is still on, do you wanna have a drink tonight?” he hesitates before sighing “It’s on me, you dont have to take me to your friend’s club for free drinks.”

“Did you hate it that much?” You furrow your eyebrows at his remark

“I mean-” he hesitates before muttering “He was onto us the whole time we were there, It was a bit awkward.”

“What?” you laugh at his statement “No he wasn’t! Taehyung is not like that, he’s never the type to be counting how many drinks I have there.”

“Oh Gosh, ” he sighs with a mocking tone “You’re a bit dense, aren’t you?”

“Jeon Jungkook-” you hiss but he’s fast to interrupt you

“You didn’t answer me?” he raises an eyebrow “Drink? tonight? Yes or No?”

“fine,” your roll your eyes at his impatient tone “I’ll save you from wasting time, finding a chick to drink with if you’re that desperate!”

“That’s so nice of you Y/N,” he nods as he leans closer and licks his lips seductively “Do you also take responsibility for my other needs?”

Your jaw drops in disappointment, realizing men are looking for one thing after all, “Changed my mind,” you reply with a forced smile “Go find a chick to meet all of your needs, It’ll be easier for both of us.”

You walk past him when he grabs your wrist and stops you midway

“8 PM, the bar across the office!” he says in a firm tone as if he’s implying that he won’t accept any rejection

“I’ll think about it,” you reply, refusing to give in till the end as you leave the office.

You get into the uber you called a few minutes ago, apologizing to the young man for making him wait, cursing Jungkook under your breath as you hand him the address to Taehyung’s place.

It’s been a week now; since the night Taehyung stopped you in the hallway leading to the bathroom you frequently visited in the club. He was looking with a displeased expression and as you started to recognize the type of anger glazing his eyes, you grew even more concerned.

It was the same type of rage you witnessed once before when you sat there in Taehyung’s living room while his dad lectured him with venom in his voice about how disappointed he is.

He then went on to scold Taehyung for living like scum and hanging out with beggars like you.

You sat there, barely feeling any anger for the older man, at this point in life you were old enough to know a thing called the gap between rich and poor and how people from the higher socioeconomic status perceive those like you.

His dad was a dick but what concerned you the most was Taehyung glaring at his dad’s direction while panting heavily in anger, looking like he might charge towards him any second.

Your prediction turned out to be right when the guy shifted on his spot, about to do exactly as you guessed but your hands were quick to cover his thigh, urging him to contain himself by pressing as hard as you could on his quads muscles.

You remember this expression very well because what followed after his dad left his apartment was him screaming the anger he felt for the older man followed by the two of your drinking until you could barely speak.

When you both had enough alcohol in your system and your words started to become more of a slur than a clear speech, Taehyung cried in your chest and apologised for all his dad said to you while you reassured him that you were fine. The next day both you decided to forget the night.

But it was different now, there was no involvement of his dad and the only person in the equation he could be angry at that night was you. because you somehow managed to piss him off enough to bring out the worst you could ever imagine out of him.

Your heart sinks as you remember once again what happened after your discontinued conversation which was interrupted by Jimin. These days you never see Taehyung in the club at nights, barely receiving any replies to your calls and texts.

Although you decided to not read much into it and try to give him time, you started to become more suspicious that he’s avoiding you as he continued ignoring your calls. And today, you finally lost it.

You were looking at the edited version of the scene you’ve written based on him, every line reminding you the buried anxious feeling you had about losing him. He’s been your best friend for years now, and even the thought of losing him over a mistake that you weren’t even aware of committing it, was suffocating for you.

The car pulls over and you quickly get off the backseat, greeting the driver in a rushed manner as you run in the apartment complex. The old security greets you with his usual friendly tone but you’re too anxious to return the favour as you press the button on the side of the lift.

After a few seconds, the door opens and you get in, pressing the number that leads to Taehyung’s flat a couple of times as if it will help get you there any faster.

You grab your phone and attempt to call him one last time, you’ve already decided to barge into his flat even if he doesn’t reply but it doesn’t hurt to try and be respectful of his privacy before you say fuck it and force yourself into his personal space.

You’re not surprised when the phone sends you to voicemail, considering this has been the pattern of you attempting to contact him for the past few days.

You stand in front of his flat, inhaling air into your lungs as you feel all the anger and emotions that have been piled up in your heart finally get to your head as you punch the passcode in the key slot and twist the doorknob.

“Don't you dare blame me for invading your privacy when I fucking warned you Kim Tae-” you start to rant your way in with a raised voice as you throw your shoes off your feet on the side, bringing your gaze up only to see Taehyung with another unfamiliar, older guy sitting in his living room.

“H-Hi!” you force the greeting, suddenly all your anger disappearing upon seeing the two men

“Y/N,” he calls, his tone hoarse and breathy “What are you doing here?” he stands up walking to you

Your eyes travel between him and the guy who’s drinking from his pint of beer, eyeing you from head to toe as you reply “You kept ignoring my calls,” your eyes are still at the guy who smiles with himself, taking a bigger gulp of his beer upon hearing your voice “So I came here.” You finally bring your focus back on Taehyung as you abruptly ask “who’s that?”

“His brother,” the guy finally stands up and waves at you “Glad you asked. I thought I’m gonna have to sit here awkwardly the whole time. I’m Seokjin.” he then eyes his brother with a playful smile “and who are you?”

“Y/N-” you mutter but your self-introduction quickly comes to an end after a word when Taehyung grabs your arm and pushes you to the door

“Look, I’m actually busy now. I’ll call you and we can talk later!” he says as he reaches for the doorknob, while you repulsively move towards the door

“Tae, I think she can join us,” Seokjin calls for him and you look back to see if the guy is serious about his proposition “I mean she must be pretty close to you, to know your passcode. She might be able to help with your issue.”

“Help?” You quickly perk at the words as you pull your arms out of Taehyung’s grip and step closer to where his brother is sitting “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung says gripping your wrist this time and pulling you back towards the door “It’s nothing you should be concerned with-”

“He’s getting married.” Seokjin declares and your eyes are about to pop out of socket as they travel between him and Taehyung.

“What?” you shriek with lost eyes “W-When … How’s that even possible?” you ask as you shake your head in disbelief “Kim Tae? Getting married?” you laugh hysterically, trying to cover up the sinking feeling in your heart.

You’re not even sure why you’re feeling so out of breath hearing about your best friend’s plans for marriage “Is that a joke?” you ask with a mocking tone

“Does he look like he’s joking?” Taehyung frowns at your response

“So you’re telling me, you,” you hesitate to point at his chest “Kim Taehyung is getting married?” you laugh again before pausing to look at him “Its must be a joke , right?”

Taehyung sighs as he releases his grip on your arm before throwing himself at the nearest couch, shutting his eyes closed. You realize at this point, that perhaps, it’s not a joke after all so you quickly sit across him and look at his brother.

“But he’s not ready!” you protest in a rushed tone, not even considering the implications of your word before his brother speaks out.

“Mhmm Interesting,” he nods as he eyes his younger brother “And why do you say so?”

“Because-” you start the sentence, watching Tae bringing his gaze up onto you as you clumsily make the sentence “Because he’s still immature and-” you bat your eyelids trying to think of the next word “and he’s a fuckboy. he messes around with girls and he’s not the type to commit to one girl. How can he ever be bound to one person by marriage?”

You dont realize how the words that are leaving your lips carelessly could be interpreted as you’re saying them, but only come to your senses when Taehyung’s eyes darken.

“So that’s what you think of me huh?” his husky voice rings in your ear and you gulp, feeling intimidated by his tone for the first time in your years of friendship “That I’m immature, that I can’t commit to girls and I just mess around with them huh?” He scoffs, his head falling back as he shuts his eyes closed, making the bulging vein on his neck come to view.

“I mean- I, I-” you stutter as you try to form a response, eyeing his older brother who’s watching the scene in silence “I’m not totally wrong, am I?”

“No,” he nods, his eyes still shut and his voice lowered an octave “You’re right!” he nods again with a dark smirk plastered on the corner of his lips as he brings his gaze to you “But that’s not any of your concern as I said. So why don’t you mind your own fucking business?”

“T-Tae,” you call softly, your eyes glazing with tears that are threatening to fall down your cheek. It's been a week since you’ve seen him, you’ve missed him so much that all you want to do is to hug his stupid gigantic chest and feel at ease again. but instead, you are sitting across him being told that you should mind your own business right into your face “I … you’ve been avoiding me … and I just wanted-”

“Stop invading my personal space,” he spits back, his voice filled with sharp venom that cuts right through your heart “And you’re right, I’m immature, a fuckboy, a scum as my everyone else say. But that’s not any of your concern,” his jaw protrudes as he pauses before adding “That’s my future wife’s concern and she’s apparently fine with it.”

“F-Future wife?” You repeat, the words somehow translating to the fact that you will lose your best friend very soon “You’re really getting married? With who?” You ask in disbelief

“The daughter of JH Group,” its Seokjin’s voice that responds you this time and your gaze drifts away from your best friend “she really likes him,” he suggests, a playful smile fluttering on his lips that for some reason makes you want to punch him right there “I guess she doesn’t mind his past with other girls.”

I don’t mind his past, you scream in your head but you quickly have to shake the thoughts off and scold yourself for thinking of such an absurd thing. You have to blink rapidly to stop the tears from rolling down your eyes.

“Good,” you nod flashing a forced smile to his brother “I was just worried,” you dig your teeth onto your bottom lip “Watching him play with girls like playing cards, changing from one to another so fast because he got bored of them easily had me worried, wondering which stupid girl would ever want to stay with him.” you say through gritted eyes, your gaze piercing into Taehyung’s dark and furious orbs as you stand up “Good for you, I better go before I’m late for my date with Jungkook.”

You’re not sure why you include that extra information about your so-called date with Jungkook; probably one of the many questions that sparked during this conversation along with others like why you were so heated over Taehyung’s marriage and why you felt jealous of this girl you didn’t even know just because she was Taehyung’s soon to be wife.

You shut the door behind yourself after bidding Seokjin a polite goodbye, leaving the two guys on their own.

What you dont know is that the two remaining men sit there, conversing about no other person but you.

“That’s it?” Seokjin asks the guy who has his head between his hands, falling low against his body “You’re not gonna even go after her?”

“Hyung,” he breaths out facing the older guy with rage “With all due respect, can you please shut the fuck up?” he’s panting, his nose flaring with air that he exhales every time “Why the fuck did you tell her about the marriage?” he scoffs , his gaze wandering on the empty couch that you were sitting on a few seconds ago “To see how she belittles me and calls me a scum?”

“You’re an idiot Tae,” the older shakes his head in disapproval “You both are.” he sighs as he stands up from his seat, placing his pint of beer on the glass tea table “I did what I could, but I can’t make two blind people see eye to eye when they both refuse to even open their eyes."

he says as he walks closer to the frustrated guy "Open your eyes, or you’ll have to watch her sleep in another man’s arms. That’s all the advice I can give you.” he says before walking to the door and leaving Taehyung on his own.

“Hey,” you flash a tipsy smile which has the guy furrow his eyebrows as he gets closer to you “sit down!” you offer the seat beside you to him

“Are you planning to kill me?” he asks in a suspicious tone

“Not today, Jeon!” you chuckle and watch his expression contouring in more confusion “Maybe some other time. for tonight I need a drinking buddy.”

“Are you sure?” He flinches at your strange behaviour as he continues “You’re acting really weird.”

“I’m trying to be nice,” you roll your eyes at him as you fill up his glass with the bottle Johnnie you ordered earlier “Your favourite right?”

He nods, gulping the shot down as he eyes you carefully “Spit it out, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you gulp a gentle sip of your glass “I just had an argument with my friend.”

“Kim Taehyung?” he asks and you look at him in surprise

“How do you know?” you ask, tensing at how easily he can read you

“He was giving me death glares the whole night,” he smirks as he turns around to face you on his side “Are you sure you guys are just friends?”

“Y-Yeah,” you nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the question, after your earlier conversation with Taehyung and his brother you are still baffled about your confusing emotions about him and his marriage “why?”

“He seems to like you,” he shrugs “I mean if he was really just your friend, he would have never cockblocked you like he did that night?”

“Wait, What?” you shake your head at his statement “he never cockblocked me?”

“He was literally watching us for the first half an hour I got there,” he smirks looking at your surprised expression “I guess you have things to clear out with your "friend”.“

You consider Jungkook’s words for a few seconds before quickly shaking it off with a bitter smile "There is no need. He’s getting married soon, that should be enough to clear things out.” you reply and Jungkook raises an eyebrow

“Interesting,” he nods, tapping his shot at yours “Okay then.” he shrugs indifferent and gulps the shot down “To your friend’s marriage.”

You enter the familiar space of the club you visit almost every night, greeting Jimin who’s cleaning the shelves filled with different bottles of alcoholic drinks.

“Hey Jiminie,” you call for him, catching his attention as he looks at you and flashes soft smile “How’s it going?”

“You’re early tonight!” the voices out with a grin

“I thought maybe I can find Tae if I come early,” you reply in a hesitant tone, avoiding his piercing gaze which is trying to figure you out “Is he here?”

“He … ” he starts, hesitantly glancing his way up at the VIP rooms upstairs and you immediately know you finally found your prey as you make your way to the stairs

“No, wait-”

You hear Jimin calling for you from behind but you can barely stop yourself from barging into each room at the second floor, checking in to every single one of them, one after another to find him.

It’s been 3 days since you talked at his place, 10 days since he’s been ignoring your calls and texts and you were not having it anymore. If it took another confrontation and an argument to come to closure, you were prepared to go all the way.

It’s the 5th room you open the door to when you find him, half sitting on a couch while a girl in her lingerie’s is kneeling against his thighs, pleasing him.

His eyes are shut, resembling the way he closed them the day you argued in his flat, droplets of sweat running down the side of his neck while his plump lips part and wanton moans leave his lips.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, holding onto the girl’s hair firmly as he orders “Deeper, suck me deeper.”

The girl complies and you lick your lips, watching her gag on his girth, this time not very surprised by his ridiculous size since you’ve seen it all before. You have to leave, you clearly tell yourself that in your mind but still your feet are stuck to the floor, your eyes not tearing themselves apart from the erotic scene of your best friend receiving pleasure from another girl.

You dig your teeth onto your bottom lips as you remember the weekend you spent at home, bringing yourself to orgasm again and again just by the aid of your newly arrived vibrator and the dirty erotic scenes you’ve had saved in your memory from watching your best friend fuck another girl.

You just blamed it on the time of the month, your ovulation, the fact that you missed Taehyung and also was immensely pissed at him that he was the key to your delicious highs all weekend.

But you can no longer deny it, you are thirsting over your best friend and his seductively large dick. You bite your lips, feeling a drip of arousal running down your thighs as you confess to your sin in your mind.

You gasp as Taehyung suddenly parts his lids and bring them to you, pupils, dilating in surprise as he catches sight of you. but what follows causes your eyeballs to practically popping out of the socket.

“Y/N-” he moans in a whiny tone, holding onto the girl’s head as he thrusts his hip forward into her throat “Fuck, Y/N …” he calls again, throwing his head back “Its feels so good, Fuck …” he sighs, shutting his eyes closed again.

Your eyes travel to the girl and that’s your epiphany, you wanna be her. you wanna be on your knees, with your lips around Taehyung’s girth, deep throating and gagging on his ginormous cock until he calls your name like how he is now.

The rush of arousal drips down your core as blood races up your cheek and you finally come clean with yourself and realize you should no longer stay there. You turn on your heel, finally tearing your gaze from the sensual scene before rushing out of the room and down the stairs.

“Y/N … what happened?” Jimin asks in concern, his eyes examining your crimson tinted face

“N…Nothing …” you say panting heavily as you practically ran down the stairs “I gotta go, see you later.” you manage to form the words clumsily before you rush out of the club.

It's been officially two weeks since your quarrel with Taehyung. If for the first ten days he was the only one guilty of avoiding the situation, now it was on your side too. After practically finding yourself drooling over your best friend’s cock in another girl’s mouth, you decided you really need to get your life together.

Your first defence mechanism was to bring up excuses, it’s been long since you were in a relationship, its been even longer since you put your genital anywhere near another human being. So you assumed you were just confused and flustered by the carnal desires.

There is still that turn of your stomach at the thought of Taehyung marrying the girl you secretly hated even before meeting her, that was kind of nagging you to prove you otherwise. but you are stronger to let it sink into your thoughts and make their destructive effects.

You decide to organize your room on your day off, the whole organization giving you both time and venue to organize your mind at the same time. you aren’t even surprised when you spend the whole morning cleaning the room you basically leave in the morning only to come back late at night, intoxicated by alcohol to sleep in.

You sigh as you pull out all of your drawers, emptying the content of each of them to vacuum the month old dust that has accumulated in it. sitting in the middle of the pile of notebooks and journals you find your photo album which contains all your memories growing up.

You decide a walk down memory lane would be a good idea for a mundane day like this so you flip through the pages, smiling at how silly you look in each picture.

Your finger stops flipping through the page when there is a picture of you and Taehyung, both in your school uniform making faces to the camera with your graduation certificates in hand.

You dont even realize you’re crying, the wet trail of tear down your cheek is your only clue to the emotions pouring out on a physical level.

“Idiot,” you whisper touching the guy’s tanned skin in the image “I missed you.”

your attention diverts to your phone on your side, glancing at the text notification on the screen from Jung.

“Hey everyone, dont forget the party tonight. We’re all gathering at EVE, the bar across the office. dont forget everyone can bring their partner/significant other. See you all there!”

You sigh, remembering you committed to attending the party that Jung decided to throw to celebrate your new book with everyone else. your eyes glaze over the word partner/ significant other and you heave a sigh. These are the times you hated being single the most.

Jungkook is your momentary option, but considering how much of a big ego he is, you would never bring yourself down to ask him first. it is already late and you have to come up with an idea.

you scroll through your contacts, considering every guy friend you have. Jimin is your go-to option but you know in these situations but you know he works at the club tonight and since its weekend, he won’t be able to leave the place to the inexperienced part-timers either.

you fingers stop scrolling at Taehyung’s name, gulping nervously as your finger hovers over his name when suddenly the phone goes dark and then his name flashes on the screen along with the ring of the phone.

“Hello?” you immediately answer the phone, cursing yourself for appearing so desperate when his voice echoes in the device

“Hey…” he greets awkwardly as he shifts over the phone “H..How are yo-”

“Do you wanna go to a party with me?” you ask in a rushed tone, interrupting him midway through his greeting

“O-Ok …” he replies hesitantly “when is it?” he leads you on to your surprise

“Tonight!” you say nervously as you shift the phone to your other ear, your gaze fixed on the guy’s younger version in the image “Are you busy?”

“N-No … I … I mean-” he breaths out nervously as he murmurs “Its fine, I’ll pick you up then.”

“Okay, see ya.” you disconnect the phone before rushing to the shower to get ready.

The office parties are one place you need to show that you are more than the nerd author who spends her days stuck onto her chair writing fictions. So you usually put a lot more effort than the dark pencil skirt and white dress shirt you usually sport at work.

But this time, you’re not sure why but you’re feeling all giddy inside, like a teenager going on her first date who wants to look good to the boy of her fantasies.

You spend another half an hour staring into your vanity as you try to perfect your makeup and eyeliners, the masses of Q tips and wet wipes messily spread over the table indicating your failure.

You sigh in relief as the final touch of lipstick comes to your lips, and you check the time on your phone realizing you’ve got ready just on time.

A simple text from Taehyung, saying he’s waiting for you downstairs has you rushing down your hallway, with your handbag and heels in each hand. you quickly slide into your heels before finally leaving the house.

Taehyung is in his bright red Audi, which usually has eyes drawn to it, just like its owner. You feel nervous, something in your tummy turns when brings his gaze from his phone up to you as he hears your heels click on the ground.

You hold your breath in your chest, the momentary eye contact fluttering the memories of the last time you saw those dark orbs looking back at you.

“Hey!” you pant as you get in the passenger’s side, reaching for the seatbelt when he leans in and pulls it for you

“Hey!” he murmurs in his deep voice, his warm breath hitting your neck as he shifts away and fastens the seat belt “Where is the place?”

“EVE, the bar in front of the office.” you quickly mutter as you search for your GPS but he presses his hand on yours to stop you

“I think I know it,” he mutters and you gulp, feeling his touch on your hand.

You can’t believe you’re craving for the simplest touch from him only after two weeks. You wonder if spending time with anyone for so long would make you so needy and craving for their existence as you craved for Tae

“How have you been?” he asks, his eyes fixed on the road

“Good, pretty good,” you reply, proud of yourself for not stuttering your answer

“How’s the book going?” he asks, glancing at your for a moment before drifting his attention back on the road

“Good, we’re due to publish it next month,” you hesitate before you add “Tonight’s party is held because of the book.”

“Mhmm,” he hums in response, nodding his head “You should have told me, I would have brought a gift or something,” he says as he purses his lips into a tiny pout.

It takes all your willpower to not lean in and kiss that tiny pout on his lips but you manage to hold back and mutter “Its fine,” you chuckle awkwardly as you add “I mean, you were my muse, so I should be the one buying you something.”

He takes his eyes from the road, glancing at you for a second while having the steering skillfully controlled without having any view of the road ahead, his only view your anxious expression.

“Muse?” he asks, narrowing his eyes “Right!” he nods, his tongue poking to lick his lips as his aura changes into his usual mischievous mode “I forgot I was the reason you finished the book.”

“Yeah,” you agree with him “I kind of owe the publication of this book to you,” you confess honestly

“And as long as I remember you never paid me back,” he says in a sassy tone, while he reverses parks his sports car into one of the spots allocated in front of the bar.

You ignore his words, reaching for your seatbelt when he leans in, his face a few inches away from you as he holds onto the hand your trying to unfasten your seatbelt with.

“So,” he hesitates, his dark eyes piercing into yours “how are you gonna pay me back?”

“H..How do you want me to pay you back?” you ask as you bat your eyelids anxiously “I mean- I mean it’d be ridiculous for me to pay you back in money.”

“right, It can’t be money but there should be another way right?” he asks, a faint smirk glazing on his lips when the click of the seatbelt echoes in the silence of the car and the fabric is pulled back into its place in a fast pace “I’ll think about it,” he says simply before getting off the car.

The party is as boring as it always been. a bunch of colleagues who absolutely have no interest in each other’s life, showing up with their significant others, only to prove others that somehow their life is more than what they do in the company which is perhaps not even true.

You can sense the eyes of the ladies and even some guys on Taehyung from the all over the room. it wasn’t the first time the silver-haired guy attracted attention in a social gathering like this so you were somehow used to having people swooning over his beauty.

But for some reason, you feel your throat going dry every time he greets another lady with his suggestive and seductive words. The guy has a big sign reading “I have the best dick in the room” plastered all over his confident tone and expressions and the fact that you know that is true anger you even more.

Who are you kidding, you were practically one of those girls who wanted to be served by his dick a few days ago and you’re not even sure if you’ve changed your mind since or not.

So you have no right to judge when one of your colleagues who come alone to the party starts to engage him in a heated conversation about the new clothes line released by Gucci which Taehyung’s body was adorned by.

You quietly walk away from the two, walking to the bartender as you ask for a tequila, reminiscing all the times you’ve asked Jimin for one. You miss him, considering you’ve met the guy at Taehyung’s club more often than your own parents.

You down the tequila feeling suddenly down about the whole situation you put yourself in. Was this book even worth it? you wonder as you glance back at the silver-haired guy who’s seducing yet another girl for the night.

Maybe if you weren’t aware of how good he dicks his girls down, if that night you refused to cave in to the temptations of beating Jungkook, if you just wrote the piece from a text reference or something … maybe then your feelings was never ignited for your best friend. Maybe now you wouldn’t be feeling the turn in your tummy from the sight of him flirting with other girls. or that sinking feeling in your heart every time you remember that he’ll be married soon.

“I was waiting for your call!” Jungkook orders a shot for himself glancing over at your best friend before muttering “But I guess you had someone else to come with.”

you glance at your side, hearing Jungkook’s voice, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as your reply “I was waiting for yours.” at this point you dont even care if you place your ego aside, you’re too tipsy to keep your head high.

“We’re both quite thick-headed, aren’t we?” He scoffs at your response “That’s why we’ve been breathing on each other’s neck for two years in that office and yet …” he takes a sip of his glass of Johnnie “none of us have the balls to do anything.”

“I assumed you’d have the balls,” you raise an eyebrow, the alcohol dissolving in your blood giving you extra courage “I guess not much is happening down there, Jeon.” you motion down at his crotch with your head

“You’re so fucking cheeky all the time … ” he inhales as he takes a step closer to you “I bet that smart mouth of yours would look so good around my cock,” he whispers the filthy words and you have to take a moment to digest the fact that he just suggested such filthy thing in a public place like this.

“Why dont we try?” you challenge him and this time you take a step closer “I’d love to see if you actually have any balls.”

He smirks at your play on words, clenching his jaw as his eyes darken in pure lust “the bathroom at our 3 o'clock, be there in 5 minutes."

he doesn’t allow you to question his proposition for a second time, as he turns on his heel and makes his way to the location he just notified you about.

You take your time, downing another shot since what you were about to do needed a bit more alcohol courage than you already had. You’ve never done public before but for some reason, with the jealousy and frustration blinding your vision, you found the idea extremely appealing.

You place the glass shot before turning on your heels and nervously making your way to the male bathroom that Jungkook disappeared to earlier. To your utter surprise, no one is around and you make your way inside without embarrassingly caught red-handed.

After a quick knock, the door opens and Jungkook yanks you in the small cubicle, pressing his lips on your as he pushes you to the wooden door.

You impatiently reach for his belt, loosening the leather material before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants all in a few seconds.

"Impatient huh?” He breathes out, watching you focus your attention on his crotch as your lower his pants down, dropping to your knee.

“It’s not like we have much time,” you spit back with a frown, keeping your gaze at him as you lower his boxer on his thighs.

You gulp, your eyes slowly drifting down to his toned muscles, wondering how the hell he manages to be so muscular and fit considering he spends most his time sitting on his desk like you.

“I guess you do have balls,” you point out mockingly as you glance up, watching him scoff at your remark

“Are you just gonna examine my balls or you wanna do something about it?” He raises an eyebrow

“Of course …” you reach to grab a fistful of him, pumping his dick to get the blood rushing in his manhood, watching his muscles contract and relax against your hand “I’m gonna show you my balls now,” you say before leaning in and enveloping him between your lips.

“Fuck,” he writes, his head falling back as he thrusts his length even more in your mouth “It feels even better than what I imagined.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his words, thinking exactly how many times the guy imagined you in the current position to have come up with a certain expectation like that.

He’s not as gigantic as Taehyung, you realize within the first few pumps of his cock in your mouth, but he is good in his own league. It doesn’t take long before his hand grips onto strands of your hair, pushing himself further in your throat and your gag reflex starts to get in the way.

“Shit,” he clenches his jaw as he brings his gaze down to you “I need more, take me more Y/N.”

You slack your jaw and ease your throat to allow the guy in even more, as your fondle with his balls at the same time to amplify his pleasure.

“God YES!” He cries as he fucks your throat “You take me so well baby, its feel like heaven.”

The praising words encourage you to move your head faster while using your free hand to hold onto the guy’s iron thighs as a handle. Jungkook picks up your attempt and fastens the snap of his own hip in and out of your mouth and he reaches his high.

“FUCK Y/N … ” he calls in a needy tone “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum in your mouth baby,” he warns and you give him a nod of approval, Jungkook releasing a big spurt of his cum down your throat.

His hip stutters and he slows down before completely pulling out and quickly grabbing your wrist to pull you up onto your feet.

“Fuck,” he voices out “That was-” he tries to form the words but instead he leans in and kisses your lips, tasting his own cum in your tongue.

As you shut your eyes close in the kiss, you can’t help but see Taehyung’s dark orbs glaring your way. a rush of guilt fills your heart, thinking he’s probably out there in the boring party you brought him to, while you’re fucking your coworker in the male bathroom.

“Jungkook …” you gasp as you pull back, nervously shifting your gaze as you mutter “I should get myself fixed before anyone comes.” you quickly turn around to unlock the door when his voice stops you

“before anyone comes?” His dark voice echoes in your ear as he adds “Are you worried your "friend”, Taehyung, sees you with my cum all over your lips? “ he whispers against your ear as he leans closer to you, his chest pressing against your back.

You furrow your eyebrows, sensing a tint of evil in his voice, but for now, all you were concerned with was to leave this cubicle and clean your cum covered lips.

So you open the door of the bathroom and step out, bringing your head up to face the mirror only to see your best friend standing there with his hands across his chest, glaring at you as he rests his back on the tiled wall

"Tae …” you call for him, voice shaking at the thought of him hearing all the filthy things you’ve been doing with Jungkook a few seconds ago “W..What are you doing he-”

“I know what I want as payback for being your muse,” he says through gritted teeth as he points at the closed door of the cubicle where Jungkook is in behind you “I’ll have what he had!” he says in a demanding tone and your eyes widen in surprise.

You glance over at your friend whose eyes are fixed on the road. After your embarrassing confrontation in the bathroom, followed by his bizarre request, he left you on your own in there.

You proceeded to fix yourself up in the bathroom mirror, not even bothering to bid Jungkook a goodbye as your only goal at this point was to leave this place and all memories associated with it behind.

So here you are now, sitting in your friend’s sports car, driving to God knows where.

You bite your lips nervously upon seeing his well-defined eyebrows furrowing close together. He seems pissed, you can tell by the silent treatment he’s been giving you all night at the party.

He even had the audacity to flirt with every girl who was on her own, completely ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be your so-called “partner” after interrupting your session with Jungkook.

You scoff at the thought, which immediately draws his attention, his hollow eyes travelling momentarily from the road to you. You gulp quickly looking away, not bearing to watch his angry eyes.

No matter how many years its been since you’ve known him, you feel your blood running cold when he gives you those angry glares. He is intimidating, no matter how much you deny it with yourself or him.

The car pulls over and you glance over at the sight of his apartment complex coming to your view, Taehyung stopping just in front of the lobby as the security waves for him.

you watch as he gets off the passenger side, and you have no other choice but to follow as he hands the car key to his security. Your rushed footsteps follow after him inside the lobby, watching him press the elevator button while tapping the front of his shoe on the marble floor.

As you stop across him and attempt to ask what you’re doing here, the lift’s door opens and he steps in. You hesitate to watch him from the outside as he presses the button to his flat.

The door proceeds to close between you when he quickly presses the button and gives you an unimpressed look

”What?” He raises an eyebrow “Are you coming or not?”

You feet unconsciously step in upon his questioning and the door closes behind you. You totally lose all trail of your thoughts, and the questions you were gonna ask, just watching the digit on the lift increasing dumbfoundedly.

The lift stops with the sound of a bell and your best friend steps out. You follow after him silently like a kid who is waiting for her punishment, knowing very well there is something coming up with his angry demeanour.

Taehyung walks in the kitchen which is across the entrance, immediately reaching for a bottle of beer and snaps it open before pressing it against his lips and gulping half the bottle while he glances at you.

you push your shoes to the side, entering the familiar place while making a momentary eye contact with him which makes things even more awkward between the two of you.

”You’re not gonna give me one!?” You chuckle lightly pointing at his fridge trying to ease the mood

“You already had enough drinks for your limit,” he says unimpressed as he takes another sip “5 shots of tequila, I wonder if that’s why you were sucking dick in the bathroom.”

“Taehyung-“ you wince with furrowed eyebrows, suddenly feeling defensive about his statement

”anyways,” he shrugs it off, glancing away as he mutters “I already said what I want, it’s up to you.” He declares as he stares back at you with waiting eyes

“What-“ you part your lips but then gasp, mouth wide open at the realization “Were you serious!?”

“You dont have to do it,” he quickly replies in a rushed tone, raising his shoulder in a quick shrug “I never did it for something in return anyway.”

You hesitate, waiting for him to break that serious expression he’s wearing on his face any second and tell you its all a joke. But he doesn’t, instead, he just takes another big gulp of his bottle of beer, his Adam’s apple moving between the toned muscles of his neck.

”If you’re still on your words, get in my room and think of your safe word,” he instructs simply as if it’s not weird at all “If not, I’ll drop you off at your place.”

You stare at him in a daze, trying to digest his words. He just suggested you go wait in his room like those girls he bones every other night. The image has you clenching your thighs together. You wanna believe you’re weirded out and you wanna walk out. But in reality, you really wanna walk down his hallway and get on your knees to be one of those girls shamelessly.

”Let’s go,” he says as he places the bottle of beer on the kitchen top “I’ll drop you ho-“

”I’ll do it,” you quickly interrupt, retracting your arm from his reach “I wanna pay you back and if this is your preferred method, fine! I’ll do it.” You say determinedly

”you dont have to,” he says looking directly into your eyes, stepping closer across your body

”I want to.” You repeat firmly, looking back at his eyes that suddenly turn darker in lust

”Fine,” he nods, hesitation still evident in his quivering pupils as they travel between your two eyes “Go wait in the room,” he hesitates as he glances down at your body “naked!”

Your breath hitches at the request, eyes unconsciously widening at his words.

“Alright,” You nod, standing there, still on your spot as if you’re still trying to think this plan through “Alright!” You nod again before turning on your heels and walking down the hallway to his room.

There is an odd feeling at the pit of your stomach when you step in the room, the sheet messily curled on the bed reminding you of the other night you were here. the night you watched Taehyung fuck that girl so intensely, it left you high and dry craving for some.

The realization finally hits you, now it’s you, you’re another one of those girls who you always used to mock over the years. sure, Taehyung was always an attractive young man, but you never understood why girls loved to be in his bed just as a playtoy for a night between his thighs.

“I thought I gave you an order!”

you turn around facing the guy, a shiver running down your spine the moment you hear his deep husky voice echoing in the four walls of the room.

“It’s not late,” he explains softly, no trace of anger or authority evident in his voice “If you regret it, step out and leave the apartment. I’ll be out in the lobby in five.”

“Why are you so insistent on me leaving?” You raise an eyebrow as your hands trace down to the hem of your dress “Do you regret asking me?” you step closer to him daring “Do you not want this with me?”

“No,” he snaps, his eyebrows furrowing closer together at the daring question “I dont regret a single thing. I just want you to know you have a choice.”

“And I said I’m fine,” you persist as you roll up your tight dress onto your waist and up to your chest, the fabric creating some friction with the curves of your chest before driving up onto your neck.

You throw the piece of dress aside, gulping nervously as you watch Taehyung’s eyes fixed on yours. You are slightly surprised that he almost resists to look down on your body.

“Am I gonna be the only one naked here?” you ask raising an eyebrow, trying to fight for dominance in the conversation despite your crumbling confidence due to your exposed body.

“No,” He says as his eyes falter away, hand reaching to loosen his tie that is perfectly hugging his neck “We have things to discuss before that.”

“What?” you voice out almost annoyed and impatient

“Safeword,” he replies bringing his eyes back, and for the first time you see his gaze scanning over your cleavage before shooting back to your face “Choose one.”

“Caramel!” you immediately reply, biting your lips as he squints his eyes on your quick response. Shit, you shut your eyes closed before quickly opening them.

“Okay,” he breaths out nodding his head as he steps closer to you “you know the game, if you wanna stop anytime, you say the word.”

“What if I can’t speak?” you muse looking at him with curious eyes

His eyes grow darker in shade, examining your face for more hint on the meaning behind your words. He exhales softly, the combined smell of his cologne and alcohol hitting your nose.

“So you already know what I’m gonna do with you?” he asks watching you closely as he dips his hands in the side pockets of his suit

“I got an idea,” you reply nonchalantly “"I’ll have what he had”, wasn’t that your request?“

You watch his face hardening at the mention of the earlier memories, the line in his jaw protrudes, indicating the pressure he’s exerting with his jaw on the bottom row of his teeth.

"two taps and I’ll know,” he says sternly as he points on the floor with his chin “down on your knees.”

The words are enough for your knees to give in. You slowly drop on your knee, maintaining eye contact with him as you do so. You reach forward for the button of his pants but he slaps it off.

“Hands off,” he shakes his head, looking down on you with unimpressed eyes “Hands behind your back.”

You gulp, lips slightly pursing into a pout before bringing your hands behind your back and clasping them together.

“Since you’re so good at giving heads, why dont you try with your mouth only?” He smirks at you “your skilled little mouth should be able to do that much.”

You blink up at him before drifting closer and tugging on his unbuttoned pants with your teeth. a sense of pride rushes through your veins as you feel his abdominal muscles clenching and unclench under your touch, he is affected by you and you barely touched him and that is enough to rush a considerable amount of arousal between your thighs.

You struggle to lower the fabric of his suit pants down, and after a few attempts whine quietly before bringing your eyes up to him.

“You seemed like you’re pretty good with your mouth when you were deep throating Jungkook,” He tilts his head to the side looking at you with haughty eyes as his fingers trace down to his pants “You need a hand?”

You nod frantically, impatient to have his clothed bulge exposed against your eyes and he senses your longing gaze on his hand.

“Why dont you beg for it?” He asks and your eyes widen, head flicking up to his face to see if he’s serious

“Kim Tae-”

“Daddy,” he bites the corner of his lips with anticipation “That’s what you’re gonna call me.”

You hesitate, eyes trembling on his stern expression, waiting any seconds for him to break out of character and tell you otherwise. But he remains unfazed as if he has planned all of this way before and is in no intention to change his mind.

“Remember Y/N, we’re playing by my rules but,” he mutters, his hand cupping your chin to bring back your head up to face him “You can say the word and we’ll stop-”

“Daddy,” you voice out, head tilted back and chin pointing at his face “Please, help me undress you,” you begin a seductive word and smile in victory as you see the guy’s eyes darken in lust

“You know how to beg,” he smirks, affectionately stroking your cheek “Such a good little whore, I guess I should give you a hand now that you asked so nicely.”

His other hand then travels down to unbutton his pants, before zipping it down and tucking the fabric lower on his thighs. You swoon over the toned thighs that come into your view, all those times you’d see him after his gym sessions with his toned thighs covered with sweats or shorts flashing through your mind.

Your eyes then freeze at the sight of his Calvin Klein brief that hugged his groin firmly, the bulge tightly pressing against the material and begging to be freed from its cage.

You lick your lips, imagining the monster you’ve seen before popping out in a few seconds, core trembling in excitement and urging you to drift closer to him.

“Mhmm,” he hums, hand tracing back from your cheek to the back of your head “Keen aren’t we baby?” he winks at your heated expression, pulling you with your head forward, “I think you can do the rest on your own babe, show me what that mouth can do.”

You keep your eyes fixed on him for a few seconds, taking up the challenge before leaning in and grazing your lips against his lower abdomen, where the hem of his brief is sitting.

You smirk hearing his groan in the background, knowing the touch of your lips on his skin is already affecting him giving you a sense of pride. You then hook your teeth on the hem of his brief and slowly yank the fabric down, against the resistance of the elastic band around his waist.

Taehyung watches you attentively, breath caging in his chest at the sight of your lips so close to his manhood as you pull his brief lower on his thighs, his eager and throbbing cock springing out against your cheek.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he watches you finishing up your task of undressing him “When did you learn to be so good with your mouth?”

You tilt your head back, leaning in to graze your tongue on his angry red tip before muttering “I haven’t even started it, Daddy” you tease with a smirk

“You’re a fucking Cocktease,” he groans, head falling back as your lips resume their sinful action on his tip “OH FUCK!”

You smile in satisfaction at his cry of pleasure, taking half of his length in your mouth before pulling it all the way out and fondling his shaft with your tongue.

Taehyung’s expression contours in pain and frustration, wanting to slam his dick at the back of your throat any seconds but he stops his urges by firmly pulling on the strands of your hair.

“Why?” he asks, eyes glazing over you carefully “You dont think you can take it?”

“I can,” you raise an eyebrow, cupping his balls between your lips to attain a groan ripping from his throat “I’ve had big things in my mouth before”

“So you really wanna be a cocktease huh?” He squints his eyes at you remembering how you were on your knees with Jungkook’s cock in your mouth a few hours ago “You seemed in more of a rush with that bastard Jeon Jungkook,” he then smirks darkly as he mutters “Or was he too disappointing that you wanted to finish him up soon?”

Your eyes lighten with excitement at the mention of the other guys, lips still continuing to play with his balls and watch his abs clench with your action.

“Not really,” you lick your lips, eyes wandering around as you mutter “He was actually quite impressive for his own,” you gulp as you feel his hand tighten in your hair to tilt your head up but you remain unaffected as you continue “It was more of a quickie before we get to his place, that was if-” your voice trails off to look up at him “thing went as planned.”

You can see a strange tint of anger in his smirk that persistently stays on his lips, it’s quite similar to the rage he presented the other night at the club when he slammed you against that wall.

The difference is it no longer scares you or concerns you, but it only gives you a bit of excitement. The possibility that the high and mighty Kim Tae who never bats an eye on any girl would be pressed about you and another man shoots arousal right into your core.

And even if the thought of your best friend being possessive over you might have been more of a joke till a few hours ago, it was now making you all hot and bothered in all the right places.

“Now that the plans have changed,” he mutters darkly “You might as well go ahead and enjoy it, babe.”

He then grasps your head by the anchor of hair and pulls you towards his waiting cock and you compliantly part your lips, enveloping the warm muscles around his breadth.

“Fuck YES!” he groans, head falling back from the immense pleasure as you take him in, his cock twitching against your tongue as you lean closer and closer on his shaft

You whimper, the vibration making his knees weak as you realize his tip is already stimulating your gag reflex, hitting the back of your throat, but you’re only two third of your way on his cock.

His hooded eyes travel down to you, realizing you’ve stopped “You’ve had big things in your mouth but not this big,” a cocky smirk plasters on the corner of his lips again “You can’t take it all in can you?”

You cough as he snaps his hip forward, your throat closing down on his tip as tears well up in your eyes.

“You dont need to act tough babe,” he smirks watching your perseverance in taking him further down your throat “You know you’re not the first one to fail to take me-Aaahh FUCK!”

His sentence is left unfinished as you ease your throat around him and take him further in, his hand pressing against the back of your head while you push yourself against his pelvis.

Your nose digs into his lower abdominal muscles that clench and unclench under against your touch while your gag reflex continues to try and resist your attempt to keep him in.

“FUCK,” He cries, knees buckling and almost giving in as the sensation of his length completely enveloped by your mouth sends him to cloud nine “You take me so fucking well, God!” he says out of breath and you moan with him deep in your mouth, sending more pleasure shooting in his vein

“I wanna fuck your mouth so bad,” he groans bringing his pleading eyes to you “I wanna slam my cock in your throat so fucking much babe.”

You hesitate, eyes fluttering close and open, considering his proposition before hollowing your cheek and moving your tongue against his shaft to urge him.

“Fuck,” he exhales in disbelief “You want it, dont you?”

You nod, hand reaching at the back of his hips, to press him against your mouth before bobbing your head back and forth on his length.

“You’re such a cockslut,” he mutters in adoration, gripping your head to keep you still “I’m gonna fuck your mouth as you love it, babe.”

You stare at him with anticipating eyes, his firm holds on your head stopping you from bobbing your head on his cock as you planned. He then snaps his hip forward in a sudden movement and starts fucking your mouth in an erratic speed.

You remain still, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin and your gag reflex kicking in every few thrusts echoing in your ears in the background while the sight of the man groaning and moaning to the intense sensation of your mouth around him arousing you more and more.

Your hand travel down to your exposed core, finding the sensitive bundle of nerve that is throbbing to receive any stimulation possible and flick your finger on your clit.

The motion sends shivers down your spine and you moan against his cock, the vibrations attaining a painful groan from the guy who’s about to come undone in your mouth.

His eyes flick back onto you suspiciously and find your hand toying with your clit but the scene is not all too pleasant to his eyes. His eyes darken and he holds himself still in your mouth on the next thrust before harshly pulling back from you.

You stare up at him in surprise, gasping heavily for the air you were denied because of his enormous length in your throat when you meet his angry gaze on you.

“I thought I gave you an order,” he tilts his head to the side, watching your through hooded eyes “you’re not really good at obeying are you?”

Your hand cease their action on your clit and immediately retract back to their original place beside the other hand at your back but the action doesn’t go unnoticed from his attentive eyes on you.

“I-I J…Just-”

“Sssh,” he stops your attempt to justify your action as he wraps his hands around your neck, gently lacing around your throat without exerting any pressure “You disobeyed me and wanted to be a sneaky little whore huh?”

Your eyes tremble as you consider your options out of this situation, licking your lips carefully before leaning to take his cock back in your mouth but he’s quicker to realize your intentions to distract him.

“Tsh Tsh,” he scolds, fingers pressing against your windpipe and yanking you up on your feet “and you continue to be a naughty cockslut huh?”

his other hand travels down to your core, where your fingers were toying a few minutes ago. His fingertips touch the silky rope of arousal that covers your core and he groans.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he whispers as if he’s talking to himself, expression softening for a moment before his dominating aura takes over his expression again “Are you that thirsty for some touch babe?” he says seductively as he grips you by the neck and toys with your clit in a slow manner

“Nghh,” you whimper, moving your hip to make more contact with his touch “Yesss there!”

His eyes lighten, loving the way you move in his control so he proceeds to stretch the lips of your pussy apart and thrust one finger in to retain a cry of pleasure from your lips.

“I guess Jungkook only cared about his own pleasure and left you needy huh?”

“Tae-”

“Yes,” he nods, yanking your head closer against himself and pressing his forehead against yours “Call my name.”

“Tae, please,” you beg, every nerve fibre in your body screaming for his attention

“Please what?” he asks, eyes glazing with anticipation for the next words to fall out of your lips

“I need more,” you roll your hip shamelessly on his finger, “please Tae, please fuck me.”

He smirks, lips curving into a crooked smile as he realizes he has you wrapped around his fingers “This was never about you babe, It was about my payback for being your muse and I haven’t even cum-”

“I know,” you hiss in frustration looking up at him “You can cum then,” you urge nodding your head “fuck me and you can cum in me.”

his pupils dilate at your lewd words, expression then immediately hardening as he presses his fingers tighter around your throat “Was that your plan with Jungkook?” he raises an eyebrow, tone almost sounding like he’s hurt “Were you gonna let him fuck his cum in you like you’re begging me now?”

you look back at him with guilty eyes, gaze wavering as you flashback to the memories of you and Jungkook in the bathroom cubicle. If it wasn’t for your friend’s unannounced presence, you probably would have got in the car with Jungkook and followed him to his place.

“You naughty little girl,” he murmurs, in a mixture of rage and teasing tone as he adds another finger inside you, starting to pace the way he finger fucks you while casually having a conversation with you “You had dirty plans in your mind didn’t you?” his hand then release your neck and travels down to give you a spank on your ass “answer me, babe.”

“Yes Daddy,” you nod, looking at him with needy eyes “I’ve been a bad girl, I’m sorry.” you fake a pout, using your last weapon to melt his walls down and to your surprise, it works on him.

“you know what happens to bad girls Y/N?” he asks, eyes curving into a teasing smirk, following your little act up with his own “do you wanna have a guess?”

“I d-dont know,” you reply simply, batting your lids innocently in response

“bad girls get punished by their Daddies,” he murmurs and he digs his knuckles in your pussy, hitting your sweet spot as a sloppy moan falls from your lips “what should I do with you, babe?”

you just moan in response, the intense pleasure from the way he cuts air to your throat and the fingers pressing against your g-spot making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck, No Tae,” you whimper as he stops his action in your pussy and takes away his fingers immediately, the cum coated fingers travelling up to his lips as he tastes your juices casually against your needy eyes “Please, Tae dont stop.”

“Answer my question first,” he slips his finger out of his lips with a pop, eyes staying stern and hollow “What should I do with a cock tease like you?”

“Punish me, Daddy,” you murmur seductively, needy eyes piercing into his orbs as you whisper “Have your way with me the way you want.”

He inhales sharply, eyes lighting with a new rush of excitement as he eyes you carefully “Are you sure Y/N?” he furrows his eyebrows attentively “Are you sure you want this?”

“I’m sure,” you nod determined before smirking against his cheek “I’ve been very bad Daddy,” you whisper to ignite the fire in him “Why dont you teach your little whore a good lesson?”

“dont worry,” You feel his cock twitching against your thighs, a growl buzzing in his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist “I’ll teach you in a way you’ll never forget babe.”

“Get on your hands and knees,” he demands, keeping his eyes fixed on you carefully

You look at him for a few moments before turning around and settling into his requested position, keeping the weight of your body on your elbows and knees.

“Ass up for me,” he orders, hands gripping your ass and guiding it up against his body “I’m gonna give you 10 spanks as your punishment babe, if you take them well you’ll be rewarded after.”

You remain silent, considering the weight of his words when his hand grazes over your ass cheeks.

“I need to know if you’re fine with this Y/N,” he murmurs carefully, tone suddenly much lower and serious before blending into his act again “Do you want Daddy to punish you?”

“Y-Yes Daddy,” your voice trembles and he gives you hum of approval

*Smack*

The first impact comes to your flesh abruptly and your body stumbles forward on the mattress while a muffled moan rips through your lips. The delicious sting spreads over your ass cheek and you can feel the arousal dripping down the side of your inner thighs from pleasure.

“Do you know why you need this punishment?”

“Yes Daddy, I was a bad girl-Aaah*

*Smack*

"Right,” he mutters in approval “Bad girls need to be punished to learn their lesson. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

*Smack*

“Will be acting like a thirsty whore again, babe?”

“Never Dadd-Aaah!”

*Smack*

“Good, remember the pain next time you wanna get on your knees for another man’s cock like the filthy slut baby.”

“I will Daddy,” you whisper uncertain, the slight genuinity in his voice making you question whether all this is just an act or he is saying all those things seriously

*smack*

You whine as the pain starts to spreads in your body, your core dripping from the pleasurable sensation shooting in your nerves.

You would have never expected such ruthless treatment would turn you on but somehow being the receiving end of Taehyung’s seemingly cruel punishment was turning you on far more than you could ever imagine.

“Can you take more Babe?” he murmurs, hand gently touching the red marks spread on your bottom “you don’t have to-”

“No,” you voice out, sticking your ass up towards him “I can take it, Daddy, give me more please.”

He gulps, as his nervous hand raises up to come back down on your ass but he stops midway and instead leans in to spread gentle kisses on the red flesh of your ass cheek.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me babe,” he breathes out, plastering butterfly kisses on the abused flesh “So good for your Daddy.”

You jolt in surprise, feeling the gentle touch of his lips on your ass making you whimper from the soothing sensation. His lips then trace back to your core, parting your ass cheeks, the cold air making you shiver.

He plasters some gentle kisses on your inner thigh. He observes the dripping lips of your pussy, throbbing and red, inviting him to sink his cock between them.

“You were so good for me babe,” he murmurs as his fingers spread your pussy and stretch you ready for him, “I think It's time Daddy rewards you, babe.”

“Yessss,” your voice trails off weakly as your anticipation for your high finally seems to come to an end “Please Daddy, Please.”

He positions himself against your body and lines himself over your dripping cunt. Spreading your lips with two fingers, he palms himself before sliding it over your dripping entrance teasingly.

“Nghh, Daddy please,” you beg, losing your mind as your walls clench around air “please fuck me.”

“You want Daddy’s cock in your cute little pussy?” He teases with a smirk, enjoying the way your body moves in his accord

“Yes, Daddy Ye-AAAHH” you cry as he sinks his pulsing member deep inside your walls and your body trembles as he slowly moves his way in.

“Just like that baby,” he coos watching his length disappear inside you “I knew you’d take me well.”

“Taehyung,” you call out, hand reaching back with your hand to hold his thighs desperately “Fuck …. give me- give me a second …”

He immediately ceases his movement as he realizes you’re having difficulty with his size, your walls squeezing his cock tightly testing his self-control. He leans closer, careful to not push his length any further as he comes down in level with your ear and whispers

“We can stop if its too much babe,” he murmurs the reassuring words as he tucks your hair to the side carefully as he observes your painful expression

“No,” you shake your head, the sensation of your walls slowly accommodating to him setting your pleasure off to another delicious start “Just a moment, just-” you sharply inhale as he shifts slightly away “No, Tae, Please …” you turn around facing him as your hand comes to hold his chin against your shoulder “I can take it, Please.” You beg desperately

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He murmurs, words tinted by concern

“I know,” you flash a grimacing smile to him, hoping it would convince him “You can move now.”

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, nose digging deep in your neck as he murmurs ever so gently “I can always make you cum with my fingers-”

“No,” you groan in frustration as you move your hip back to him “Fuck me, please Tae, Fuck me!” you demand helplessly

“Alright,” he grunts, voice strained as he tries his best to control his urges to fuck senselessly into you “I’m gonna move now.”

He thrusts his hip forwards slowly, each movement of his hip parting your pussy further apart as your walls slowly adjust to his ginormous girth.

“F-Faster,” you breath out, hip bucking back to his thrusts “Faster Tae.”

“As you wish babe,” he fastens his pace, hip snapping against your walls in an insane pace, hitting every sweet spot in your walls.

“Yes, Yes,” you cry as you dig your head in the mattress, the muffled word echoing in the air “Right there!”

“You like it, babe?” He asks as your pleas flutter his ego, hand reaching forward to toy with your clit “You like me pounding your tight little cunt?”

“YES,” you cry, the bundle of nerves being toyed, shooting pleasure all around your veins “Its so fucking good,”

“You wanna cum on my cock?” he asks as he leans closer and presses his lips against your ear “You wanna cream Daddy’s cock babe?”

“YES YES,” you nod frantically “Please let me cum Tae!”

“Cum on my cock,” he urges, fingers flicking your clit at the same pace as his thrust in your pussy “Cum all over and make a mess babe.”

You scream your orgasm out as the pleasure takes over you, body withering and shaking with waves of pleasure under him. Your sensitive core burns with overstimulation as he continues to fuck through your orgasm, his thrust becoming sloppy and messier by each second.

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns as he presses your hip against his body “I’m gonna fill your tight cunt with my seeds.”

“YES,” you nod in approval, moving your hip to facilitate his thrust despite the burning sensitivity between your legs “Cum inside me Tae, fill my pussy please.”

He suddenly ceases his movement, drawing a whimper from your lips as he retracts his body and falls back sitting on the bed “I can’t,” he breathes out in a vulnerable tone.

You immediately turn your body around with bewildered expression covering your face “What’s wrong Tae?” You ask him in a dazed tone, not bearing with the immense craving to be filled by him

“I can’t Y/N,” he shakes his head, avoiding your eyes “I can’t do it,” he gulps nervously as he shifts away from you as if he is scared of touching your body again “I can’t continue this.”

“This was your idea,” you snap back, brushing your hair away from your face “You can’t just chicken out now. This was all about you getting your payback, for you to cum.”

“I’m s-sorry,” he hesitates as he grabs a blanket and wraps it around your body to cover your quickly, “I think I’m too drunk- No, I was too drunk when we came here-”

“Is it my body?” You ask in a quiet tone, voice weaker with embarrassment “Do I turn you off?”

His widened eyes travel to you, not believing your interpretation of his actions “What are you talking about?”

“I knew it,” you nod as you quickly cover your body with the blanket he wrapped you with “After all, you’re Kim Taehyung, you wouldn’t cum if your girl is not a Victoria’s Secret models.” you chuckle trying to mask your embarrassment

“You need to stop your bullshit,” he yells back as he raises on his knees in rage “it has nothing to do with that.”

“Then what is wrong with you?” You demand, leaning closer to him “Why do you play this game of push and pull Tae?” You ask, with furrowed eyebrows, anger taking over your words “why did you stop me from fucking Jungkook, only to bring me and make me fall on knees for you to just say you can’t cum with me here.”

“Stop fucking talk about him,” he yells back furiously as he cards his hair back from his face “I didn’t plan for things to turn this way. And I- ’m sorry if I messed up your plans with Jungkook.” he continues with venom in his words, as if he doesn’t really mean what he’s saying.

“Tae-”

You watch him with trembling gaze as he starts to build the walls between you, although the physical distance between your bodies is quite short.

“It was a mistake,” he declares looking at you sternly “I can’t just fuck you and pretend to be your best friend tomorrow,” he hesitates before looking away and forcing the words out “I’m gonna sleep in the guest room, you sleep here.”

You then watch as he gathers a few pieces of clothing before exiting the room you’re in, leaving you all alone with your thoughts there.

You wake up to a throbbing headache pounding on your temple, squirming on the bed sheet to sniff the familiar scent of Taehyung’s Giorgio Armani cologne you bought for his birthday.

You sigh as the memories of the night before flashes through your eyes, remembering how you fell asleep thinking of the guy abrupt leave after your scandalous time together. Somehow you wish that his warm embrace was what you woke up to instead of the scent of his cologne.

You scoot over the bed, tiptoeing your way to his drawer to grab an extra large shirt that can cover your body for now before leaving the room to find him.

You footsteps cease as you hear his deep voice reaching you from the living room, conversing with someone and from the lack of response you can tell he’s on the phone.

“Hyung, I understand,” he snaps in anger, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible “but you need to talk to dad about this, I’m really not sure if this will work,”

You drift closer, hating yourself for eavesdropping when he speaks up again

“I know who she is,” He suddenly grunts “Jung Seri, the daughter of JH Group, I’ve seen her in last year’s-”

You’re so focused on hearing his words that you dont realize the increase in the clarity as the voice gets closer to you until you see Taehyung standing at the door, staring at you with surprised eyes.

“Hyung,” he heaves, observing you carefully “I need to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

You stay still, gulping nervously as he disconnects the call and examines the situation for a few seconds before abruptly questioning “How long have you been listening?”

“N-Not long,” you quickly shake your head defensively “I’m sorry, I was gonna say I’m here-”

“What did you hear?” He interrupts anxiously

“Jung Seri,” you pronounce the name, trying your best to hide the slight jealousy that may drip out from your tone “The daughter of JH Group,” you bat your eyelids slowly as you mutter “Is she the girl you’re marrying?”

“I guess,” He shrugs, gaze trembling away from you

“Oh,” you breath out, stomach sinking at his simple response as you lose all the words you prepared earlier “Okay.”

“My dad wants me to!” he adds as he brings his gaze to you and observes your expression carefully

“I heard about their company,” you nod, blinking rapidly to fight the tears “they’re pretty rich.”

“Y-Yeah,” he nods, shoulders slumping down upon your words “They’re an affiliate of our company.”

“Your dad must like her a lot then,” your voice sounds far more bitter than you intend and Taehyung doesn’t fail to notice it

“he doesn’t care,” he responds uninterested “He just wants me to settle down and have kids,” he hesitates before continuing, “he says he’s getting old and he wants grandchildren before he dies and since I’m not contributing to the company I should at least make babies.”

Your heart suddenly drops at the thought of Taehyung having babies, imagining mini versions of him running around the house tugging at the strings of your heart knowing another girl would be sharing that happiness with him.

You suddenly feel a rush of anger through your body, the situation seeming unfair on your end. You were fine with being his best friend, with having only a platonic relationship with him for years.

But he had to go out of his way to change the way you perceive him, tangling you in this complicated tug of war between your feelings only to be declaring another girl will have his babies.

The complicated rush of emotions all surge through you and you find yourself blurting out the words carelessly.

“Then what about me?”

“W-What?”

“Why did you do all those things with me?” You ask defeated, fist clenching by your side “Why did you have to bring me over and fuck me over your sheets?”

“B-Because … I just thought- I mean, It was about the payback …” he explains nervously

“What does that make me then?” You snap back, tears threatening to roll down your cheek “I was your best friend, but after all of this I dont even know where I stand in this relationship …” you inhale sharply as your gaze wanders on his dazed expression before asking “Or you want me to be your side chick?”

“WHAT?” He asks bewildered by your sudden accusation

“Is that what this is about?” You ask as the sudden realization hits “You want to marry her, but you kind- kinda want to have me as your side chick, like friends with benefit-Aaah”

He cuts your sentence short as he grips your arms and presses you against the wall, his eyes tingling with rage and fiery.

“That’s all you see isn’t it?” He asks through gritted teeth “You look at me, and all you ever fucking see is a boy trying to play with girls…” he sighs "a fuckboy, isn’t it?“

"Can you blame me?” You ask, your eyes glazing with fresh tears “You ignore me for days, making me worried sick about you only for me to find you cumming deep in a girl’s throat in your VIP room,”

You press your hands against his chest, trying to create some distance “Then you fuck me on your bed, bringing me onto my knees only to tell me you’re marrying another girl in the morning who you’re probably going to fuck on the same sheets.”

“What do you want me to do?” He yells back furiously “My dad wants me to get married and the only girl I ever imagined a future with is dating someone else … So I’m trying to take it like a man and move on so I at least dont lose her friendship, ” he goes silent for a second before staring directly into your eyes “Can’t you fucking see I’m trying?”

You furrow your eyebrows, still trying to make sense of his words when he shoots the next question

“Are you serious about Jungkook?” He interrupts you as he looks at you with a serious expression, “Jeon Jungkook, I’m asking do you fucking like him?”

“W-What?” you furrow your eyebrows “Why is he coming into this-”

“Answer my question, how far did you guys go?” He asks “Do you like him?”

“No,” you simply shake your head, the train of questions he’s bombarding you with not allowing anything but raw truth seeping out your words

“Did you fuck him?” He asks before quickly adding “Other than the bathroom incident, how far did you go with him?” he asks again, face frowning at the mention of the infamous incidence

“Nothing,” you quickly stop him “We- It was just that-”

“Alright,” he nods, reassured by your responses “So I can still call dibs on you.”

“Call dibs on me?” You chuckle awkwardly at his choice of words not believing him “What am I? a candy?”

“ I like you Y/N,” he shots back in rage, eyes observing your lost expression.

Your reaction is exactly as he expected, eyebrows furrowing closer before your eyes widen in shock.

“Tae … W-What-”

“Right,” he nods panting heavy in anger “I like you so fucking much I couldn’t see you sucking that bastard’s dick, So I brought you back home to suck mine,” he scoffs at the irony of his words “I was jealous like a five years old, that’s why I need to know if you regret following me here and if you’re serious about him.”

“Tae,” you call for him, thoughts rushing to your brain at an insane speed “Y-You, seriously, You …”

Your voice trails off as you try to digest the words that come one after another, your attempts fail completely as your brain shots back a big error to you. Your thoughts are blank as you try and process the guy’s devastated look along with his previous words.

“I can’t even cum without imagining your face,” he exhales bringing his eyes to you “I’m fucking the "Victoria’s secret models”,“ he quotes you with a bitter tone "But all I can ever think about is you and your God damn face.”

“How long-” you ask with a dazed tone “Since when-”

“I dont even remember when it started,” he replies, head falling low as he tries to think “I believe it started when we started going to rehab,” he mutters eyes wandering as he reminisces the memories “I used to lay in bed, sore all over from my cravings for those pills and all I could ever think of was your face.”

You look at him, listening attentively to his words as you remember the days you used to go to his rehab sessions together. Back then he decided to quit his addictions to the recreational drugs he used to take with his rich friends and you promised to help him go through the process.

You never truly realized how deep he was attached to those pills and how much you neglected him until you followed him to his therapy sessions, watching him scream and tremble from his cravings for the drugs that gave him his highs before.

Deep inside you felt guilty for being so careless about what he did or who he hung out with while you were working your ass off to get recruited in a prestigious company.

So you made sure you’d be with him every step of his heart-wrenching battle with the addiction, ensuring you don’t regret neglecting your best friend ever again.

“It’s not my fault,” he snaps defensively as he presses your body against the wall “You were always there at my weakest,” He breathes out as he watches you carefully “I just wanted to close my eyes and die and you were on my bed forcing me to eat and drink into another day.”

“I-I’m …” you start, stumbling through the words “I didn’t know!”

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffs with a bitter smile “I worked so fucking hard to hide it, sleeping with every God damn girl in this town to hide the fact that I want to bone my best friend every time she hugs me innocently like a friend.”

You sigh imagining how hard you were making it for him all these years, without even realising you might be torturing the guy with your overly affectionate behaviour, barging into his life and his personal space almost all the time.

“I’m sorry Ta-”

“Cut it,” he hisses eyes closing close “That’s exactly why I worked so hard, I dont wanna fucking hear you pity me for my feelings,” he clenches his jaw “I shouldn’t have started this, my jealousy about you and Jungkook got the best of me and I thought with my dick for a moment, I’m sorry-”

“No,” you quickly shake your head “I dont regret a thing about last night Tae. We both made a decision and we did it knowing fully what the consequences could be.”

He goes silent for a few seconds eyes lowering as his grip on your arms loosen and he stands passively against your body.

“Are you serious about what you said?” you ask with a defeated tone, letting emotions take control of your words “about having a future with me?”

He brings his wavering eyes to you, lips parting “All I ever wanted was to be with you Y/N,” he whispers “No matter how many girls came and left my life, It was always you.”

“Then let’s make babies,“ you blurt out, the words slipping your tongue before you even chew them properly

"You- You seriously …” his eyes widen in surprise “What?”

“I wanna be with you Tae,” you drift closer to him "and if this what it takes for your Dad to accept me, I will have your babies,” you then hesitate before biting the corner of your lips shyly and adding “even if he doesn’t, I’ll probably still have your babies.”

“Y/N,” he breaths out in disbelief “You want to be with me?” He asks, eyes about to pop out of socket from your sudden suggestion “Me?”

“Yes,” you nod determined “I dont think I have the confidence to let you go Tae,” you admit, heart trembling at the thought “I dont think I can trust any other woman to take care of you either. That day when your brother said you’ll be getting married, I felt like a piece of my heart was ripped right out of my chest. The only reason I said those horrible things was because I was lost and confused and didn't know how to deal with my feelings.”

His expression softens to a sweet smile, eyes glittering with joy for a few seconds before his mischievous aura takes over his features again. He leans closer to your ear with a smirk as he whispers

“You want to have babies huh?” he murmurs making your cheeks heat up from the suggestive words “and I thought your daddy kink was a surprise, Who would have known my baby has an impregnation kink?”

He then grabs your thighs firmly, picking you off the floor, legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he settles you on the wall “Since you asked so nicely,” he smirks as he hoists his hands around your torso “Daddy will give you babies.” He whispers before crashing his lips on yours.

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mithrilwren · 5 years ago

Text

3 Turn

Another installment in the Shadowgast Figure Skating AU, inspired by the incredible art of @fiovske! You don’t technically have to read the first piece in the series to understand this one - they more or less stand on their own - but if you’re going to read both, I’d recommend doing so in order. [Also on Ao3] [Find the whole series of one-shots in this AU here!]

---

3 turn: a figure skating element which involves a change in direction and edge. The direction of the turn follows the way the edge rotates and curves, either from an inside edge to an outside edge, or an outside edge to an inside edge.

---

1. Forward.

There’s a new skater on the ice tonight.

It’s a rare occurrence, to see an unfamiliar face in competition. Essek has grown accustomed to seeing the same lineup of competitors at every event. The particular selection of faces may change with the location, but the roster is generally static; there are only a select few whose skills are high enough to qualify at this level.

Still, the whirling blur of motion in Essek’s periphery wears a colour palette he’s not familiar with, and as his coach guides him through last-minute stretches at the sideboards, he watches the figure out of the corner of his eye. Not paying full attention, of course - his turn is next in the order, and there are many elements to review in his mind before he steps out onto the ice himself - but he does catch a few details: a grey and black suit, a flash of red hair, the sound of a skate coming down hard.

Too hard, and the subsequent gasps of the crowd tell him a jump has been fumbled, if not outright failed.

Essek smirks - not unkindly, necessarily, but with the satisfaction of renewed confidence. Whoever this new blood is, he’s clearly knocked himself out of the running. Not a challenger, then, and thus, not worthy of any more of Essek’s attention.

As the music fades to a close, he lets his breath go in one low beat. He’s ready. He’s relaxed. This will be a good performance.

Essek barely pays the new competitor any mind as they pass each other: him stepping into the rink, and the other man stepping out. There’s no delay between the two routines for flowers to be collected. Evidently, none were thrown. The man must truly be a newcomer - not many rise to this level of competition without accumulating at least a small base of supporters. But again, Essek reminds himself, this is all unimportant to the task at hand.

Essek floats out to the center of the ice and places one toe on its tip, hands curving up to frame his chin and cheek in an elegant tableau. The crowd is still, as breathless as his own body, as they wait for the first note.

Then the music starts, and Essek flies.

---

Once all the roses and little gifts are collected from the ice, Essek rejoins his coach in the kiss-and-cry. The red-headed competitor is already far from his mind as they wait together for his scores to be announced.

(The cutesy name of the simple, black-clothed bench, surrounded by a chorus of video cameras and fake flowers, is something of a derisive joke between the two of them; neither he nor Mirimm would ever be caught dead doing either in public.)

The only expression Essek allows himself as the numbers are read out is a small smile: first place standing, as expected. Mirimm’s reaction is equally subdued. She doesn’t congratulate him, not on what was already a forgone conclusion.

(And still, his heart eases as he hears the final tally, even though he knew that his performance tonight was without critique. There’s an unhelpful anxiety that accompanies every kiss-and-cry, so ingrained he can barely separate it from the brighter feeling of anticipation. He can’t seem to shake the lingering dread that one day the scores will be announced, and he will be found lacking, and the perilous peak on which he stands will crumble away.)

After returning to their seats, Essek watches the rest of the skaters from the audience with vague interest. He knows most of their routines by rote, along with their faces. The season is spent perfecting only two sets of choreography per person - one short program, one free skate - and he’s seen most of them performed already, whether televised or in competition. Still, the art of skating is beautiful in itself, and even familiar routines are a pleasant enough diversion as they all wait for the final scores, that will determine the skate order for the next day.

Finally, after the last skater has received their marks, the ranking is read out to the audience. Essek’s name is the first announced, of course. As the top-placed competitor, he will go last. That, too, was never in question.

The name ‘Caleb Widogast’, at a stalwart middle rank, crackles over the loudspeakers, and Essek starts. He cocks his head, trying to capture the remnants of the sound before the announcements continue. Something about that name… he’s sure he’s heard it before. Essek turns to Mirimm, leaning down to murmur in her ear.

“Why do I know the name ‘Widogast’?”

Mirimm - an elderly woman, with so many years of experience under her belt that not even her wizened face and hunched, almost goblinish appearance can diminish her reputation as one of the skating world’s premiere coaches - squints, her mouth set into a troubled frown. He’s not accustomed to seeing even that much emotion from her, and certainly not in public. Her answer takes far longer than it should for such a simple question.

“I suppose that would have been before your time, wouldn’t it?” Essek carefully suppresses a wince. Having achieved so much by such a young age might be a badge of honour for some, but he often tires of being so continuously reminded of it. He would rather be set apart by his skill, not his circumstances. “He was a prominent competitor in the juniors circuit, many years ago. ” Her voice grows more craggly as it dips low, softer, as though she’s talking to herself and not to him. “I didn’t realize he’d started skating again.”

“A hiatus? Was there a reason?” There are few explanations that are conceivable to Essek, why someone would choose to give up the sport, even temporarily. You don’t leave a life like this up - not at this level, not after so much work and pain and investment. Even he, even after-

Well. It’s not something you just abandon.

Again, Mirimm pauses before answering. “I don’t know the whole story, but… I believe he was under a lot of pressure.” The inflection on the word pressure doesn’t quite sit right with Essek, and his own frown deepens. “The Empire is very... rigid, with its athletes, as you well know.”

Essek’s mouth parts slightly. Then Widogast is a Dwendalian skater. Now that’s interesting. Stranger still, that no one would have informed him of the man in advance, but if even Mirimm didn’t know he was competing...

“That’s all you can tell me?”

“That’s all I’m telling you.” She fixes him with a hard look, and he sighs, knowing a final answer when he hears one. He’s learned not to question the hierarchy, over the years. As supportive as Mirimm is, and as high as he rises, there are still some things he’s not privileged enough to know. Being sponsored by the Dynasty itself comes with a laundry list of pros and cons, after all, and as much as he’s aware that his role in the conflict between nations is symbolic, it is not unimportant. The threads of political posturing between the Empire and the Dynasty are long-rooted and deeply meaningful, and appearances are more vital now than ever, in this time of perilous peace. He takes that responsibility as seriously as any aspect of his own career.

Still, his curiousity is peaked, and he barely hears the rest of the names in the order, too busy turning over one in particular in his mind.

---

There are also pros and cons in being the last onto the ice, Essek muses the next day, as he waits for his turn to arrive. On one hand, he’s stuck ruminating on his own upcoming performance for longer than any other skater. On the other, he finally has a chance to watch the other routines properly.

He waits with bated breath for the name ‘Caleb Widogast’ to be announced. From his seat near the front of the stands, he has a perfect view to suss out this mysterious competitor, and he intends to make good use of that advantage. Even if Mirimm refuses to share more, there’s a great deal he can learn from simple observation.

His catalogue begins the moment the man steps out onto the ice. There’s a certain awkwardness to Widogast’s movements, as the man drifts out to the center of the rink - a dipped head, and hunched shoulders, nothing at all like Essek’s regal posture. His eyes are nearly hidden beneath the long, wavy bangs that tumble out from his loose ponytail. It’s a curiously unpolished look: not strictly against regulations, but certainly not the finessed coif of a typical skater, especially not with hair of that length. Essek wonders if he does it himself, or if his stylist is simply unskilled. The messiness doesn’t seem intentional, rather, it almost looks like the ponytail began as a tighter pull-back, but wasn’t secured properly.

His outfit, at least, is neat, if slightly old-fashioned. The hard lines of black and grey are typical Dwendalian attire, and Essek thinks again of Mirimm’s words. Rigid. That is certainly a word to describe the suit. He can’t say that Widogast looks terribly comfortable in its constrictive folds and creases. That type of outfit requires a precision to pull off that his hair and his posture don’t match. Everything about the look is like two halves at war from within, and Essek wouldn’t be surprised if the man loses points on presentation before the music even starts.

In the quiet moments at center ice, Essek watches as Widogast breathes out, arms crossed in front of his chest. His shoulders come down, as though he’s forcibly told them to relax. Then the first note sounds, and Widogast takes off towards the rink’s edge in a burst of energy, launching into a routine that leaves Essek more confused with every bar.

The man is obviously quite technically proficient, but whatever rigidity he managed to force out of his shoulders, he clearly hasn’t shaken it from the rest of his body. His steps are intricate, but stiff, and though his movements smooth out into something more like a dancer’s elegance by the end of the first step sequence, Essek is keen now to the tension that shudders beneath. He isn’t surprised at all when Widogast’s first jump finishes a full rotation short of the intended triple lutz. Even if the set-up was executed well, it lacked confidence, and no jump approached with hesitation will ever succeed.

Still, the landing is clean, and though the rest of the routine is fairly unremarkable - full of the traditional upright forms and purposeful movements that he’s come to expect from the (admittedly, small) number of Empire skaters he’s competed against over the years - with each passing moment, Essek only finds himself more transfixed by the series of contradictions that make up ‘Caleb Widogast’.

Who is this man, who skates with all the skill of a champion and the confidence of a fifteen-year-old trainee?

Why is his outfit so strict, and his hair so wild?

Who would give up skating for long enough to fall out of memory, only to return as a shadow of their former glory?

Essek must know more.

He watches Widogast’s face as the song comes to a close, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reaction to the past few minutes. Is he pleased with the middling performance, or disappointed? But as soon as the music dies away, his head is already tucked back to his shoulder, and he hurries his way off the ice even before the polite smattering of applause finishes. No flowers again, and no whoops or cheers from the audience. Even the other Dwendalian entrant - Vadim, oft bronze-medalist, powerful jumps - offers no vocal support to his countryman. He sits a few aisles away from Essek, watching the routine just as intently as him, but without any hint of comradery hidden in his tight-lipped expression. If anything, his look is assessing, rather than familiar.

Stranger and stranger.

Essek’s eyes follow Widogast as he steps out of the rink and heads towards the kiss-and-cry. There’s no coach waiting there when he arrives. Widogast takes a seat by himself, and the next skater takes to the ice. The music starts again, and still, nobody joins him. Widogast picks up his coat from atop his bag and wraps it around his own shoulders, clutching the fabric to his chest as he waits for the scores to be read.

Essek’s heart unexpectedly pangs. He’s no stranger to being on his own - he prefers it, nearly always - but still… he never realized how lonesome that bench could look.

Essek prides himself on being able to predict any score within five points, and this time is no exception. Not a bad showing, per se, but nothing spectacular. Even with only half the scores tallied, the podium is already out of Widogast’s reach. Essek is too far away to judge his expression as the numbers are read from the loudspeakers, but his reaction is far from dramatic. The man sits quietly for a few moments more, then gathers his bag and returns to his seat, ignoring the handful of microphones shoved in his direction as he passes the press box. He doesn’t move from that seat, not for as long as it takes Mirimm to tap Essek on the shoulder and remind him that he should get downstairs and stretch for his own routine.

It only strikes him as odd a half-hour or so later, as he gets up off the cold concrete floor and returns the foam roller to its case, that Widogast’s seat wasn’t next to Vadim’s. If anyone else from the Dynasty was in attendance, they and Essek would have been seated together. A show of patriotic solidarity is never amiss, and the Empire tends to be even more strict than his own country in that regard. But he doesn’t have time to contemplate the question further, because Mirimm is already hurrying him along, back to the rink’s edge just in time for his routine to start.

The rest of the night passes in an accustomed blur - the flawless performance, the kiss-and-cry, the inevitable triumph. It seems barely more than a blink of the eye before Essek finds himself on the podium, listening to the last strains of the familiar anthem fade away. He receives his medal gracefully, dipping his head as the ribbon is placed around his neck, but when he looks up again, it’s to scan the crowd once more, looking for Widogast.

The search is fruitless; his eyes land on an empty seat, and no trace of where the man went. Perhaps he left once he knew the final results. Essek can’t help but be a little disappointed - he has always been insatiably inquisitive, and this Caleb Widogast is an enigma like no other - but it seems tonight is not the night he’ll satisfy that curiousity.

Essek exchanges civil handshakes with the other medalists and makes his way back towards the locker room to collect the remainder of his things, while the crowd begins to filter out of the arena.

Progress is slow, constantly impeded by eager fans looking for autographs or photos that his station - and the ever-present cameras - don’t allow him to refuse. Mirimm knows not to wait around, and by the time he manages to (politely) fight his way out of the stands, he finds himself in a mostly abandoned facility. The occasional conversation still wafts through the echoing concrete corridors below the rink, but most of the other skaters have left already. He’s pleased by the solitude, not least because his left leg is aching fiercely, and in an empty hallway, he can allow himself the slightest limp. He keeps his ears open for any hint of incoming footsteps, of course, but it’s an unexpected boon after a long day.

The locker room is empty as well. Still, Essek ducks into one of the shower stalls and turns the lock before unzipping his bag. He moves aside the foam roller’s case and reaches in, pulling out the brace that lies beneath. Essek holds it in his hands and leans back against the wall, considering.

The pain is worse tonight than usual, but this isn’t exactly a regional show. The reporters will be trained on him the moment he emerges into the lobby. Better not to risk it. Essek slips the brace back into the bag, wincing as he pushes himself off the wall, and unlocks the stall door.

He can manage, and there will be a hot shower waiting for him once he passes through the gauntlet of reporters and returns to his hotel: a well deserved reward.

He takes another step, and his thigh muscle shudders beneath the weight. Essek grits his teeth.

He can manage.

Essek is nearly to the back stairwell that will take him back to the lobby when he hears it - a new, unplaceable sound, drifting from around the corner. He steps closer, and the sound becomes clearer. Quickened, irregular breathing.

He walks as quietly as he can to the bend, and peers around.

A man is braced against the wall, arms crossed over his eyes as he leans his weight against them, his face turned towards the ground as he gulps shallow breaths of air. The shock of red hair, now fully escaped from its tie and spread loose over quavering shoulders, is unmistakable.

It’s Widogast.

Essek means to back away as silently as he came. The man is indisposed, and no matter how great his curiousity, he wouldn’t spy on someone in such a private moment. But his leg, the treacherous thing, buckles on the first step back, and that slight stumble is enough to bring Widogast’s head whipping up. His bright eyes - blue, very blue, improbably blue - land on Essek, and Essek freezes, feeling more chastened than he probably should, considering he truly hadn’t meant to intrude.

Widogast immediately straightens, sucking in one last breath before bowing his head. “I am in your way. My apologies.”

The soft accent catches Essek off guard. Stereotypical as it might be, he was expecting the more severe dialect of King Dwendal. As a child of the Dynasty, brought up in wartime, there were few other Empire voices that were recognizable. All he had were the propaganda speeches on the radio and the indistinct image of a faraway court on the television. He was not a soldier, and would never meet a child of the Empire face to face. At least, that’s what he’d assumed, at the time.

“Are you…” alright, is the word he wants to say. If it’s not an outright panic attack he’s startled the man out of, it was something close to it. But to acknowledge that feels too... forward. They’ve only just met, after all, and he is still a representative of the Dynasty. He must never forget that, or the caution it entails. “...going up?” Essek finishes, gesturing at the stairwell.

Widogast grimaces, a pained look that smoothes out to something more neutral as surely as his movements did on the ice. It’s almost disconcerting, how calm he seems now - how steeled - when only a few minutes ago he could barely breathe.

“I will, in a short while. Please,” Widogast says. “Don’t let me keep you.” His eyes move to Essek’s chest and widen in realization, and Essek is suddenly self-conscious of the golden medal that still shimmers between strips of back gauze. “My apologies again, Herr Thelyss, and... congratulations, on the victory.”

“Thank you,” Essek says slowly. So he knows who Essek is. Has the man been studying up on him as well? But he forces the momentary paranoia down. He is the reigning champion, three years running, and today’s victory sets him well on the path for a fourth crown. Of course this man would know his name. Who in the skating world doesn’t?

Still, Essek makes no move towards the stairwell, and neither does Widogast. Finally, Essek breaks the stalemate. “Shall we go up together?”

It’s a reckless suggestion. If they’re seen emerging together, the reporters will eat them alive. He’s under firm instructions from both Mirimm and the Bright Queen herself that he’s to maintain a civil, but distant, relationship with those Empire competitors he meets. But he can’t help but want to continue the interaction, now that circumstances have brought them together. He might not get another chance like this, imprudent as it might be.

If anything, Widogast’s expression becomes even more pained, and Essek watches him physically hold in a shudder. “Please, go on,” he says again. “I’m sure you’re a busy man.”

An even more reckless thought occurs to Essek. “You’re very right. To be honest, I’m not sure I feel like spending what time I have with the vultures tonight,” he says, regarding Widogast with an air of nonchalance. “And - forgive me - you seem a little tired yourself. Perhaps we should show ourselves out the back? I know another exit.” There. Plausible deniability for the both of them.

Widogast fixes him with a stare as piercing as Essek’s ever delivered, and he knows he’s been found out. That might concern him more, if he knew what, precisely, he was attempting to conceal in the offer. He hasn’t quite parsed out his own intentions - only that the enigma of Caleb Widogast has him intrigued, and he wants as much time as he can steal to begin to unravel the pieces of that mystery.

“...If you are offering, then… I would be grateful.” Widogast dips his head again, sharp expression fading to something almost weary. “I’m not sure I’m up to facing them tonight either,” he admits, more softly.

“Then the rear exit it is.” Essek turns, and a few moments later, footsteps hurry to join his as he leads the way through the twists and turns of the underground structure.

The truth is, Essek knows all the back entrances, to every major rink on the competition circuit. He often comes a day early to walk the halls, scouting out the surest route that will avoid the flash - or worse, the blinking red recording light - of the cameras. In a pinch, he’s even acquired building schematics, if advance travel wasn’t an option.

He can manage, after all - he always does - but there are some nights where he’d rather not have to.

The two of them walk in silence. Though there are a thousand questions burning on Essek’s lips, he knows that there is a time and place, and that this isn’t the appropriate one. Better to show as little of his own hand as possible, while he still knows so little about the man’s connections within the Empire, and… well, he doesn’t want to push Widogast further, not after what he just witnessed.

It might be the shrewder choice. Widogast is more vulnerable now, at least emotionally, than he might be later on, and Essek could probably press him and learn some of what he wants to know. But still-

But still. He feels how he feels. There’s no use pretending something else.

They come at last to a different stairwell, this one leading up to a set of heavy metal doors coated in cracked orangeish paint. Essek pushes the doors open and holds the first for Widogast, and the two of them exit into an alleyway. From the opposite end of the narrow path, the lights of the street blare and fade: cars, passing into the gathering night. Essek looks once more at Widogast, holding his coat closed against the chill of the damp night. Each wash of light catches the outline of the man’s hair: a glimmer of auburn against the grey brick at his back, tumbling in loose waves around his jaw.

“Thank you,” Widogast says again, this time with open, unguarded sincerity, and as the man finally meets Essek’s eyes, the back of his neck begins to prickle. “I am in your debt.”

“Indeed. Perhaps I’ll ask a favour in return, the next time we meet?”

Essek means the banter to be light - playful, even - but Widogast doesn’t smile. He does nod, however, expression altogether too serious for the tenor of the conversation. “A favour,” he says. “Alright.”

“Till the next time, then,” Essek says, and starts towards the alley’s exit. Widogast follows on his heels, but Essek holds up a hand. “Give it a few minutes, in case there are watching eyes on this side.” Widogast frowns, but as Essek points to the symbol of the Bright Queen subtly embroidered on his sleeve, he nods again in understanding.

Essek chances one last glance back before he slips out of the alleyway and onto the street. He sees Widogast framed against the door: a figure in grey silhouette, and still impossibly alone.

---

The shower does help with the pain, and he’s able to go to bed that night without splinting the leg at all, which is a better outcome than he’d hoped. By tomorrow, he’ll be back in the Dynasty, in the comfort of his own home, and for now at least he has creature comforts: good wine, a soft bed, and an evening to himself, without needing to speak to a single other soul. This is his preferred way to celebrate a victory.

As he lays down to sleep, red hair and blue eyes flutter through Essek’s mind, an inescapable interest still burning within him. He finally gives in to the compulsion at almost one in the morning, dragging himself out of bed and back to the sitting room portion of the suite. Pulling open his laptop, he quickly types a name into the search bar.

There are dozens of results for ‘Caleb Widogast’: old videos at low resolution, standings from various tournaments, even a few news articles in languages he doesn’t know. He clicks on one of the videos first, indulging himself for a minute or so in grainy clips of a boy with the same red hair - though much shorter - as the man he met today. But there’s something about the experience that’s almost uncomfortably voyeuristic, and he quickly abandons the pursuit in favour of the articles.

The few that are in the common tongue are intriguing, but sparse, and all uniformly disappear after a certain date. By three in the morning, he’s exhausted every dead end, and come to one inevitable conclusion: Caleb Widogast - the junior’s champion, a prodigy, just like Essek - existed for many years, and then he simply didn’t.

After today’s standings, Widogast won’t be moving on in the circuit. The next leg of competition is all that matters. Essek shuts the laptop, tired and frustrated, and resolves to put the conundrum out of his mind.

And, for a time, he succeeds.

2. Pivot.

The next time they meet, a season has passed, and Essek has his fourth championship victory. Riding high off his success and all the accolades that followed, the exhibition rounds before the next circuit are a breath of fresh air - literally.

The warm shores of Nicodranas seem an unusual place to host an ice skating event, but perhaps the international planning committee has tired of all the cold and dreary locales they’re typically forced to frequent - or maybe somebody had a summer home that they wanted to make use of. Either way, it doesn’t quite suit Essek’s constitution, and he begrudges not having a good excuse to wear his typical heavy mantle outdoors, but it is a change of pace.

He’s taken aback when he spies the name ‘Caleb Widogast’ on the day’s program. Countries usually announce their designated entrants for these events months in advance - how is it possible that both he and Mirimm could be caught unawares yet again? But when he asks, this time Mirimm brushes him off entirely, and he’s forced to stew in silence as he waits for the man to appear.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long. Widogast’s lot falls first in the order, and Essek settles in to watch the short program he missed all those months ago.

Alas, there’s not much to watch. If he thought the man was unpracticed the first time he saw him skate, it’s worse now. These non-qualifier rounds are meant for testing and perfecting choreography before the competition truly begins, and Widogast is obviously still working out the kinks in his routine. The jumps are turbulent, nearly all under-rotated, and even his more melodic passages lack presence or style. Once again, the second half improves on the first, but in a short program - as the name implies - there isn’t much time to make an impression. Essek fully expects to see Widogast’s face fall as soon as he finishes.

But he’s caught off guard as the music reaches its crescendo, then fades, and a raucous cheer rises from somewhere high in the stands. He’s close enough this time to see an embarrassed smile break over Widogast’s lips, and he gives a little wave to whoever made the noise before skating off the ice.

The kiss-and-cry isn’t empty this time either when he arrives. Someone is sitting on the bench, in a tracksuit of blue and grey. They’re too far off to discern any other details, and Essek finds himself rising and descending against his own better judgement, ignoring Mirimm’s pointed look as he makes his way towards the semi-circle of cameras.

Now that he’s closer, he can start to get a sense of Widogast’s companion. Tall, olive-skinned, with close-cropped hair tied up into a top-knot. Despite the baggy clothes she wears, the woman is obviously athletic. Muscles bulge beneath the flimsy fabric as she gives Widogast a hard pat on the back, and he leans in closer to her. She’s younger than him, Essek notes, and not built like a skater - nothing about her is delicate. It’s also unlikely she’s a coach, not at that age. A friend then, or a lover? He’s seen some skaters wait with their husbands or wives, even parents, when their coach isn’t available. It’s certainly a possibility.

He slips away before Widogast’s scores are announced, not wanting to risk discovery by either the man himself or the reporters that circle like sharks around the booth, waiting to snatch an interview from anyone who stops too long. He’ll have to find another excuse to reintroduce himself, somewhere farther from the ring of microphones.

He finds his moment halfway through the roster of performances. It’s a carefully engineered crossing of paths, as he descends to find a glass of water at the same time as Widogast and his companion dip off from the rest of their group, heading in the same direction.

Because, apparently, Widogast does have a group now: a few mismatched individuals clustered in the upper rows, far from the seats reserved for performers. That must have been where the cheer came from. Maybe he’s accumulated a small following between the first event and now.

Essek sidles up beside the pair, walking in lockstep for a few moments before speaking. “I was wondering if I’d see you again.” Widogast pauses, glancing over towards Essek, and puts his hand up to the woman as his eyes widen.

“Caleb, who’s this?” the woman asks, stumbling to a halt just inches shy of Widogast’s back. Her tone is entirely too aggressive for meeting a stranger, and he wonders what about himself provoked that level of suspicion in so short a time.

“Essek Thelyss,” he says, giving a slight bow. “Your friend and I met a few months ago.” Her glare only intensifies, and Widogast puts a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, Beau,” he says, then turns to Essek. “It’s good to see you again. I… understand congratulations are in order?” Essek inclines his head.

“They’re appreciated, but not necessary. I’m happy to focus on what comes next.”

“I understand that completely.” Widogast’s words seem more steady now than they were before, and his posture straighter. Perhaps it has something to do with the woman - Beau - at his side. Some need others to prop them up, when their own courage fails. Essek is not one of those people, but he doesn’t judge those who do too harshly. It’s a difficult world they live in. “I intend to do the same.”

“And how was it, exactly, that you two met, Essek?” Beau crosses her arms, flexing until the muscles ripple beneath a sheen of acrylic blue, and Essek doesn’t miss how she subtly shifts so that she’s placed between the two of them, like a surly tomcat guarding its kill. He still doesn’t know what he’s done to warrant this kind of aggression from her, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Widogast beats him to the pass.

“Beau,” he warns. “This isn’t… it wasn’t him.” She turns her glare to her friend, and Essek watches on, even more perplexed, as a silent conversation ensues beneath the actual words spoken. “And this isn’t the time, or the place.”

Beau hesitates, but seems to find what she was looking for in Widogast’s eyes. It’s her turn to breathe out slowly, as she turns back to Essek. “Sorry, man,” she says. “Didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” She sticks out a hand, and he reluctantly takes it and gives it a light shake. Her grip is incredibly strong, and Essek doesn’t try to match it, aiming instead to take his hand back quickly, before any joints leave their sockets.

“No offence taken,” he says as she releases him. “I should return, anyhow. My turn will come soon.”

Widogast looks for a moment like he might protest, but eventually his mouth snaps shut, and his expression shifts to something between embarrassment and contrition. “It was good to see you again, Herr… Essek.”

The informality of the address takes Essek by surprise - no Empire skater has ever called him anything other than Thelyss - but his mouth quirks up at the edges. He gets the feeling he’s being mollified. He’s more surprised to find that the obvious manipulation is working. “Till next time, Caleb.”

If it’s offered, then he can return the gesture. He couldn’t be blamed, for following Widog- Caleb’s lead. Courteous, but still sufficiently distant. That still lies within the confines of his mandate.

Yes. That is a line he can defend.

And besides, it may not matter much. He’s learned all he needs to know at this point. Caleb’s poor performance at their first competition was not a fluke, thus the man remains an enigma, but not a threat. Essek is happy enough to lay the matter to rest. He has greater concerns to focus his energy on.

...

Herr Essek.

He’s never heard his name spoken before, in an accent like that.

Hmm.

3. Turn.

As for the third event, their paths don’t cross at all. Essek notes the familiar name in the program at the start of the first day, but doesn’t have the time or the inclination to seek him out over the course of the competition. This is, in many ways, the most important tournament of the season, though it isn’t the one that will determine the overall champion. New skaters debut here, and the tone of the whole circuit will be set by the results of this first event. He must perform. Any other distraction is a death sentence.

And of course, with that anxiety mounting, the pain grows worse, as it always does. A flare, the likes of which he hasn’t felt in years, begins to burn steadily by the conclusion of the short programs, and the distraction is so great that even Mirimm notices his discomfort, when he can’t stop himself from squirming in his seat by the fifth hour. It’s undignified, and he hates his own weakness more than that of his body. He has better control than this.

The pain will pass, if he can put it out of his mind.

His performance in the free skate still earns him the top spot of the podium, but it’s a shakier thing than either he or Mirimm are comfortable with. For the first time in almost two years, and after a few very stern words from his coach, Essek concedes to the braces at the end of the second day. The constriction makes his gait awkward, and he waits until he is absolutely certain everyone else has left the building before attempting to sneak out to the street. His car will be waiting for him at the curbside, ready to spirit him away on the double as soon as he emerges. All he needs to do is follow the memorized route.

In this particular arena, the changing rooms are on the same level as the rink itself, and the path to his chosen exit takes him within a breath of the sideboards. He can taste the biting chill on his lips as he walks between walls of fibreglass, rather than concrete.

Essek’s heart nearly stops when he hears the schiff of blades against ice drifting through the wall to his left. Someone is still here, skating.

He will have to walk past at least one opening to the rink before his path is clear. He slows to a more careful pace, lest he be spotted. It’s too late to go back and change out of the braces now, and if he’s recognized, the person would surely wonder about his altered steps, maybe even ask questions, maybe even tell others about what they saw, and…

None of that is acceptable. So he will not allow it to happen.

At the first break in the wall, Essek pauses, then dips his head around the corner. It takes him a few moments to spot the figure on the far side of the darkened ring: a wraith of black and crimson. The shape drifts in and out of sight, obscured by the same wall that hides Essek.

Late as it is, the rink is closed for the night. There should be nobody left here but the cleaning staff, and as always, his curiousity gets the better of him. Essek risks sticking his head out a little farther, trusting the darkness of the hallway to keep him safe for long enough to sneak a glance at whoever has snuck back in.

The only light in the arena falls from a single overhead array, casting a haze of sallow yellow over only half the ice, littered with patches of red from the emergency exit signs. He thinks at first that’s what he’s seeing - the reflection of the emergency lights - but the flashes of red behind the plexiglass are too fast-moving, too unstable to be echoes of something stationary.

He steps closer still, pressing his back to the edge of the wall as the figure glides into the haze once more, curving backwards in a relaxed arc. Strips of red material that line the long sleeves of his black shirt shimmer as he passes through the transition between darkness and light. Essek squints, trying to make out any identifying features, before the skater slips into blackness once more.

He thinks, for a moment, that it almost looks like-

But that can’t be. The movement is too legato, too relaxed. If it really was-

The skater disappears, then emerges again, spinning out into an effortless combination - triple salchow, double toe loop - and sinks into the landing without a flinch or a stumble. His leg comes up as he transitions into a layback spin, the edge of the skate barely grazing the tip of his ponytail as he grasps the skate behind his head. Unmistakable auburn locks, still halfway to escaping from their tie, fan out as he spins, and spins, and-

It is him.

It’s Caleb.

Without thinking, Essek steps closer, mesmerized by the sight. The spin narrows, and his foot comes down to a point as Caleb’s hands rise into the air, held together in a perfect spire. The pace quickens, so fast now that even if there was all the light in the world, Essek wouldn’t have been able to make out his face. The only sound is the whisper of his skate against the ice as the spin resolves, and he glides into darkness again. The tension releases, and Essek realizes he was holding his breath.

This Caleb is nothing at all like the one he’s seen in competition. The transitions he uses, the posture of his arms, the suppleness of his movements are softer, less biting than before - and yes, less powerful, but more graceful in return. It strikes Essek all at once, what the difference is: Caleb is not dancing like an Empire skater. His moves tonight lack the academic precision of any of the other Dwendalians Essek has competed against, whose style he now recognizes in the remembrance of Caleb’s earlier performances. Those routines were an imitation of a philosophy, one that didn’t sit comfortably on Caleb’s shoulders.

Whatever this style is - this bowling, wild, unpredictable dance - it’s something new. Something original.

Caleb reappears into the light. Double toe loop, single toe loop, double salchow, and straight into a quadruple flip, with barely a breath of space between the two. The final jump under-rotates by a mile and Caleb’s hand smacks down onto the ice as he falls out into an erratic spin, only rescued from a total wipeout by a last ditch turn onto the inside edge of his skate. Even so, he skids almost to a halt, and Essek puts a hand to his mouth, caught between horror and admiration.

He could have injured himself there, seriously so. To force a combination like that into the leadup for a quadruple jump... it was a one in a million chance of success, even for someone of Essek’s calibre. He must have known that he would fail, and likely twist an ankle in the effort, if not worse. Why risk it? Is it a strategy for the next competition, banking on difficulty over execution to boost his score?

But it isn’t a routine that Caleb’s practicing. There’s no music, and if there was, Essek can’t imagine what piece would match the sequence of mismatched moves he’s attempting.

No, this isn’t practice for the next event.

This is experimentation.

This is creation.

At last, Caleb glides to a stop at the center of the ice. Chest heaving, he raises his hands and pushes back the bangs from his forehead, hair held in place at last by the sweat of exertion. A panting wheeze becomes a smile, becomes a grin, becomes a laugh, and the sound peals out across the rink, echoing from the farthest corners. Essek feels the same joy swell within his own chest, the same excitement at having done the impossible, even if the effort was imperfect.

He doesn’t fall in love, in that moment. It’s still too soon, for all of that. But something in his heart falls out of place, and into Caleb’s unknowing hands. There’s a force drawing him towards center ice, tethering them together - a connection, when he has not felt connected to anyone, in so very long.

Essek slips away, letting Caleb experience his last moments of giddy triumph in peace. He’s already desperate to see him once more: the real Caleb, not the shadow he’s witnessed in competition. Essek doesn’t know how he’ll manage it, but he will. He is determined not to let this be the last time.

And there has never been anything he’s been determined about, that he did not achieve.

Essek contents himself with that certainty, and only realizes as the car door slides shut at his back, that somewhere in the last hour, his pain disappeared.

#critical role #cr fic #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #my writing

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boogiewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Mae Flowers Chapter 5

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)

Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU.

Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural. Soul mates.Some domestic fluff, getting to know you stage. Talk of the unknown.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

When she woke to a warm spring morning, Mae was thankful she didn’t have puffy eyes or a headache from crying the night before. She’d sobbed hard, sadness surging from an uncontrolled well of emotion that had always been within her. She was a sensitive soul she’d been told before, both in the form of compliments and insults. Being sad that people weren’t nice to her when she always went into interactions with a good heart wasn’t something new to bring her down. But she’d had something to make the roller coaster of let down shoot back up suddenly and she was caught off guard. A nice man to be kind and take care of her after the rest of the world seemed to be against her all day. It was too much for her still fragile heart to handle and despite being less sad, but mostly confused and uncertain, she cried again. She hated crying in front of others, she quickly became overwhelmed with thoughts of being less than and looking down on her for not controlling herself.

But she hadn’t felt that last night. No, she felt seen and heard. She had someone to look her in the eyes and tell her her feelings were valid, that crying was healthy and being able to feel so deeply was a gift and not a burden. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t woken up feeling an emotional hangover like she had every other time she’d cried. Things were already proving Alfie right with how they would work better together than apart. Luckily, she had just woken up and therefore didn’t have the capacity to think about that at the moment. Right now all she was really focused on was having to pee.

Alfie sees her scuttle the short distance between her room and the bathroom in her slippers and pajamas. Little shorts and a tank, all her softness wobbling with a sleepy shuffle of her small feet. He grinned, a small huff of amusement for the little fluffy goblin scuttling around her own house. He hears the click of the bathroom door as it opens and calls out to her, “Breakfasts almost ready. Ya in?” his neck stretches in her direction, head tilted to hear her muffled reply in the affirmative.

She entered the kitchen, hand disappearing into her bed head curls to mindlessly scratch as she yawned. “Smells good.” she approves, a sniff and a heavy-footed saunter over to the round kitchen table.

“Fanks.” he mutters, multitasking with pans and spatula. “‘Mornin’ luv. Ya slept well I take it? Didn’t a hear a peep all night.” He could’ve said my dreams were as smooth and clear as a moonless night’s reflection atop a lake. A sure sign that she wasn’t bothered in her sleep.

“Yeah.” she nods, her hair bouncing as she did so. She fusses with her hair, pushing it back as he approaches the table. “Oddly enough.”

“Odd will become commonplace soon enough.” a nod and a self-assured tone she hoped to emulate moves out of a barrel chest in his plain white t-shirt. She recalled the shirt from the first time she’d seen him in her dreams. What an odd fact, she muses to herself. Perhaps he was right. “That’s some immense hair ya got there.” he smiles down at her with an affectionate inkling in his eye and tone.

“Thanks?” she gives him a quirked brow as she tilts her head up at him, peeking out from under her mop of half-formed spirals.

“Was a compliment.” he clarifies as she nods and becomes quickly distracted by the food being slid in front of her. “Full English.” he declares, his shoulders hunched as he turns to retrieve his own overflowing plate. A perk of being immortal was he could eat almost anything and everything and not give a second thought to it. He now had an excuse to make the rich comfort foods he missed. He found himself not neglecting but finding comfort in the things of old that made him, him. He had run from the messier human emotions for a long while. He ran from the things that made him human in the first place as well. That entailed disappearing and not emerging until everyone he knew was long dead. It included religion, sex, and human comforts. He was his darkness for long years, but this little sunspot was bringing him back to his old self. The things that made him Alfie before things took a turn for the worse and he became what he was now. She made him feel human again. Among other things.

“Tomatoes?” she asks, her head tilted like the curious Percy’s that just jumped onto the table to sniff at the mushrooms dissapprovingly.

“Breakfast, innit?” he says, a fork in hand and a sausage already on the way into his mouth.

“And beans?” she keeps the same confused expression.

“It’s what we ate when money was good when I’s growin’ up. Comfort food, that.” he points with a greasy fork across the sun-streaked table from the light coming through the patio doors.

“Full English.” she mutters as if it were still a question to her. “S’good.” she shrugs and pushes things around on the plate.

“Got tea, English as all bloody hell.” he chuckles and points to the kettle. “Coffee, bangers, beans, bacon, beefeaters from the garden and mushrooms. Ya made me some of your soul food, ya comfort food. This is mine.”

“Food is… weird.” the sleep starting to fade fro her voice but clearly her mind wasn’t matching up to what her mouth wanted to say.

He snorts with a mouthful of food as she chews thoughtfully. “You gonna elaborate on that ingenious remark?”

She gives him a smile, knowing there was no ill will in his jab but agreeing that she certainly would have fleshed out what she meant more. “Everyone’s gotta have it, but it’s different everywhere ya go. It’s the backbone of any culture, somethin’ anyone could know about y’know? But somehow it’s also deeply personal despite it bein’ somethin’ that everyone has.” she pauses and takes another bite. “It’s weird.” she shrugs despite that being her final statement.

“Humans are weird would be a more overlapping remark. But it goes without sayin’. Humans can make anything personal. A rock, a meal, a string of words. Very self-absorbed, very self-important. But it’s in their nature. Means of survival ‘n that.”

“Their nature? You aren’t human?”

“I was. At one time. I’m more of a vessel if you will. I am me, yeah? I hold everything that made Alfie Solomons a man, a human. But I am also timeless energy that is simultaneously full to the brim and empty all at once. Knowledge from the very beginning of time, and past the present. I’ve lived in the underworld and on this side as well.”

“That’s… sorta heavy for breakfast, man.” she states blankly before they both move into a shared laugh.

“You asked. I am here to answer.”

“Thanks for answering,” she says sheepishly. “Do I also contain all that? Time and space and the whole Carl Sagan monologue?”

He gives her one of those smiles that makes her avert her eyes. The kind that handsome men have beautiful ladies when they courted them. She wasn’t equipped to deal with his charm and ruggedly handsome face this early in the morning. Or ever, for that matter. “Yeah, love ya do. Which is why we’ll be starting with some meditation today. Help you get in touch with all that. It’ll help every facet of ya complicated self. Gotta learn restraint and control before we move onto the more… intense activities.”

“Am not gonna have to like..sacrifice anyone am I?”

He lets out a sudden laugh. “Nah, love nothin’ of the sort. Not unless ya want to.”

“I don’t.” is a quick and curt answer given. Of course, she didn’t. A little ray of sunshine made of life itself wouldn’t want to get messy. That was more his side of things.

“Noted.” he gives a firm nod and a supportive closed mouth smile before they both become absorbed by the task of fueling up for their work.

-------

He had asked her where she would feel most comfortable, and to no surprise to him, telepathic of not, she had said in her garden. With a reassuring hand on her back, he leads her to the middle of a grassy patch in the center of the back yard. Her land was totally enclosed with a high fence and the outlines covered in different flowers and bushes and fruit-bearing trees, buzzing with insects already so soon into spring. A warm sun beamed down, making her brown skin shine, freckles happy to soak up the rays and darken across her cheeks, the yellow light hitting her eyes and lighting them up golden with her lush mixture of green spun delicately around her tight iris. Her curls shone, the sun-kissed streaks happy to lighten with their long missed sunbaths every day from being stuck inside during the cold months. They were bouncing happily, air dried as she perched with crossed legs on the soft grass.

“This is a lovely garden, by the way, pet. You’ve done a bang-up job on your own.” he grunts out as she adjusts his legs to mirror her.

“Thank you. I’m very proud of it.” a soft but accepting smile graces her round and darling face as she squints in the sun.

“Ya should be.” he nods and clears his throat. “Have ya ever meditated before?”

“Not really no.” she shook her head. “I’ve lit incense and practiced some deep breathing before. But not like... Ommm and…” she pushes her middle fingers and thumbs together, resting them on her knees to explain.

He suppresses a smile at her wordless explanation of her length of knowledge on the subject. “I see.” he moves to take her hands. “Ya have a hard time quietenin’ down that mind of yours don’t ya?”

She nods, a hint of being ashamed in her eyes as she casts them downward.

“Now, now. No judgment here. This is Day 1, Step 1. Any progress is good progress. No progress is still practice, yeah? I’ll be gentle on ya don’t worry. Not here to upset ya.”

She presses her lips together and nods and takes a deep breath to steady herself.

“Now. First, we’re gonna close our eyes, yeah?” He leads her through being in the present. Taking in the moment. Acknowledging every sound and feeling, the blades of grass tickling her bare legs, the buzz of bee’s and the warmth of the sun, a kiss of wind that rustled her hair. She could sense it all, that was fine, but now she had to let it all go. “Work to clear your mind. No worries. No curiosities and philosophical musings. Just be. If a thought comes, say ‘ello, and let ‘im be on ‘is way.”

She smiles at his playful lit in explaining and she finds comfort now with his touch, hands clasped together between them.

“We’re going to have a moment, now. Try to work on that for a bit. I’m here if ya need me.”

“‘Kay.” is her soft reply as she tries to clear her mind. The garden fades away, but her thoughts still clumsily barge in. Worries about the future, the past, is she doing it right, was he sure he had the right girl? She tries to push it away and struggles.

“Ya need help, luv?” he offers with a gentle rub of his thumb against her hand.

“Yes, please.” she asks in an almost whisper of a voice.

“No shame in asking me for help, right? So make it sound like ya aren’t ashamed. I’ll ask ya again. Do you need help, luv?”

“Yes.” she states clearly, louder and a nod to back it up.

“That’s a girl. I’m gonna use my energy to calm ya down. Don’t be afraid of it. You'll feel it.”

She takes a shaky breath. “Okay. I’m not. Thank you.”

“Good girl.” he acknowledges her attempts at being self-assured and squeezes her hands. He didn’t have to, but he thought a physical cue might help her out at these early stages.

She does feel it, and it feels amazing. A shiver up her spine, his power like cool water in her veins as she exhaled in a sigh, feeling her shoulders lose their tension. Is what relaxed felt like? She didn’t know her. “Oh, wow.” she exhales.

“Good?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“S’good.” she gives a dazed smile that he doesn’t see. A grunt in response is all she receives.

There’s an easy silence between them. She doesn’t know how long it goes on, but she felt like a popsicle left out in the sun, a puddle on the grass, a fat happy frog soaking up the sun for energy without a care. A thought floats by, and she decides to share it. “Am I...looking for something?” she asks.

“If ya like. It’s a bit advanced but we certainly can. You can ask a question, ask for guidance, clarity, divination. Whatever ya like.” he explains.

“I’d like to try.” her voice quiet but due to the relaxed state she was in and not from fear any longer.

“Go on, then.” he reassures her.

“Do I have to share it with the class?” the honesty in her voice makes him let out a laugh, a quiet one as not to startle her but her endearing and effortless charm was taking him by surprise.

“Nah, luv.” he chuckles out and gives her hand a delicate brush with his thumb again to show support.

What do I even ask? She wondered. I’d like to know… anything at this point. Okay, focus. I wanna know who he is. Who… we are if we’re these… soul mates. I just wanna know what it all means. Hmmph, not asking for much there are you. She sighs out of frustration and focuses up again.

He feels her drifting and pull back and smiles. She’s learning fast.

I want to know who this man is. Who is this Alfie Solomons? Do I trust him? Is he who he says he is? What is it that I feel when he’s near, this vibrating energy inside that feels like I’m on the verge of something, good or bad I don’t know. I just want to know...anything really….please? She would be the only one who could give puppy dog eyes to the universe and have it bend to her will.

After a short while, a not awkward silence, he feels something. A tingling in his fingers first, then moving up his arms. Were they falling asleep? It wouldn’t make much sense he wonders but he soon realizes it’s coming from her. It grows warmer as if he’d sunk into a hot bath. He ran cold, like a reptile, cold-blooded before her, and feeling warm blood in his veins was something he hadn’t felt in over a hundred years. A wiggle of his heart in his chest, a warm slinking feeling up his neck and into his mind. It was far stronger than anything he expected. But he would soon find out, she was a lot stronger already than he anticipated. Her coy nature and shyness a mere cover for the intensity that lies beneath. She had been protecting everyone else with her reservations, not protecting herself.

Her intention ran through him, she wanted to know him, and her power sought him out. The universe said, if you want him, have him, I only made him for you after all, and lets her creep into his mind. It all came in flashes, waves on a shore that faded in and out, too fast to grasp it all at once.

She smelled alcohol. Something sweet and deep, she could hear machines, men yelling, heavy footsteps up old wooden stairs. There were strongly scented leather books, piles of paperwork and a feeling of unease. Another wash of nostalgia washes over her, she sees a dog, happy and excited. She sees an empty bed sat in a dark room filled with books and papers, the walls covered in so many different things, both common and rare that she couldn’t make them all out. She smells the strong scent of cleaning chemicals, a woman by a sink, working hard and a feeling a longing overtaking her. There’s a hat over the doorway, a beacon for something important, a cane by a bed, bottles that looked like medicine on a nightstand. She saw blood in the sink, a sinking in the pit of her stomach.

“Mae.” she hears him echo in her head. He wasn’t speaking aloud. “Stop it. You don’t want to go there. -I- don’t want you to go there. You won’t find what you want here. Go back.”

Her eyes fluttered behind their lids, her hands grasping his, his underlying anger showing itself for her uninvited intrusion.

A hiss that wasn’t Alfie snaps up and shuts her out. It speaks a language she does not know, but it doesn’t frighten her, although she wonders for a moment if it should. His darkness. She knew it immediately. She’s endlessly fascinated. A black smoke, formless and endless whirling, moving through muck and earth as she pursued it with hungry curiosity. -Come see. Your answers.- a distinctly masculine but not human voice says, the smoke twists into a long cylindrical shape, it forms and shifts, an awe-inspiring black iridescence comes to shape. She sees a snake, endless, it could fit in her mind but was larger than the planet somehow. She knew he, his darkness, was the snake. A fitting symbol of rebirth and transformation, immortality and renewal, as death and destruction were all forms of creation in the end. It was as if she were being gifted with sight for the first time. She could see him, and know what his essence stood for.

Sunlight shone on it and the most beautiful colors came off its scales. She realized she was the source of the light. It twists up and directs her eyes to a moon. It’s blue, purple and green, all pastel and colored like the snake. They were one, they were the night and the darkness and everything that called it home. The dirt, the death it holds, both old and new, the beasts that only emerged to worship the moon and live in the dark were its children. Every cold-blooded animal, every reptile and insect knew it and didn’t fear it. So it came for her to understand, neither should she.

She sees her sun take form, moving towards the moon. She felt no fight between them. It was as if they wanted to be close, but had long been separated by the sides of the earth. Something that existed, but didn’t, that faded in and out unnoticed until it was already upon you. They radiated blindingly bright together, and the behemoth snake reveled in it. She felt a strange pull, a split from herself as a rabbit came into view. The snake circled itself, mouth to tail as it writhed, an ouroboros as the white rabbit neared. The rabbit was her, she realized. She was seeing her light, the mate for his darkness. A rabbit she pondered, watching he fearless bound about in the sunlight, warm thick fur and a wet twitching nose, full of life and energy. Her light was life, fertility, and growth, creation and desire. A vulnerability, a softness unparalleled was what she contained. She suddenly understood it. Understood what it meant to be her, to be him, and thus, understood why they had been destined to find each other.

The rabbit and snake entwine, the sun and moon fusing, something that should’ve seemed unholy or apocalyptic seemed to make perfect sense to her. It all came together, just like everything did, from the first creation to the last, she’d always been there, and so had he. She, life, sending him, death, her gifts that he loved so much he kept them forever. A blinding light went dark and she was no longer separate from herself as she gasped and went eyed, flung back into the present, in her human body, hands tight around Alfie’s forearms, nails digging in and sweat pouring from her.

He blinked at her, the most curious expression on his face as she caught her breath. “You understand now, don’t you?” It was more of a rhetorical question at this point. “You’re more powerful than even I knew, Mae.” he pauses again, waiting for her to process it all.

“Yeah… I am.” she says with the first absolutely certain tone she might’ve ever had in her life.

“You’ll only grow more so from here. You’ve surpassed my expectations already.” he pats her shoulder and they meet eyes, as if for the first time. He sees her with a question and not fear in her eyes. She had found the answers she was looking for. At least she had enough knowledge now to grasp the situation. “This is only the beginning, luv.”

I tried to reverse search the image and came up empty handed so if you know whose it is, I’l gladly credit them.

@jaegeeeeer @brianaisasongbird @hardygal69 @emerald-bijou @captstefanbrandt @coolgh0st @tinastarkandco @xstylishmileage @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @peakys-mystic

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons au #modern alfie solomons #alfie solomons magical au #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fan fic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #soulmate au #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

Note

Request: How about Time Traveling Au??

↳ The Years of Our Lives

1.1k words || 97% Fluff, 3% Angst || Time Traveling!AU || Jung Hoseok

The grass is green and billowing with the leaves on the trees. The breeze feels cool against her skin. It’s a sunny day, cloudless too. The entire azure horizon presents itself in front of her. And the old woman leans her weight on the man beside her who’s ushering her uphill. They make their way together, staggering and wobbling. “I haven’t been outside in so long,” her voice croaks. “It’s so nice.” He hums a low note. “The weather’s good today, right?” Once she’s made it to the wooden bench by the sidewalk, he helps her sit down. “Here, let’s take a break.” He takes his place beside her afterwards, hobbling down, using the back of the bench as leverage, his bones cracking. He releases a long breath once he’s settled, exhausted by the whole ordeal. In the meanwhile, she watches the way the trees rustle, how the grass in the empty field brushes. She can hear students from afar and muses that there might be a school nearby. “I….I think I forgot something important.” The old man beside her turns slowly. “What is it?” It goes quiet as she tries to mull over it. Soon enough, it comes. “The stove! I think I left the stove on.” “No.” The man chuckles. “You didn’t.” “How can you be so sure?” “I just am. Oh, look.” He taps her knee and points. There’s a school girl sprinting down the hill. You’re racing while trying to shut your bag, frantic and fumbling your belongings. It was just your luck. You forgot to turn off the stove at home before leaving. Mom was going to kill you. At the same time, there’s a boy on a bike pedalling his way up the hill. His black hair whisks in the wind, eyes narrowed up the path as he huffs and puffs. The steep incline was making his legs burn. And he passes you. Neither of you spare a glance at one another. But then the boy stops. Despite being late for class. He puts his foot down, away from the pedal, and he ruins the bottom of his shoes by letting it skim the pavement. He whips himself around a few meters away, standing up from the bike seat. “Um, excuse me! You dropped your notebook!” “What?” You spin around, coming face to face with a boy you don’t recognize. Maybe you’ve passed each other in the halls before, but you don’t dwell and wonder if you’ve seen him before. He puts his bike down and grabs your blue notebook off the ground. He dusts it off and you run to take it back. Words of gratitude are ready to flow out your lips. But before he can give it to you, the wind picks up. The cover falls open. Sheets of paper inside take flight. “Oh no!” “Sorry!” “No, it’s not your fault. I’m just so messy, I’m sorry.” The two of you are scrambling, racing after the papers flying away to snatch them in mid-air, gathering them into thin piles. It’s terribly awkward, but it makes giggles bubble up your throat and it’s infectious enough for him to laugh too. He helps you collect those that have spilled to the ground and his eyes flicker up to stare. Once it’s all been collected, the pair of you stand and he hands it back to you. You stuff your notes back into your bag, and he takes his bike. But the young boy lingers. His feet are rooted into the sidewalk. He can’t leave just yet. Not when he’s still blatantly staring, at your smile, at your lashes. His own face feels warm, and the breeze does nothing to cool it down. The boy sinks his teeth into the bottom of his lip. He musters the courage to introduce himself to you. He wants to know your name — he’s never wanted to know something so badly before. “Young love. How sweet. They look good together,” the old lady muses, watching the encounter from afar with a softened smile. “Oh, I really hope they do make it.” “Do you know who they are?” the old man asks her. The woman frowns, wrinkles on her face deepening. “No.” “They’re us, Y/N.” There’s a held silence. You turn to regard the old man with silver hair and wrinkles set deep into his face. His cheeks have been chiseled away from age, bones almost visible to the eye. But there’s something about those brown eyes that seem so familiar. Like you’ve looked into them a million times before. Recognition sets itself onto your face. “Hoseok?” He smiles gently, wrinkled hand reaching out to cup the top of yours. He strokes the loosened skin. “Welcome back.” You turn to the young pair off in the distance who’s smiling at each other nervously. You remember now. This happened many decades ago. “What happened to me?” “It’s just age, sweetheart,” Hoseok murmurs. “Can’t blame anything. But it’s alright. I’m right here.”“Are we time traveling?” you ask, but you already know what it means — your time or Hoseok’s is ending soon. “Just to some of our best memories,” he tells you and wraps his arm around your body as you rest your head on his bony shoulder. “Is there something you’d like to see in particular?” “Anything. O-Or perhaps that time you threw a rock at my window in the middle of the night and my dad almost ran you off the lawn.” You smile, holding your husband’s hand tightly as he laughs at the memory. You watch your young naive past-selves, how they go off on their own way without knowing the future, without knowing how your lives have already woven into one another’s. They’re lucky. They have yet to live the best times of their lives. Have yet to fall in love, to be together, to marry, to have children, to build an entire life together. And those experiences are waiting for them. They’re not finished like they are for you. The trees rustle. The wind caresses against your skin. You let Hoseok’s hand go, sitting up. “I haven’t been outside in so long,” you marvel, voice croaking. “It’s so nice.” The old man beside you looks at you closely, staring almost a bit rudely. He must be one of those hospital attendants. You ask, “Did the doctors let me out today?” The stranger nods. His legs wobble as he stands. “We should go now.” “Well alright.” The both of you stagger down the hill, off to another fleeting memory.

#Requests 2019 #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #Anonymous #Jimlings #the fifth of my twelve requests #the sixth of my twelve requests

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

Text

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 22)

24 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it has been such a long time since I updated this fic, which is crazy because the chapters are taking place one right after another still, but this fall has been filled with travel and very little free time for me. I didn’t get a chance to write, and though I wanted to get the story out there and share the ideas I’ve had all this time, I wanted to give myself the space to do this story justice. It’s been an ambitious AU for me, there’s a lot of moving parts and way more reveals than I ever do, making it a really big undertaking. But all of your support along the way and your continued interest has helped keep me motivated even in the time I couldn’t work on this. As such, I really hope you will all enjoy this chapter, and I thank you all for reading!

She is never leaving my sight again, Killian thought to himself as he held Emma to his side, keeping ever vigilant about their surroundings out here in the woods.

The two of them had stolen their temporary moment alone after the encounter with the bear, but both of them knew that quiet couldn’t really last forever. Nevertheless, the wish to run away with Emma and barricade her from anything that might harm her was strong in Killian. He resisted, knowing that leaving would not only put everyone else at risk, but that it would make his Emma deeply unhappy, but in the privacy of his own mind, he allowed those thoughts to wander. At the end of the day, his priority was Emma and the baby that she was carrying now, and there was just no changing that.

As if she could hear his mind’s rampant musings, Emma’s hand came to cover his arm, a silent show that she was here and that she was readily accepting his need to protect her. She looked up to him, and though he was certain he hadn’t pushed the worried internal dialogue her way through their mental link, he could see that she knew anyway. He couldn’t hide the hurt and the harried frenzy that nearly losing her had conjured up. It still lingered here with him, as it would until all of this was over and done.

We’ll get through this, she pushed to him quietly, and in response Killian quietly brought her hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss atop her smooth and creamy skin before leading it to rest above his heart. The smile she graced him with at the reassuring motion filled him with renewed hope, but yet again their quiet shows of intimacy were short lived.

“I still don’t get it,” a voice interjected, pulling Emma and Killian from their semi-private moment. “He comes to town, tries to kill us all, claims Anna, barrels into the magic force field, and now… nothing.”

Tink’s words, lobbed at the bear that had at first seemed like nothing more than a foe, prompted all of them to look in the beast’s direction. The grizzly was ferocious and imposing still, with eyes a tempered red color, but they lacked the vibrancy of before. Now, instead of glowing a sickening scarlet, they were more molten, a deep burgundy where they were once so bright. The mellowing out of the color signaled to Killian that the bear had calmed somehow, not breaking from its fever, but tamping it down. That didn’t mean he trusted this unknown shifter though, and until they were certain he posed no threat to Emma, that bear was getting nowhere near his woman again.

“Could we maybe keep our less helpful thoughts to ourselves for the time being?” Emma countered, and though the words were sharp, it was understandable why she said them. For as much as the bear was an enigma to them, he was just as much of a puzzle to Anna, if not more so. Emma’s friend was still somewhat dazed from it all, and currently Elsa and Liam were standing with her, the former trying to comfort her sister, and the latter keeping his reflexes sharp in case the lass made a break for the bear.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Tink trailed off, unsure of how to phrase this precarious situation.

“It’s just bat shit crazy is what it is,” Ruby exclaimed.

“And about to get crazier,” Emma’s Uncle Lance noted, commenting on the impending hubbub that was coming down the road right now.

The Nolan’s were all together in their car, not having had the chance to run as Liam, Killian, and Graham had. They’d also had to wait until they were given some sort of all clear. The situation was now somewhat contained, but before that there was too much risk in having Neal, Mary Margaret, or Ruth out here. Killian had never seen Emma’s father in action, but he knew the man had been trained his whole life to be a hunter. David Nolan would have all the necessary skills to have been a part of this fight, but as it turned out, the fight came down almost entirely to the instincts of Emma and her wolf.

“Emma!”

The car was still in motion, braking on the loose, dirt path, but it did nothing to stop Mary Margaret from jumping out and running to her daughter. Killian moved back ever so slightly, knowing what would come next, but he stayed as close as possible to the massive hug Emma’s mother bestowed on her. Tears of relief streamed down the older woman’s face, but she didn’t break down, even in her moment of vulnerability. She may have been human, but Emma’s mother was strong, and fiercely protective of the children she loved so dearly.

“I told you I’d be okay,” Emma whispered, attempting to share a smile with her Mum, and the words felt like a punch to his gut. He closed his eyes briefly, seeing again the image of Emma trapped beneath the snarling bear, but he shook it away, willing himself to be strong for his mate. Reliving that terrible moment did nothing but make him weaker and more worried.

Emma’s father, brother, and grandmother all surrounded her as well, hugging Emma close before turning their attention to the others. Mary Margaret immediately moved to Gwen, trying to take strength from a woman who had answered in their hour of need, and David clearly felt the support of his lifelong friend and capable shifter Lance, but soon the greetings and reunions were tossed aside, and all attention turned to the problem at hand. It was interrogation en masse, and the questions tossed out were free game for all of them and in dire need of answer.

“Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone’s in one piece,” Graham said, having taken account of the whole group’s status as soon as the bear was contained. No one had withstood anything that amplified shifter healing wouldn’t clear up by the end of the day. All in all, they’d been incredibly lucky.

“Any injuries?”

“Just to my pride. Damn bear got the better of me at one point, and I can’t say I’m too thrilled with that,” Granny quipped, prompting the ghost of a smile to tug at Killian’s lips. In another moment he’d laugh at the old wolf and her totally serious resentment at having been bested, but things being as they were, he couldn’t quite get to the level of comfort needed for a good dose of fun. “But other than that, we’re all fine.”

“Barely,” Emma’s aunt coughed out and Killian watched as Emma’s head snapped to her. A quiet contest of wills elapsed between them. Clearly her aunt wanted to disclose how close things had really come, but Emma wanted to spare her parents the pain of what could have been. It wasn’t clear who would prove victorious, but then Mary Margaret caught the exchange and there was no avoiding the conversation.

“What happened?” Her tone held the firm but alarmed kind of shrillness only a mother could produce.

“Uh, it might be totally out of the realm of normal, but it’s also kind of straight forward,” Tink hedged, shrugging a shoulder as she proceeded to give the barest of highlights, thus helping Emma keep things under wraps. “A giant, angry, magically roided up grizzly shifter came to town, we lured it out here, we got it in the magical crystal thing, and now here we are.”

“Is that all?” David asked, having caught on to his wife’s increased agitation. “Emma?”

Emma’s muscles tightened significantly as the conversation went on, her stance looking more and more like she might just shift and run away from all of this. But instead, she looked to Killian, asking him only with her expression if he’d have her back. Of course he would, and he sealed that silent oath with a kiss to her temple. She leaned into the action for only the briefest of moments before taking a deep breath and coming clean.

The look of anguish on her parents’ faces was likely punishment enough for Emma, who had already felt some guilt about the danger she’d put herself in. Neal, for his part, looked awed at her bravery, and at one point he even interrupted with a word of praise, before a look from his mother quickly cut that thinking off. When Emma was done, it was clear that her mother especially was both wracked with worry and terribly angry. Her emotions were big and jumbled and messy, but though she probably deserved to get them out, Killian felt it was time to step in.

“Obviously there’s a lot to unpack there, but the big thing is Emma is safe now and there will never be another similar instance again.” He looked to Emma, who nodded readily. “And right now we don’t have the luxury of examining this all again. Gold has essentially declared war on us with this attack, and we can’t assume that’ll be the end of it.”

“So we’re certain now that it’s him?” Ruth asked. She was struggling to keep up given how much had been happening and that was understandable. Between Gold and Emma’s great uncle George’s appearance, there were so many unknowns hanging about right now, certainly more than could ever be easily understood.

“There’s too much magic involved for it to be anyone else,” Ruby replied. “But we were hoping you might confirm. The enchantment on the collar is still pulsing even now. It should look similar to the charms you witnessed.”

Ruth followed Ruby towards the choker, which had still yet to be touched by anyone but Emma. Without any discussion about the chance of her being jinxed somehow by the object, Ruth reached out to examine it. She nodded as soon as her skin made contact with the magic itself.

“This is definitely Gold’s work. It looks and feels the same. It’s reptilian almost, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t, but not much does anymore,” Liam remarked, and again Killian wished he was in the place to laugh. God knew they all needed it, but with so much still unknown every bit of their energy needed to be tied up in solving this life threatening puzzle.

Ruth continued to examine the artifact, her eyes taking in the material that appeared to be leather bound together by some kind of silver or platinum. It was a strange combination, but there was something in Ruth’s eyes that spoke to familiarity. Killian didn’t know if it was just her identifying the magic or what, but the hairs on the back of his neck went up just before she turned the leather over, a shocked look rushing across her face as she dropped the object back to the ground.

“Grandma?” Emma asked, having picked up on the same nervous energy that Killian did even before it truly managed to manifest. They both moved towards Ruth, searching for answers, but she appeared speechless as she looked back at them.

“Mom?” David asked, moving towards her quickly, trying to see if she was all right before sparing a glance at the cursed collar. Instantly his face portrayed the same shock, and then he let loose a very rare curse. “Son of a bitch.”

“Language,” Mary Margaret and Emma’s Aunt Gwen both said absently, but it was obviously instinct and driven by no sort of real intention. Within seconds Emma’s mother was at David’s side and held his hand in hers once more. “David, what is it?”

“That sigil.”

Killian turned his focus to the emblem on the leather collar. It was all hard lines and angles, and though it was a random association, Killian thought of how it looked so unlike most shifter symbols. It was clearly old, dating back far before the flags and figures of most great houses, but it sliced through the collar with an authority and a bluntness that looked like many knives hard at work.

“You know it?” Emma asked, prompting her father out of the angry and confused mood he was now grappling with,

“It’s the Nolan crest,” her Dad said. “And not only that, it’s my Uncle’s work. See here,” he motioned at the ridges and how the slices were jagged but perfectly symmetrical. “Nolans for centuries used branding techniques to establish our crest, but my Uncle said it left the smell of smoke. He wanted something cleaner and so he studied the old ways. All this was done with one knife in one stroke.”

“But with magic anything can be recreated, can’t it? It could be a set-up, something to throw us off the trail,” Anna said. Yet even as the words left her lips, she was still trying to figure it all out for herself. “Still, the magic is so obviously Gold’s. No one else can recreate that, why bother with any attempted distraction?”

“It’s not a diversion. It’s a claim. Gold made his with his magic and my brother made his with this,” Ruth said, her words finally reappearing though her eyes were still somewhat glazed over by ghosts from her past. “God, I wished I’d never see this symbol again, never mind the man who made it. To think he’s working with Gold. This is a nightmare.”

“I just don’t get it. Why are they both doing this? What’s the end game?” Graham asked.

“My Uncle’s will be as it always was – to eradicate shifters.”

“Even family?” Killian asked and David nodded.

“But what about Gold?” Elsa asked. “He’s got no ties to any of us but Ruth. Surely she can’t mean that much to him. She’s been awake five years, and he could have found her in any of that time.”

“Look, I don’t know the guy, but from everything you guys have found out, does it really seem like he needs a reason?” Tink asked. “The man is clearly more than a few marbles shy of a whole set.”

“He’ll have a reason,” Ruth responded. “But Elsa’s right, it can’t be me. Most likely it’s you all.” She gestured at Ruby, Elsa, Anna, and Emma.

“All of us?” Emma asked. “I mean I get them, they’re witches, but I’m -,”

“The Nolan heir and a hybrid shifter. Not to mention you’re mated to the true alpha of one of the strongest packs in America. Elsa, Anna, and Ruby have tremendous power, to be sure, and having joined together in one place, they’d be a natural threat to a power-hungry beast like Gold. But you’re truly unique, Emma, something that can’t be recreated, and to Gold that’s worth more than anything.”

“Clearly he’s willing to die over it,” Liam said shaking his head as his eyes met Killian’s. “And he will. Soon as we can find that fu-,” A shove from Elsa reminded Liam of the smaller ears in the group now and he cleared his throat before finding another word that didn’t fit nearly as well. “foe?”

“Not terrible. Not a great save, but not awful,” Neal joked, earning a smile from the adults who were still all in awe that this young boy was managing to swim in the deep end of all of this shifter drama.

“Where’s Lance?” Emma’s father asked, drawing attention to the fact that his old friend was missing from this conversation. Killian hadn’t even noticed, a testament to the extreme stealth of mountain lion shifters.

“He picked up a scent earlier but with the bear and all there was no time. We had to get to you all as fast as we could,” Gwen explained. “He’s circling back to track it now.”

“Another shifter?”

“No. I mean I don’t know. I didn’t even smell anything, but he said there was something…”

At that moment, the low rumble of a wild cat running came through the underbrush and then Lance appeared at the tree line in his shifter form. In the blink of an eye he transformed to human again. This was pretty normal for all of them, as even Emma and her friends had more exposure to shifting this summer, but for Neal it was a shock and that manifested when the boy gasped aloud. One look spared in the boy’s direction showed he was nothing but excited. No fear, no dismay. Just the giddy look of childlike wonder that a kid might have in the face of a perfect Christmas or a trip to Disney World.

“You didn’t recognize it because it’s a scent from before we ever met,” Lance said emerging from the woods. “It’s feint, but it’s citrus rinds and tea leaves.”

“George,” David and Ruth said at the same time, both resigned but obviously perplexed.

“Lance?” Gwen asked, putting her hand to his arm in question, echoing everyone else’s confusion.

“Hunters bathe in salted citrus waters with tea leaves before an attack. It largely suppresses human scent and keeps them nearly untraceable, blending in with forest smells better than any other combination. I only know about it at all because it’s what David always smelled like growing up.”

“He’s here?” Emma’s father asked, skipping over the tea bath tidbit.

“If he isn’t then he was. Trail leads to the clinic. It’s strong there but no sign of him. SUV tire tracks in the dirt. Recently left.”

“Was the SUV big enough to hold him?” Anna asked, motioning towards the bear, her face angrier than Killian had ever seen it.

“Would have been a cramped cage,” Lance admitted, making the air around Anna practically crackle with her resentment of David’s Uncle. A breeze floated in the glen around them, and in it there was a glinting of light that spoke to something more than wind. It was Anna’s palpable energy, and though she did her best to conceal it, the storm inside her mind and heart was starting to brew in the world around them. “But there’s more. The clinic has been marked, and the animals inside are feeling very on edge. You’re gonna want to get over there before some humans do.”

“Wait but hold on, how is this even possible?” Emma asked, stalling everyone in their tracks before they sped off to the clinic. “How would your Uncle have had time to get here after messing with Neal? The bear attacked maybe thirty minutes after you left. And I’m sorry, I don’t care how skilled a hunter he is. You’re telling me he brought a giant grizzly in a huge SUV into the city Boston? Doesn’t that seem like a really dumb idea?”

“Emma’s right, the timeline is all off,” Killian affirmed, and it seemed to dawn on the others how accurate that was.

“I showed Neal a picture once we got back to the house, and he confirmed it was definitely George who approached him.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Ruby asked, turning her inquiry to Emma’s brother. “Neal, was there anything strange about the man who approached you?”

“You mean other than the fact that he cornered me and said all that cryptic stuff about my being a hunter and his family?” Ruby nodded. “Uh, I don’t know he spoke kind of fast. Like a little faster than was easy to follow. Made the already crazy stuff he said even more confusing. It also felt like he was kind of talking to himself, answering his own questions when I didn’t really feel like he’d asked anything. And he kept flicking his wrist as he talked and then balling it up. His face got mad when he did that but only for a second.”

“That doesn’t sound like George,” Ruth said critically. “He’s a methodical man. His whole life has been about control and perfection. He speaks so well, he’s a vocal coach’s dream. Same with his movements.”

“Hunters don’t fidget,” David said, sounding like he was repeating words he was oft told in his past life as opposed to making any sort of additional commentary.

“Could a human smell a hunter, even though shifters mostly can’t?” Neal asked and Emma’s father responded.

“Yes but it would be almost unnoticeable. Why do you ask?”

“Well I didn’t really think much of it but I smelled something awful in the air when he came up to me. I thought it was just one of those city pockets you know? Where the air is just dirty and you kinda have to walk through it.”

“Could be,” Ruby said, “But sulfuric smells can be a side effect of dark magic. Ruth, what was Gold like when you interacted with him all those years ago? Do you remember?”

“Well he was much more unbalanced than George, that’s for sure. Gold used to talk in riddles anytime I met with him and always so fast you barely knew what he was saying. Now that you mention it the wrist thing sounds like something too. He used to kind of flick his up like this,” Ruth said, displaying a gesture that was almost caricature of what a person with magic might do.

“So the body language and the other clues hint that Neal was actually dealing with Gold and not George, and if that’s the case he must have used a glamour spell,” Elsa acknowledged. “Unless there’s another way?”

“No, for him to look like George it would have to be a glamour, it would explain the smell, but it would also take a lot of magical energy. He should be really weak after expending himself like that. I mean between that and the magic that’s been spent on trapping this bear… he shouldn’t even be alive.”

“’Should’ doesn’t really seem like a word that fits in our world at the moment,” Granny sassed and they all agreed. There was no reason to assume Gold was anything but fully healthy right now, no doubt through some sinister means.

“I think realistically we need to split this up. George has apparently left this mess for me at the clinic. We should start there,” Emma’s father said, nodding to Lance and his mother who both silently accepted their new assigned posts.

“Usually I’d say I’m all we need over at team ‘scent tracker,’ but with everything that’s happened today and all the breaches…”

“You need help,” Graham said, filling in for Tink without hesitation. “I’d go, but we need to keep up the appearance of normalcy for the rest of the town, and after this bear warning people are going to have questions.”

“I’ll go with Tink,” Granny offered, surprising most of them before letting out a disgruntled huff and straightening her shoulders. “Oh please, I’m old, I’m not dead. Heck the kids would say I’ve got ‘mad skills’ when it comes to tracking.”

“Any kids who would have said that are probably in their mid-thirties by now,” Killian whispered, and despite everything Emma squawked out something close to a laugh. She then sent him a sharp but loving look, telling him that now was not the time but that she did find him funny.

“As much as we have to find George, we need to track Gold just as badly,” Elsa proclaimed. “I still don’t sense him as being the biggest threat, but he’s in this too and if we’re ever going to get an idea of what the end game is, we need to know everything we can.”

“So that leaves what?” Ruby asked. “Bear watch? Liam and Killian can handle that.”

“What about us?” Emma asked, motioning towards her brother and her mother.

“We need to put some of that natural organizing to good use,” Ruth said adamantly. “Mary Margaret, you more than anyone could try and map this out. Getting everything we know in one place could help make everything more clear.”

“Plus no one is better at wrangling multiple groups,” Gwen added, waving her walkie talkie in the air before nodding towards Graham. “You’ve got a direct line to all of us, and the patience and know-how to get everything you need.”

“Well when you put it like that,” Emma’s mother said, clearly pleased with her role. “So what are we waiting for? This war ain’t gonna win itself.”

And since that was true, they all moved off to their designated jobs, though Killian kept track of Emma constantly. Luckily her mother decided to set up their brainstorming outside here in the glen, so as much as Killian was on bear watch, he was also looking out for his mate. Killian would not let anything happen to Emma and their family, so right now it was his mission to use all of his years of experience as a shifter to aid in their protection. In the long span of his life where he sought to avenge his mother, and then in the years spent tracking and avoiding any signs of Liam and his pack, he had become a well-honed machine. His skills allowed him to feel ready for whatever may come, and he trusted that his love of Emma and his want to protect both her physical being and her heart would make anything possible. Whatever foe may present themselves, he would handle them, because there was no other option as far as he or his wolf were concerned.

That readiness and familiarity with trouble, however, did not apply to everyone, and there was one person amongst them who more than anyone must be flummoxed and uneasy given all the tumult. Killian looked even now at young Neal and he felt for the boy. He was putting on a brave face, but there was still concern that made its way to the surface now and then. Emma’s brother hid it well from his overbearing and constantly watchful mother, but when Mary Margaret moved away to talk with Gwen on the walkie talkie about everything going on at the clinic, Killian saw a chance to try and do some good.

“You holding up all right, lad?”

Killian posed the question like it could in any way be straight forward to this young boy. Emma’s brother had woken up this morning a gifted but largely ordinary child. He was brilliant to be sure, but he had no real notion of what any of this meant. Human science alone couldn’t prepare him for this, not when the books they taught in schools mentioned nothing of this whole different part of the world. It must be a great shock to him, yet here Neal stood, ready for action and above the fray of questions most people, no matter what age, would grapple with when a situation like this arose.

“It makes sense in a way,” Neal admitted, shrugging his shoulder. “Not the whole my great uncle is working with a warlock thing. That’s just crazy.”

“Aye it is. But the shifting, and your wolf, they’re not as surprising to you?”

“I had dreams, back when everyone thought I was going to die.” Neal shrugged at the memory of those times, because his childhood illness was just a part of his life. It was a painful chapter of the Nolan family story, but Neal looked to be all the stronger for it now. “They were pretty all over the place. I was sleeping all the time and I was in and out, but there was a woman towards the end, that I remember. She was nice, with a smile like my mom. I knew I could trust her, and the next thing I knew she turned into a wolf and I did too. It was weird, but it felt right, you know?”

Killian gulped, knowing that the woman Neal spoke of was his mother. He debated telling the boy the full truth, but given everything that he was saddled with now, it didn’t seem wise. There would be time, hopefully, when all of this had been resolved and he and Emma could have a full discussion with Neal about all they’d learned. They’d tell him of Emma’s own dreams, of the process Elsa’s magic had undertaken to save them both, and how Killian’s mother found a way even beyond the grave to watch over him and the family he would one day love. But for now, the best course of action was bolstering Neal’s faith and telling him this would all work out okay.

“It must be strange, to learn of what you are later like this. I know for Emma it was a unique process. It can be overwhelming. But it’s also…” he searched for the right words.

“Uh, totally cool?” Neal filled in, looking genuinely enthusiastic. “I mean I can turn into a wolf. That’s pretty bad ass.”

Killian and Neal’s heads both whipped towards the direction of Mary Margaret, but despite her motherly senses, she seemed to have missed her son’s bit of cursing. That was likely for the best.

“It’s an amazing gift to be sure. I know I’d never feel truly whole without my wolf. I’m glad you and Emma will have that now too.”

“Yeah. I just wish I didn’t have to wait. I mean five more years? That feels like forever.”

Killian smiled and he knew that for Neal it must seem like just that. As a kid, years felt like they’d never pass, and time would never move in the direction that you wanted it. It took the benefit of hindsight to see that everything comes exactly when it should, and as a new shifter, Neal would be in much better shape if he had a few years of understanding who he was before moving into that phase of his life.

“When things calm down, we should talk. You’ll have questions, and while your father is well versed in much of the shifter world, he might not have all the answers.”

“Did your Dad have them?” Neal asked, not out of any malice, but because he just genuinely didn’t know the history of Killian and his family.

“No, but I was lucky to have an elder brother.”

“And now I will too,” Neal said, like Killian’s new status in the family was a long time given. Killian smiled at that, nodding.

“Aye. That you will. Whatever you need, Neal, I’ll be here to help. So will Emma, and Liam, and all of us.”

“Like a real pack,” Neal said and Killian thought about it a moment before nodding. After all, what else could they be called at this point? There were so many of them, shifter, witch, and otherwise, tied together through love, through family ties and friendship. If that wasn’t a pack as it was intended to be then Killian didn’t know what it was.

Feeling secure in the fact that Neal was okay, Killian planned to switch his attention back to the others and their deliberations, but the bear suddenly let forth a harsh huff of air, propelling the front of his body up into the air, before stomping its thick paws into the earth below. Killian went on alert, preparing to get to Emma if the grizzly should break free, but then he gathered that the others were talking about the bear and the bear was somehow communicating, though perhaps not very effectively.

“It’s the weirdest thing,” Neal said, shaking his head as he watched the captive beast.

“Seeing a mammoth grizzly in a magic cage? Yeah, weird is one way of putting it.”

“It’s not that. It’s the smell around him. It’s sterile and sharp. I swear it smells like when I was in the hospital. Like an IV but not quite.”

Sniffing the air, Killian could at first only sense the overwhelming stench of a shifter sickness and Gold’s magic, but there, underneath those notes, there was something he belatedly recognized as medical. Now that Neal said it, he wondered how he, or any of the other shifters had missed it all this time.

“I’ve got news for you, lad: those supposed genius tendencies of yours are not purely human. You’re gonna be a hell of a shifter.”

Neal grinned at that, and after Killian urged him to tell the others, a whole new door of inquiry opened. Everyone came back from their separate corners of Storybrooke, seeking to put a new piece of the puzzle in place.

“Magic and medicine? But that’s crazy. Can it even be done?” Tink asked.

“I think we’re looking at the proof,” Elsa hedged, gesturing at the bear.

“Did anyone get a bite of his neck?” Emma asked and the others who had been there in the thick of the fight shook their head. “He’s got two puncture marks there, I saw a flash of them when I took the collar off, but I just assumed…”

“Let’s all just make a plan to stop doing that for the time being,” Graham said and they heartily agreed, for surely assuming anything was getting them nowhere. They had to start from scratch and do as Neal had done, study the problem just with the facts and clues before them.

“Are the marks identical, Emma?” Neal asked and after a moment of reflection Emma nodded.

“Yeah, they looked pretty similar. I only caught a quick glimpse though.”

“Can you get him closer to us?” Neal asked and Mary Margaret shook her head.

“Neal, no -,”

“He doesn’t need to leave the enclosure, Mom. I just need to see his neck. Emma said there’s two punctures. That’s rare in medical treatment of any kind, human or animal. There’s usually only one puncture site. Whenever I needed more than one medicine they stuck me in different places or they’re infused through one site, resulting in only one puncture. Two identical pierces is almost unheard of. In fact, the only researchers I know that have regularly and successfully used two study genetically based nervous system manipulation.”

“Uh, can you repeat that in English?” Liam replied and Killian related to his brother’s sentiment. This was elevated stuff well beyond the experience set of any of the adults here, save for maybe Emma and David who had a veterinary background, and Neal was a teenager. How did he know about this?

“Basically treatment to regrow and stabilize a broken nervous system. Yes, it’s super complicated and obscure, and before you ask, I just spent the summer rooming with a medical prodigy who is headed to Columbia pre-med at 14. You pick up stuff when all your friend talks about is cutting edge science stuff.”

“That’s brilliant, Neal, but what makes you think that this has anything to do with that?”

“Well the dual needle there wasn’t just used for fun, it was necessary to yield any positive results. The doctors were trying to infuse damaged nervous systems with a lining that would revamp nerves and allow for an artificial system reboot. They needed two different solutions to do that, and they needed to mix at the same rate through the body while not being combined outside of the system itself. They said that allowing the chemical interaction to happen inside the body actually improved the lasting effects of the treatment.”

“So that begs the question, how do we get closer to him?”

Granny’s query prompted all of them to look to Anna automatically, but that only prompted Elsa to get defensive.

“No! No way! Absolutely not! You are not going in there.”

“Elsa we need to know,” Anna replied, her tone even, not matching the loudness or the fear of her sister. “And it’s like I keep telling you. He won’t hurt me.”

“Maybe we can just ask him to come closer?” Emma added, clearly not wanting her friend anywhere near that bear without the barrier still between them.

“But what if one of the solutions Neal is talking about isn’t just science?” Ruby replied, her brow furrowed together. “If it’s magical then we need a witch to gauge that and that would be damn near impossible with Elsa and Anna’s enchantment as strong as it is.”

“We’re not doing this,” Elsa said, her anguish clear, but the fight in her starting to fail somewhat.

“What other choice do we have, Elsa? We’re in danger and more than that we’re blind. We need answers. We need them to stay safe, and we need them to heal him. He has to be okay, Elsa. He just has to be.”

The connection Anna felt to this bear was strong already though she’d never even seen his human form. Killian understood that, and though it must feel impossible to accept that Anna might be in any kind of danger, Elsa did too. All she needed to do was think about when it was Liam. When the two of them first met, Liam was still unstable and unwell, perhaps to a different degree, but Elsa stood by him. She was devoted right from the start, and she did everything she could to heal his brother and to stop his pain. Anna wanted to do the same thing, and now Elsa had to support her, fear and all.

You will not hurt her, do you hear me?

The mental push came from Emma and was aimed at the bear, but Killian still heard it. Her eyes were wary, set on the grizzly as her face gave nothing but seriousness away. The bear snorted but gave a sharp nod, unwilling or unable to reply with coherent thoughts, but showing with animal action that he was not in an aggressive place.

“Okay, Anna. You can go in there, but only for a minute. You find out what we need to know and then you get back out here. Are we clear?” Emma asked and Anna nodded. Without any more deliberation she moved to the edge of the crystal enclosure and then she stepped in.

Not knowing how things would go made the moment of Anna’s examination emotionally fraught, but beyond that this was a moment that both Emma’s friend and this unknown shifter must be craving on a cellular level. They were fated mates, destined to be together and yet unable to have more than a brief interaction. They couldn’t even speak to each other, and the fact that this was all happening while he was a bear must make things even more confusing. Yet none of that translated. Instead, Anna approached with cautious determination, stopping just before the bear and pausing only for a moment before she raised her hand to the bear’s face. Her hand made contact and everyone held their breath until the bear made a low, but welcoming growl.

“Hi,” Anna murmured after a moment, her voice raspier than usual. “This isn’t how I thought something like this would happen. I had all these ideas about who you’d be and how we’d meet and this is just… well, different.”

The bear closed its eyes for a moment exhaling what could only be called a grizzly form of a sigh, and then nuzzled more so into Anna’s touch. A sign of agreement and docility that was so alien a concept with a shifter this sick.

“Anna.” Elsa’s calling out to her sister reminded Anna of her mission and she straightened her stance and nodded.

“Right. I have to fix this. I have to help you. And I don’t know if you heard what we were saying but -,”

The bear didn’t even need to hear the rest of her request, instead shifting so Anna could be up close and personal with his neck and the site of the punctures Emma had seen. Anna let out a sound of sadness at seeing where the bear had been injured.

“What do you see?” Neal asked.

“Two puncture marks, just like Emma said. And they’re really big and thick. I can see why you thought someone bit him. He’s started to heal over it but there’s scarring and…” she raised her hand over the wound but trailed off from speaking to them.

“And what?” Ruby asked.

“You were right Ruby, I can feel the magic. Some sort of potion of something. But there’s something else here. Some residue of something else.”

“We need to see that!” Neal said, his desire to figure out this puzzling situation clear as day. “We can test his fur or maybe get some blood work, but it would be better if we had the actual solution itself.”

With just the barest flutter of her fingers Anna used her magic to extract the droplets of whatever liquid coated the bear’s fur. It was entrancing to see, and the little bits of whatever injection was used hung suspended in the air. It was a small amount, but small was better than nothing at all. “I need something to put this in.”

A vile was produced from Mary Margaret’s bag, and no one bothered to ask why she had it. No doubt some sort of ‘always be prepared mentality’ and Emma brought it to the edge of the barrier with Killian right behind her. But while they expected Anna to come right away, she was stalled, wanting, no doubt, to stay close to her mate.

“I know how hard this must be, Anna, but the sooner we figure out what this is the sooner you can heal him.”

“I’m going to fix this,” Anna said, for the bear’s benefit and not for any of theirs. “We’re gonna find out what this is and I swear I will fix it.”

At the mention of her leaving, the bear’s eyes went dark, looking more onyx than any shade of red. It reminded Killian of his father and of Liam and it all clicked. This was some sort of manufactured alpha sickness. It had to be. But just as soon as that darkness came, the bear shook its head and pushed it back again, its irises back to a deep burgundy color. The bear hoisted its body up and then stomped its two front feet to the ground but made no more sounds. It was a dismissal of Anna, and a nonverbal warning that she had to go now before he lost control. Anna seemed to understand and she moved quickly towards the barrier and back outside with all of them. With shaky hands she used her magic to put the droplets in the vial and then sealed it before handing it to Neal.

“You want me to look at it?” Neal asked, his eyes growing wide.

“Yes, Neal, I do. You were right about the injections, and if we didn’t have that we’d pretty much have nothing to go on,” Anna said. “You are brilliant, and you are my brother, in every way that matters. Right?”

“Right,” Neal agreed without hesitation.

“I know it’s asking a lot, and I know you might not be able to handle everything alone, but I just need you to try. Anything you learn is helpful. Anything. I can do the magical stuff, but I don’t know anything about medicine.”

“I’m gonna need help,” Neal said looking to Emma and Emma nodded.

“And you’ve got it. You’ve got me and Dad. I don’t know much about double injections or genome treatments, but I’ll do whatever I can. We’ve got equipment at the clinic. We can run some tests and see what compounds we’re working with and -,”

Killian was about to speak up and say that Emma needed to think about this before making any bold decisions. She’d been through the ringer today, and this testing would no doubt be an involved process. It worried Killian that Emma would continue exerting so much energy when she’d had such a close call earlier, but surprisingly it was Neal who vocalized that worry first.

“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do, Emma. But I think Dad and I have got this for now. You should rest up. You’ve had a way longer day than the rest of us.”

“But I can help too,” Emma reasoned.

“And you will. But maybe tomorrow, all right? This is gonna take a while. We won’t find any answers right away anyway. You know that.”

Killian waited eagerly, hoping that Emma would reach that conclusion on her own as well, and he felt himself relax when she agreed. It was such a relief to know that Emma wouldn’t be over extending herself into the wee hours of the morning. The day was already fading away, with the sun dipping low in the trees, and Killian knew that what his mate needed was food, rest, and time away from the insanity of their world right now.

The others all agreed with Neal’s take, and with a new plan in motion people started to split up, headed for their evenings in different ways. The Nolans headed to the clinic to grab start testing things both at the lab and then back home, while Ruby, Anna, and Elsa agreed that they should try and process the magical concoction that Anna had sensed in the bear and in the collar. Ruby would do so with her family’s archives back at Graham’s, but where Elsa tried to offer a similar scenario for her and Anna, Anna was uninterested.

“I’m not leaving him,” Anna said sternly, looking back to the bear with a fierceness of conviction that had no chance of being swayed. Knowing this instinctively, Elsa let out a small sigh but nodded.

“Okay, so we stay.”

“You two mind?” Liam asked, and Killian smirked at his brother’s question. Even if he did mind it wouldn’t matter much. Liam would just camp out here with his mate and her sister. But there was no need, not when he had somewhere else he and Emma could go.

“Knock yourselves out,” he quipped, gesturing to the doorway. “We’ll just pack a bag and be out of your hair.”

“We’re not staying?” Emma asked, looking surprised, but also a bit relieved if the flash in her eyes was anything to go off of.

“I have a better idea, love. That is, if you trust me.”

“Always,” Emma said, and though he stole a fleeting kiss from her lips, it was but a mere morsel to tide him over until real privacy could be procured.

True to their word, they took only a few minutes to pack what they needed, and then they were off. They could have walked to their destination, or shifted and run over, but with George still on the loose and Gold MIA Killian wanted the opportunity at a faster getaway if need be. The drive was rather short, even with a stop at the town diner to grab some dinner, and the most notable change was that they went from the deep woods where their cabin was further towards the coast just at the edge of town. Eventually the paved Storybrooke road turned to one of pebbles and dirt, and Emma looked both amused and confused at why they would be going this way. Her eyes soon shifted though to mere enjoyment, as she took in the picturesque surroundings of this coastal lane, surrounded by greenery and bushes that held large summer flowers in shades of pinks and blues and whites.

“They’ll be paving this soon,” Killian announced and Emma’s brow furrowed as she looked from their surroundings back towards him once more.

“How do you know that? No one even lives here.”

“Ah, perhaps not yet, but the house has been recently purchased and a move in is likely inevitable.”

“Well the new owners have done a ton of work. This was all overgrown before. Has been since I was a kid. I always loved this house though.” Emma made the comments just before they pulled around the bend, and when she saw the house in question her jaw dropped and her shock was palpable in the car. “Oh my God! Look at that. It’s… well it’s…”

“Do you like it?” Killian asked and Emma nodded immediately though her brow furrowed with confusion.

“I do, it’s gorgeous, but I don’t understand. When you said there was somewhere else we could go I assumed you meant my place above the clinic.”

“We could have gone there, but tell me you wouldn’t have then been tempted to burn the candle all night searching for answers.” Emma couldn’t say that truthfully so she opted not to respond, giving Killian the space to pull her closer as he confessed his intentions. “When we were in the woods before I told you that someday would be here sooner than you think. This house was meant to be your wedding present, but I think, all things considered, we should cherish every moment that we have.”

“I thought you were talking about the baby” Emma whispered, her eyes misting over with happy tears as he stole a kiss from her lips with soft but sure affection. His hand came over her stomach automatically at the mention of their pup and when his lips pulled away from hers, he couldn’t help his genuine smile.

“I was, my love. Our family is on the path to exactly what we’re wanting. But as much as I cherish our cabin in the woods, this,” he waved his arms at the house before them. “This is the home you and our little ones deserve.”

With Emma still stunned into near silence, Killian produced the keys to the house from his pocket, having grabbed them from the cabin discretely enough to escape Emma’s notice. On the keychain there was also a token charm that had caught his fancy while in town. It had a swirling design that looked like the fur of a wolf when examined up close, or the sea in the midst of great uncertainty. In the foreground of the metalwork, there was an anchor, and for whatever reason, he found he liked that symbolism and that it made him think of his mate and the life that they were building together. In every way, Emma was his anchor, an anchor to goodness and love and hope, all things he now could no longer live without and that he wished to carry with him always.

“Killian.”

His name was all that Emma could seem to say in this moment, and her fingertips came to cover her mouth as she shook her head in awe. For a split second he wasn’t totally sure if he had made the right call. Buying one of her favorite houses in town might seem like a great idea, but perhaps Emma wanted to be more involved herself in the process of finding their forever home. There was so much that had to be selected and chosen to bring the house into this century and up to a livable code, while still maintaining the quintessential charm of the coastal Maine mansion. But when Emma’s green eyes welled with happy tears and her cheeks flushed that familiar shade of pink, he knew he’d made no wrong moves. Emma was happy with this, and that was all that he had ever wanted.

“Now I should warn you, love, not everything is finished. I gave them a timeline of the end of the summer, knowing that I wanted it done by our wedding night. But it’s structurally sound, and the upstairs is all furnished. Well at least it’s supposed to be and I -,”

Emma laughed at his sudden feeling of remorse, and then she pulled him in for a kiss so fast that he lost all sense of himself before his worry could actually begin to take hold. All there was in this moment was Emma and her happiness. Out here, away from everyone else, Killian allowed his overprotective need to kick in, and with a quick maneuver, he had Emma backed against the front door, knowing he had boxed her in, but never going so far as to hurt her. If anything, it just turned his mate on, and she arched even closer, taking as much from this kiss as he did, until they finally broke apart.

“You bought us a house,” Emma whispered.

“Aye, love,” he said, cupping her cheek after brushing some of her hair back from her beautiful face. “I bought us a house.”

“How do you always manage this?” She asked, and Killian didn’t know what exactly she meant by ‘this’ but he awaited her assessment whatever it may be. “Every time things go sideways, there you are, making things better. This is perfect, in every way. There’s only one thing I wish was different.”

“What is it love?”

“I wish I was already your wife. I wish we didn’t have to wait anymore.”

Hearing that amplified Killian’s own want for the same exact thing, but despite the fact that they had tonight ‘off’ so to speak, a wedding, a real wedding, worthy of his mate and all her hopes and dreams, just couldn’t be done. As such, he had to improvise.

“Do you, Emma Nolan, choose me, Killian Jones for this day and all your days? In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in this life and any more we may be blessed enough to see?”

“I do,” Emma said, with tears glistening in her eyes as she smiled, looking at him with all the love in the world. “And do you, Killian Jones, choose me back? Will you promise to love me, to cherish me, and to honor me in every way I plan to do for you, for this day and for always, no matter what may come?”

“I do,” he replied and Emma let out a soft laugh, a tantalizing sound that caught on the wind before fading away as their lips came together to seal their vows to each other.

They were now, in their hearts, man and wife, mate and mate, and though it might not be ‘official,’ Killian knew in that moment that he and Emma had bound themselves together in a new and enduring way. And so, even though things might not be going exactly according to plan, Killian delighted in the moment when he swung his love up in his arms and whisked into the house of their future and showing her the place that would be the site of their hopefully impending happily ever after.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I know this chapter has taken so long to come about, but with so many elements that I had wanted to incorporate, I knew I needed time to not only write, but to read through what I’ve already written. This whole George and Gold fiasco will soon be coming to a head, BUT please be informed it might not all be in this particular story... For those of you who have been begging me for a story that includes CS but is mostly told from the POVs of others, you will be *eventually * getting your wish. Elaborating more would be spoiling what is yet to come, so I’ll leave it there, but suffice it to say I am really excited for this next cool idea when it does come to pass. aAs always I appreciate you guys reading this, and I hope you all enjoyed and have a wonderful rest of your week!!

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