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hanmajoerin · 4 years ago

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A/N: Thank you to my good friend for sharing her dream journal entry and inspiring the feel for this one shot because every day InuYasha spent without Kagome must have been an unending dream.

Summary: There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too.

** Nominated for the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards for Best One Shot 🥺💖

**Third Place Winner for the Best One Shot of the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards. Thank you to everyone who voted for this story! I love you all ❤️ ~

II AO3 II FanFiction.Net II

Things to Keep

InuYasha lounged under the shade of one of many trees lining the river near Kaede’s village. Miroku washed his family’s night robes with Gyokuto strapped to his back while Sango burped Kin’u. It’d been over a year since the well sealed. InuYasha still thought about the surprised look on Kagome’s face when he was pulled back, but he prefered to remember her safe in her mother’s arms. It was difficult to do.

Kin’u burped and, within seconds, Sango had the newborn secured to her back again. When she kneeled by Miroku and told him she’d take over, InuYasha’s ear flicked. Despite catching their soft commentary more often, Sango’s tone was much gentler than the half-demon was used to hearing. Miroku made room for her effortlessly, choosing to help by trading clean pieces of laundry with dirty ones.

This was how they all lived now, resting by the greenery and exchanging cloth instead of sutras and oversized boomerangs. He wondered if Kagome’s days were boring like his; she always seemed frantic when he came to pick her up. Maybe she didn’t have time to think about them anymore. It would be easier for her that way.

Miroku shifted, putting InuYasha in Gyokuto’s line of vision. The newborn extended her arm out to him, and he was fascinated by the way her fingers flexed. There was more space between them now than there was last month. InuYasha had never really been around human babies before and it felt weird to compare the lethargic emptiness Kagome left in her wake to the enthusiastic growth of infants. InuYasha offered Kin’u a passing glance. He wasn’t going to tell her mother that an icicle of drool would fall onto her back soon.

The spring sun warmed people in its path and InuYasha’s legs didn’t understand the chill lingering on his torso because of it. Kin’u was gurgling now, gnawing on her fist. Miroku once told InuYasha how remarkable it was for him to tell the twins apart as quickly as he did, but the monk must’ve forgotten his nose. The girls looked the same, but their scents were unique. It was kind of like Kikyo and Kagome’s: similar but only on the first sniff.

The afternoons were getting longer again.

InuYasha opened one eye at the exact moment Sango began shaking out a small, fibrous white towel with blue polka dots. As if possessed by a demon, InuYasha was there. Standing by the river, standing before Sango. The towel never broke the water’s surface.

“What’s that?” InuYasha asked, arms folded over his chest. Sango quickly pulled the towel to her heart. The polka dots contorted in the slayer’s grasp, and her brown eyes widened with the tiniest hint of fear. It was as if she believed InuYasha’s claw tipped fingers would swipe it from her forever. As if. He wasn’t a jerk. Sango glowered at him anyway, firm. She knew what it meant for him to see this, and she wouldn’t let it go just to ease his heartache when it would worsen hers.

The two never spoke about Kagome and he didn’t want that to change. He should have wanted it to, but he didn’t. It hardly made sense, but he’d been struggling to make sense of a lot over the past year. His throat closed up when he tried talking about Kagome. The words refused to leave him.

InuYasha leaned forward, far from Sango but close enough to learn that this wasn’t the item’s first trip to the river. It still smelled like her. Bergamot and lilies and early summer mornings; half blue and half pink skies that fog never touched. “That’s Kagome’s.”

Without meaning to, he committed the thing to memory which explained why he placed it so easily. Kagome asked if he wanted to use it after him and Miroku’s run-in with the moth demon, Gatenmaru. The blood of that bastard’s human lackeys sank into InuYasha’s skin long before his humanity rose to the surface. The towel couldn’t have helped him any, and if he tried hard enough, InuYasha’d probably still catch scent of their blood like phantoms on the wind. The half-demon reached, finally accepting the school girl’s gesture, but Sango turned away. “Where’d you get that?” He asked.

“From Kagome’s bag; it wasn’t the only one in there,” Sango replied, submerging it into the river and forcing more distance between them. InuYasha’s brow twitched, but he doubted the demon slayer cared.

Brown eyes. Bergamot. Unwavering resilience. All of that flowed downstream now. He hated it.

“We–”

“Keh, it’s none of my business,” InuYasha spat, spinning on his heel. The towel was still his business. His arm felt like it was shaking even though InuYasha could clearly see it wasn’t. The plush towel sat behind his closed eyelids, opposite ends fluttering against the side of Sango’s hands as she held it in place. The polka dots grew and shrunk in a rhythm set by the rushing water. A budding mental itch grew to push Sango onto the grass so he could pluck Kagome’s towel out and run far, far away with it.

InuYasha swallowed hard, flicking an ear casually. Kin’u was there and he’d never shove Sango. If he grit his teeth, InuYasha could do it. He could continue letting the demon slayer turn what little he had left of Kagome into meaningless things to keep.

“With the birth of the twins, we felt it was necessary,” Miroku confessed as InuYasha continued walking away. If he stayed, he’d make an ass of himself.

There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too. Listening to Sango ring out the towel, InuYasha knew he was still paying his price. She wouldn’t miss Kagome’s scent like him, but knowing that another part of Kagome was leaving curdled his thoughts, ate at the same damn spot on his chest.

“Whatever.”

InuYasha heard Kagome calling out his name as he settled back against the trunk of a tree further from his initial spot. Like Miroku and Sango gave a shit. The sound of his name–the sound of her saying his name–lingered. Nostalgic.

The slayer handed her washed towel to Miroku, prompting an unwarranted pensive glance to be aimed in his direction. “Keh,” InuYasha huffed, turning his nose away from the monk. He turned it back in time to watch Miroku offer the towel a tender stare. Deep violet eyes looked as if stroking the fabric was a gesture that could be felt across time. If he hadn’t done the same sort of things, InuYasha would have scoffed.

Miroku placed the towel in the straw basket with everything else.

One leg breached past the leaves’ shade and a pair of amber eyes seemed to glow, overseeing a family that perpetuated the same cycle: Hand the husband something clean, one baby coos, put it in the basket, give the wife something dirty, the other baby coos, scrub.

InuYasha cupped his hands together before placing them behind his head. He closed his eyes once more, resting, picturing her running across the plush grass. Kagome waved to him and her hand practically skimmed the clouds. Her shoes never crunched down onto the ground like their friends’ straw sandals did. She was a familiar combination of green and white and black with a dash of red. She had a warmth that pierced through the arrow Kikyo used to seal him, every punch Sesshomaru landed, his own demonic blood, and now the loss of her.

An incessant jangling sprinkled like rain in his mind, wiping away at the sunlight and clouds that Kagome always reached. InuYasha blinked a few times, adjusting to this world with only Miroku, Sango, and the twins. “‘Bout time you finished,” he grumbled, standing fully in the shade.

“You know, an extra set of hands would be helpful next time,” Miroku suggested with a predictable waggle of his brows. InuYasha felt his own brows being dragged down; Kagome should’ve let the monk steal her iron cart and cycle away from them permanently back when they first met.

“No thanks.”

The days really were getting longer. The sun hadn’t budged, poised exactly where he last saw it. Sango snickered and InuYasha brushed past her, grabbing the basket of wet laundry and stomping from the grassy knoll to the main path. A stupid decision, really. The slayer’s eyes could have burnt holes through him if she’d been the right kind of demon. Even though she was a human, this type of stare would–

“Hey, InuYasha,” Sango began, and the half-demon let out an exasperated sigh. He fixed his focus to the huts ahead. Dark wood and reed mats and crackling fires.

“What?” Occasionally, a fractured piece of rock got stuck to the balls of his feet, and InuYasha was half tempted to kick one up to chuck at the trees.

“You can talk to us. You know that, right?”

“Keh.” And there it was, the block in his throat. How could he speak about Kagome like this? There wasn’t any room for the words.

“Is that all you have to say?” Sango snarled as the half-demon continued standing quietly, his expression unchanged. “Ever since the well reappeared, you’ve been acting like Kagome was never here! Don’t you miss her? Isn’t there any–”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” InuYasha ground out, closing the distance between them before the slayer could even finish. He stared down at her, but Sango met his glare relentlessly. She was the one who took Kagome’s towel without a second thought, Sango went through the bag Kagome packed right before their last battle together, and she was the person responsible for carelessly washing away the bergamot and lilies. “Kagome is safe and that’s it,” he finished and he meant it.

Sango grimaced, stomping her foot. InuYasha caught Kin’u watching them, thin brows scrunching just like her mother’s. “Oh, InuYasha, you’re absolutely insufferable!”

InuYasha placed a hand to his hip, yearning to step on a pebble. He scowled at Sango and gave the basket an extra sniff to remind himself how the scent of Kagome barely wrapped around Miroku and Sango’s. His body felt like a chattering leaf. “Did you expect me to cry or something?”

Sango sighed, walking past him and taking back her laundry. “No,” she mumbled, walking ahead of him.

Miroku stopped, clapping a hand to the half-demon’s shoulders. “Try not get too mad, she means well.”

“I know that,” InuYasha huffed, allowing the monk to step ahead. He watched the family, arms crossed over his chest, before picking up the rear. The five continued, a squeamish silence settling over them that left the twins lightly whimpering every now and again.

In a stroke of luck, InuYasha stepped on a rock. Kicking it up to his hands, he contemplated where to throw it. He tossed it in the air a few times. The silver ears atop his head swiveled, and a large grin spread across his features as he honed in on the unmistakable scent of a rabbit in the bushes. Wouldn’t hurt to spook the thing, InuYasha thought to himself, eyes on the forest. Just as he reeled his hand back, he lowered it, turning sharply to face Sango. She was pilfering through the laundry basket like a deranged woman. Ah, she finally snapped, InuYasha noted. “Isn’t there something of Kagome’s that you hold onto too!?” the slayer nearly screamed, thrusting that white and blue dotted piece of cloth like a trophy above her head.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” the half-demon retorted, tucking the rock in his robe. His hand glided past a smooth surface, something foreign to his clothes but close to him nonetheless. His fingers grasped at its binding. Miroku chuckled, much to InuYasha and Sango’s dismay. “What’s so funny, Bozo?”

“It’s just that there is a piece of Lady Kagome that you could never be rid of.” The half-demon squinted, his steeped ire pacified but not peacefully. Miroku inhaled theatrically, placing one hand on his hip and pointing his shakujo in an accusatory manner. InuYasha stepped back, eyes widening. Miroku leaned forward, revealing Gyokuto’s black hair from over his shoulder. “InuYasha, sit!”

“Ah!” InuYasha was instantly squashing his ears at the command, waiting to be slammed into the dirt. He never fell. A shiver sprinted up and down his spine all while Miroku laughed hysterically at his expense. The monk was doubled over, hands holding tightly to his dumb knees. “You bastard!” InuYasha roared, his fist already in the perfect position to whack some sense into that cheap excuse of a holy man. But then two big, brown eyes and cheeks that were way too round filled his vision and InuYasha stopped. Stupid monk with his stupid children and his stupid wife.

InuYasha was grumbling, sounds not forming words; thoughts running into dead ends. And then those thoughts were drowned out, consumed by the sound of his pulse, and InuYasha decided to share it. “I keep this!” He closed his eyes and held out a yellow book that read High School Mathematics: Quick Solutions to All Problems.

“Oh, so you did steal something of Lady Kagome’s,” Miroku responded, walking up to inspect the item.

“Uh, yeah. Wait, I didn’t steal it from her bag, I borrowed it from her house way before we met you lot.”

“Is that one of her school things?” Sango inquired, already mere centimeters from InuYasha. He didn’t remember her being that fast.

InuYasha shrugged. “Dunno, Myoga thought it had spells in it.”

“And you never gave it back?” Miroku asked, a whimsical smirk settling into place. InuYasha wanted to gag. “That would make it a stolen good.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s it to you?”

Miroku took the book from InuYasha, flipping through its pages. Some of them turned in chunks, demon guts and rainy weather having seeped through his robe at some point or another. “It’s weathered; surely Lady Kagome wouldn’t treat her belongings this way.”

“Hey, give that back!” InuYasha objected, attempting to swipe it. Miroku swerved, continuing to review the material like he knew exactly how it read. “I just forgot about it is all.” He was lying.

“I hope it wasn’t important. You know how upset Kagome gets about school,” Sango commented, her shoulders bouncing Kin’u lightly.

“She never said nothing to me about it,” InuYasha brushed off with a shrug, an odd pining for Kagome’s shrill nagging manifesting itself as plain as day. Miroku showed the book to Gyokuto, and she lifted a chubby arm out, her moist palm slamming onto one of the pages. “H-hey! Don’t let your kid touch that, it’s mine!”

Miroku ignored InuYasha completely, a warm expression gracing his features as he let his daughter continue her smacking. “Gyokuto, one day Papa will teach you how to read and maybe you’ll understand this.”

“Good luck, even I can’t make heads or tails of it,” InuYasha said, reaching out and successfully getting it back. The abrupt motion must have surprised Gyokuto because she began crying, and it didn’t take long for Kin’u to join in, and InuYasha let out another groan. This was all too much.

“Aw, I’m sorry, girls. Did the big dog startle you?”

“Whatever, let’s go,” InuYasha grunted, stomping ahead of the family once more.

The red of his robe leaked through to his vision and singed his cheeks. This conversation should never have happened; he shouldn’t have acknowledged that towel and he shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over the sit.

“InuYasha, slow down!” He ignored the request, feeling as if steam shot from his nostrils. He had half a mind to make a break for it, already far past his limit. “Come on,” Miroku all but pleaded.

“What!? What is it that you want now?” The half-demon barked, shoving Kagome’s book back into his robes.

InuYasha couldn’t explain why he’d waited for the two. Miroku’s expression was squared into a place that InuYasha wanted to keep his distance from. It looked like he was about to spout shit straight from the Buddha. “My friend, please understand.”

“Understand what, exactly?”

Piercing deep indigo clashed against flurrying amber.

“That we inhale and must consequently exhale, never experiencing the same breath twice. This is also true for those we meet on our path to enlightenment. They too must leave without returning, but the life they’ve given us can be appreciated long after we’ve breathed anew.” A single bushy brow rose at the analogy. Miroku cleared his throat, continuing, “Lady Kagome may be in her world, but she has managed to keep a part of herself here nonetheless. Through towels or books, my friend, she is with us and we should value that.” He patted InuYasha, right where Kagome’s book lay underneath layers of fire rat.

-X-

• “i know better, but I still feel you all around. i know better, but you’re still around.” -taylor swift, “marjorie” •

#hanmajo writes #about InuYasha!#and his family #some in the past and others in the future #sometimes it be like that #InuYasha #InuYasha fanfiction #InuKag #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #MirSan #Miroku #Sango #Kin’u #Gyokuto #Three Year Seperation

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

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The Jilted Tourist - 1

A/N: Hi friends! Just sneaking in here at an ungodly hour to drop off this first part of the first one of the title game winners! This one kicks off a three part prequel to everything that has happened for Benjamin and the It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like... and Too Good To Be True Reader, and it takes a look at what is essentially the beginning of the end for Benj and Julia. Benjamin’s just gotten some bad news and decides to get a drink to take the edge off. But his plans change when he bumps into someone who’s had an equally bad day, and one drink turns into a few more.

Word Count: 4,187

Warnings: drinking, swearing, pub stuff.

Benjamin silenced his phone and sighed as its weight slid down into the bottom of his coat pocket. I know I shouldn’t be surprised… He used that hand to remove the glasses from the top of his head. Pinching one arm between his thumb and forefinger, he swung them down to comb the rest of his fingers through his hair. I guess… With a shove, he returned his glasses to his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as it wrinkled with a sniff. I guess I’m not.

Heading towards the staircase, he tossed the small bouquet he was holding into a trash bin. Stupid. Though the weekend had been planned as a celebration of Benjamin finishing his first year of graduate school, he’d wanted to give her something as a way to thank her for her support, to show her that he cared, that he he was always thinking of her, even when his nose was in a book or he spent an entire evening writing a paper. As a way to show you that you were wrong. Recently, Julia had told him that he only ever gave her flowers when he was apologizing for something. But I’m sure this will turn into something I’ll have to apologize for. Maybe this time I’ll skip the flowers.

He winced as he reached for the handrail and started climbing the stairs, immediately feeling guilty for being spiteful. That’s not helpful. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure that flowers, no matter what the occasion, were helpful either. Though the last few weeks had been good ones, he and Julia spending a decent amount of time together on days when he didn’t have classes or study sessions, it gnawed at Benjamin that he had to mark time between arguments in such short increments. Maybe she feels like I only bring her flowers when she’s upset with me but… He reached the top of the staircase and suddenly the idea of going back to an empty hotel room felt like the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe it’s because she’s always upset with me.

A loud, raucous cheer went up then as he followed the foot traffic at the top of the stairs, passing a crowded sports bar packed with patrons wearing kits and scarves supporting Brentford. The team had been making a run at the Premier League, and suddenly everyone had been swept up in their underdog story, following along and becoming inadvertent fans. Not where I want to be right now. He continued on, passing small shops and cafes until he found another pub, this one much quieter and less crowded. There, that looks more my speed, just want to get a pint and-

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a couple reuniting on the platform below, arms flying around one another. They look happy. He felt a half-hearted smile lift one cheek, but it fell as he found himself thinking that the likelihood of Julia greeting him with that much enthusiasm when she arrived in London tomorrow was slim. If she arrives tomorrow. He shook his head and turned away from the platform and back to the smaller, less populated bar. I need to get that pint.

Stepping out of the bright light of Waterloo’s main terminal and through the arched doorway of the small, dimly lit pub, he blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting. It’s just one night that she’ll miss, we have the room all weekend. I shouldn’t let it… With another hefty sigh, he unbuttoned his coat. He didn’t want to be upset that his wife had stood him up on the first night of their getaway. He wanted to believe that there was still some way to salvage the trip. She knows how important working towards this degree is to me, maybe tomorrow she’ll… But he was tired of breathing life into his hopes only to have them slashed and soured. We’ll see about tomorrow tomorrow. Glancing at the few people gathered around the bar rail, he chose to avoid the cluster of chatty looking middle aged men, instead finding a spot near a young woman sitting alone with her phone in one hand, the other wrapped around a nearly empty pint glass. She seemed the lesser of the two evils, and since Julia wasn’t there to create her own version of why he chose to sit where he did, he pulled out a stool that was two down from where she sat.

The bartender shuffled over and raised an eyebrow, reaching for a mug from the shelf below the bar counter. “The Tyne Bank, please.” Benjamin indicated the tap handle of the beer he ordered as he sank into his chair. “Thanks mate,” he sighed as the drink appeared in front of him, pulling out his wallet to hand over his card. “Open a tab, would you?” Wordlessly, the balding, apathetic man took it and nodded, already turning away in the direction of the post he’d been leaning on prior to pouring Benjamin’s drink. Don’t know how long I’ll stay but… He pushed two fingers up under the left lens of his glasses, pressing them into his closed eyelid before rubbing them down and out from underneath. Damn it, Julia, this was-

“Opening a tab at a commuter bar, huh?” He looked immediately in the direction of the woman two stools down, her slightly slurred accent hitting his ear. American. Her eyes were glued to the rim of her glass, watching her own pointer finger trace around the edge to create a high-pitched squeaking sound. “You must be having a day.” You could say that. She looked up, pulling her fingers from the glass so that she could wrap them around it to drain the contents. She was younger than he first thought, no more than 24 or 25 if he had to guess. She’s Leo’s age.

He noticed that her eyes looked red and puffy when she swung them over to him, and not just from the alcohol. She’s been crying. He picked up his glass and nodded. “Suppose I have been.” Bringing his glass the rest of the way to his lips, he took a sip and let the coppery colored ale coat his tongue before swallowing it down.

“Well then, you sir, have chosen the right seat because this end of the bar-” she flipped her hair over her shoulder in a dramatic fashion, like a matador might flourish their cape, and used the same finger she’d been tracing around her glass to point down at the wooden bartop. “Is for tying one on.” Lifting her hand from where she’d just pointed, she waved the bartender down to order another drink, the man huffing audibly at the fact that he had to move again.

Benjamin set his glass down and cocked his head to the side as the bartender grumbled under his breath, something along the lines of ‘she couldn’tve ordered when this bloke did, of course she couldn’t.’ The young woman either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care, and Benjamin had a sneaking suspicion that it was the latter. Once he’d slid the woman her beverage, the bartender looked pointedly at Benjamin, even though he’d only taken one sip that hardly even cracked the foam. “I’m fine,” he assured the man, who was only getting less hospitable by the moment, before turning to face her. “Not trying to get too tanked up here, just,” he sighed as she picked up her glass, pausing before bringing it to her lips. Just what? What are you doing, Benjamin? And why are you talking to a stranger about it? He shook his head. “Just wanted to take the edge off.”

“Well, that makes one of us.” She held her glass out and it took Benjamin a few seconds to realize that she was waiting for him to clink his against it. He blinked a few times before picking up his pint glass and tapping it to hers. “To me getting tanked up, and to you...well, not.” She blew out a breath in a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head.

That was a terrible toast. His mind flashed back to the one he’d delivered at his and Julia’s wedding- how hard he’d worked on it, how he’d practiced in the mirror for days before rehearsing it the morning off, how he felt invincibly bolstered by the love that he had for the woman he was pouring his heart out to. Good toasts don’t guarantee anything though.

“Cheers,” he responded as she took a large swig, her left hand combing her hair back out of her face as she drank. A falsely hearty sounding round of laughter rose from the opposite end of the long, straight rail, and even though it didn’t seem as though he would be granted the quiet drink he wanted, he was glad he had stayed away from whatever that was. “So,” he set his glass back down as he cleared his throat. “You had a-”

Her phone started vibrating on the bartop next to her glass, and Benjamin couldn’t help but notice the contact photo when the screen lit up. “Shit.” She picked it up and fumbled with the buttons on the side, her fingers not completely in compliance with the task at hand. “Fuck you, Eddie,” she mumbled as it buzzed again in her palm before she slid the bar across the bottom of the screen to shut it down.

Benjamin returned his eyes to his drink, trying to pretend that he hadn’t just seen a photo of the woman next to him laying a fat kiss to a smiling young man’s cheek and the name Edmund accompanied by a string of heart shaped emojis flash on her phone before she struggled to turn it off. I’ve got enough on my own plate to figure out, I should just finish this drink and head back to the ho-

“Damn it, sorry that was…” She reached behind her for the purse that was hanging on the back of her stool, grabbing the strap to pull it into her lap before jamming her phone into it. “Just my-”

Benjamin leaned over the empty seat next to him. “It’s fine, you don’t have to-”

She let go of her purse and slid from her stool onto the one next to it, leaving only one between them now. Oh, no, that’s… Benjamin straightened back up and seized his glass, but she didn’t come any closer, only reaching for her own glass to scoot it over in front of her new position. “No, I meant to turn the damn thing off anyway because I do not want to hear from him tonight...or…” she groaned into her pint. “Ever.” The last word echoed against the glass before she cut herself off by filling her mouth with liquid.

So I guess I’m not the only one having trouble in paradise tonight. He frowned, looking down at his left hand and the wedding band he’d been so eager to earn. I love her, I know I do, but she… He closed his eyes and took a drink, swallowing slowly. Does she? Benjamin curled his hand into a fist, until his knuckles blocked his ring from view. Stop. Don’t...not here. He flattened his palm back, eyes still on the gold band around his third finger. Not now.

“Oh, hey, you don’t have to worry about-” Huh? The woman laughed under her breath as she angled herself away from him. He looked up to see her motioning towards his flattened hand. “I saw you looking at your ring. You’re married.” She used one hand like a blade to cut a straight horizontal line through the air. “I get it, and anyway I’m not…” Her head shook from side to side, face tilting downwards as she picked up her glass again. She wasn’t kidding about...what did she say? Tying one on? “I’m not trying to flirt with you or anything I just-” Another little snort of laughter interrupted her sentence and she used the pause to take a drink. “Literally, just, broke up with one of you English assholes and I’m-” Benjamin raised one eyebrow, adjusting his glasses with a shove to the rim. “Shit, I don’t mean you’re an...ugh.”

The laugh was out of his mouth before he had time to question where it came from. It was small, not enough to lift him out of what he was feeling, but it wasn’t forced. “You never know, I might be one.” She picked her head up and gave him a gracious smile. “And anyway, on behalf of all of us,” he gestured around the bar with his glass. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with your boyfriend.”

Sighing, she let her shoulders drop as she sunk back into her stool. “Yeah, thanks.” Tilting her glass around, she swirled the half-empty contents, watching the foam cling to the sides and then run down them. “I’m sorry you’re having a shit day too.”

“Yeah,” Benjamin looked down his nose into his glass. It didn’t start out terribly, it was actually… He blinked and downed the rest of his glass. “Thanks.” I should go.

“I’m Jocelyn, by the way. Joss, really.” She spread her fingers to push her hair back before twisting to retrieve her purse again. Digging through, she pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Figure I should introduce myself, if we’re going to sit here drinking our woes away together.”

Looking down at the square shaped card he read the purple print. Jocelyn Hall, Copyeditor, R.J. Tully & Associates. Huh, what are the odds? He set her card down and reached for his wallet, pulling out one of his own. “I started out as an editor, too. I’m only part-time because I’m back in school, but they have me writing copy now. Big move.” He rolled his eyes and handed over his own card. “I’m Benjamin.” Jocelyn read his card over before flicking it against her thumb. “It’s nice to meet you, Joss, though I wish it were under better circumstances for… well for either of us.”

She laughed, turning to stuff his card in her purse before letting it swing back around the stool again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Benjamin.” When she turned back to him again, her eyes, though still puffy, looked less sad. Good. “But you know who’s having a worse night than either of us?” Well, we both had to turn off our phones because we’re avoiding people, so… She jerked her head in the direction of the bartender. “This guy really hates his job.”

With that she stood on the rung below her stool and waved the bartender over. His humph and trudge illustrated what she’d just said, and Benjamin felt a small smile form. Joss swallowed what was left of her drink before the man had finished his long and arduous journey down to their end of the bar, then pointed at Benjamin’s empty glass. “Can I buy you another beer and tell you about my shitty day, Benjamin? Or you can tell me about yours, or,” she blew out a breath. “Or fuck, we can talk about copywriting if you really want, it’s just that I’m not…” She was speaking more quickly, her words tumbling out as the bartender finally reached them. “Not ready to go back to an empty hotel room just yet and-”

“You want somethin’ girlie?” The man’s gruff voice cut her off as he leaned over the bar, his knobby knuckles gripping the curved edge.

Benjamin’s palms were sweating and a warning jolt went through his stomach. What would Julia have to say about me accepting this drink? It was a rhetorical question to himself, and even though Jocelyn had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him- and I’m not… I love my wife, I’m not interested in this woman- he knew that if Julia were there she’d be plenty busy making up her own version of things. But she’s not here. She chose not to be. He noticed Jocelyn’s face falling as she nodded, reaching again for her purse, and he narrowed his eyes. Piss it. “Yeah, set us up again would you, mate? On my tab.”

Jocelyn smiled, letting go of her purse strap again, letting the small bag swing. “That was supposed to be on me.” I know. She leaned her elbow on the bar, setting her chin in her hand. “Thank you,” she said it as the bartender set her drink in front of her, though her eyes were on Benjamin. “For sticking around I mean, I just…” The gruff, wrinkled man passed Benjamin his ale before responding to the waves and calls of the men at the other end of the bar, grumbling as he headed in their direction. “I…” She pressed her lips together, running her fingers up and down the outside of her glass.

“Hey,” Benjamin lifted his glass. I get it. “My most thrilling copywriting story is about the time I had to write nine thousand words on mattresses in twenty four hours,” Jocelyn blew air through her nostrils in a laugh as Benjamin took a drink. “But if you want I can try to remember which ones were rated best.” But that’s not what she wants to talk about, is it? “Unless you just want to...talk about your day.”

She hummed, picking up her glass to take a sip. “I don’t want to,” she sighed and settled against the backrest of her stool, drawing one foot up to the seat so her shin was pressed to the edge of the bar rail. “But, I have been sitting here drinking for hours, and I have yet to say the words out loud.” Looking down into her drink, she took a breath before bringing her glass to her lips for another long swallow. “So,” she placed her glass back on the bartop and spread her arms wide, fingertips nearly brushing Benjamin’s shoulder. “Here goes. Today, I, Jocelyn Hall, boarded a plane in Washington D.C. and crossed the fucking Atlantic Ocean to visit my boyfriend in London, only to find him fucking some other woman.” Benjamin winced, sucking air through his teeth. That’s awful. Jocelyn took another big swig, clearing nearly half of her glass before Benjamin had had his second sip. “And you, Benjamin,” she pointed at him, finger swaying, “are the first person I’ve told.

Damn. He recalled the way it had felt when Allie had delivered the double blow to his heart that not only did she not want to marry him, but that she’d fallen in love with someone else. That betrayal was unlike anything he’d ever felt prior, and he handled it about as well as Jocelyn was handling things. “That’s terrible, what a prick.”

“You know, I never thought he was a prick.” Of course you didn’t, that’s why you were with him. “I thought he was,” she rolled her eyes and groaned at herself, one hand going to her head. “I thought Eddie was perfect.” She scoffed. “Stupid.”

Benjamin shook his head. “It isn’t stupid to want to see the good in people.” He raised his eyebrows and brought his glass to his mouth. “Especially the person you’re with.” He let another mouthful of ale slide down his throat. Julia has so much good in her. I saw it right away, but now its… He sighed.

“All my friends told me this would happen,” she reasoned, wrapping both hands around the base of her glass, condensation dripping over her knuckles. “They all warned me, when Eddie and I met, and,” she tilted her head, eyes widening. “They were right.”

“They couldn’t have known- you, you couldn’t have known when you met him that things would turn out this way though.” He tried to console her with the fact that there was no real way to prepare for the unknown; that Jocelyn or her friends couldn’t have possibly foreseen that Eddie would cheat on her. That I couldn’t see that Julia would push me aside. He shook his head and rubbed on hand over the top of his hair. Change the subject. “How did, um… how did you two mee then?” Shit, she might not want to- “I mean, only if you want to tell me, it’s-”

“We met while we were both spending a semester abroad in Florence.” Another eye roll. “We both accidentally signed up for a class that we thought was Italian, but it was actually Italian Literature, taught entirely in a language that neither of us spoke and,” she gestured with one hand while the other held her glass. “Well, we were able to transfer out of it, but we hit it off and started spending time together. A lot of time, all our time. Looking back on it now I...well,” she tapped the nail of her pointer finger on her glass. “It happened too fast, got... “ she made a sudden swiping motion. “Swept up in it I guess.”

Yeah, that tends to happen. He knew how easy it was to let the current carry you away once those first few feelings started swirling, especially when the circumstances were right. “Still, that doesn’t mean that you should have been able to predict that…”

“Our entire relationship was like a vacation, Benjamin, that should have been a clue. I mean,” she sniffed. “Weekend getaways in Vienna and Barcelona. Going here, seeing this, doing that.” She ticked her words off on her fingers. “Before the semester was even up we were already making plans to visit one another at home. He came over to the U.S. and stayed with me for ten days and it was great. It was a great ten days, but again, it wasn’t real life.”

Like Julia and I. The thought made his mouth go dry but the beer he tried to drink only caused him to choke, coughing and covering his mouth with his hand. In the beginning of their relationship they’d holed themselves up in hotel rooms, ordering room service and visiting tourist sights. It was so easy.

“But the crown jewel in this story,” Jocelyn smacked her palm down on the bartop causing Benjamin to snap his attention back to her. “Was me deciding to surprise Eddie by getting here three days earlier than we’d planned, and him deciding to surprise me by banging some redhead.” He frowned. Why do people cheat? I’ll never understand it. She sniffed again. “So, surprise. My friends were right, and I’m an idiot.” Her eyes were starting to shine again, and she snorted into her glass. “A drunk idiot.”

“You’re not.” She looked at him incredulously. “An idiot, I mean.” You’re definitely drunk. He put his glass down and leaned his forearms on the bar. “You dove in, really gave it a go. Now this Eddie? He sounds like an idiot if you ask me.” He licked his lips and scrubbed one hand over his beard. “It’s not stupid to trust people or to...to fall for someone.” Am I trying to make her feel better or myself? He sighed. “It’s shitty. It’s a shitty thing that he did to you and I’m…” I’m an expert at shitty things happening so I know what I’m talking about. “I’m sorry that it happened to you.”

Joss smiled sadly, but nodded and wiped her knuckle under her eye. “Thanks, Benjamin, that’s…” She let out a breath. “I appreciate you listening to me and trying to...just, thank you. It felt good to get that all off my chest I guess.” I’m sure. Since he married Julia he had been spending less and less time with friends like Bianca and Zach, and the few classmates he’d spoke with over the last year were no substitute, so he’d had no one to really talk to about the perceived problems in his marriage. He was glad that he was able to be a set of ears for Jocelyn to vent to.

“You know, I am about as far away from sage council as you could probably get, but if it’ll make you feel better to talk about your shitty day, we can put the next round on my tab.” A few more patrons had shuffled in since he’d sat down that Benjamin hadn’t noticed until he’d looked up at Joss’ alcohol and emotion flushed face. I shouldn’t… But why shouldn’t I? He asked himself the question almost immediately, knowing fully that his only intention in talking to Jocelyn was conversation and possibly some mutual empathy, nothing more.

He finished the rest of his drink and stood from his stool. “Alright,” he agreed. “But I’m going to step out for a smoke.” Joss made a scrunched face and he chuckled. “I know, bad habit, I’m trying to quit. But… yeah. Grab another round. I’ll be right back.”

“Great,” she stood to flag down the bartender. “Misery loves company.”

@something-tofightfor�� @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @malionnes @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @becs-bunker @warriorqueenofnarnia @elanor-of-imladris @traeumerinwitzhelden @obscurilicious @octosapiens @luminex3 @songtoyou @with1love1anu @dearmarii @pheedraws @valkblue @alraedesigns @fific7

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#the jilted tourist #benjamin greene #benjamin greene gold digger #benjamin greene x julia day #ew gross i gagged typing that last tag #benj meets joss #tgtbt benjamin #benjamin greene fanfic #title game #400 foreal?!

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uwua3 · 5 years ago

Note

yoohoo!! may i ask for some soft hcs of tenma and his s/o on a summer night? thank u n ily 🥺💕

MELELELELELEL 🥺 i,,, i Love You. of course i will write this for you because i Love You ♡ I LOVE YOUUUUUUUU 🥺🥺🥺

summary: school’s out! that means a beach day with your boyfriend, tenma!

author’s note: everyone go check out nervwrecked right now she’s the Funniest Person on the Planet i promise you!!! she is the best i love her so much ♡ this turned more into a beach day into night hc so i hope you don’t mind, mel !!!

Tenma Tenma Tenma Tenma Tenma. that was my entire thought process, i just love beach!tenma so much and i went a little crazy. sorry about that~ tenma has such a specific, chaotic energy to me and i had to write about it

word count: 3,632

music: lightning in a bottle – the summer set (please mel this is the most perfect song ever, you’d love it!)

summer nights.

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

school was out and life never felt so good!

the moment that last bell rang, tenma sprinted outside of the academy with his emerald green uniform blazer flying behind him

“freedom! no more school!” tenma shouted into the horizon, ignoring the judgemental looks he got from students who were, you know, leaving normally

“tenma! wait up!” you sprinted after him, jumping onto his back as tenma instinctually caught you with his arms supporting your legs around his waist

(you did this so much, he started purposely turning his back towards you so he could catch you)

looking over his shoulder, tenma grinned as he adjusted his grip and started heading out to the sidewalk to walk home

“how was your day?” tenma asked, feeling you hum as you rested your head against his shoulder. tenma almost tripped over nothing, his cheeks burning as he averted his eyes to the clear, sunny blue sky

“okay, better now i have my boyfriend to carry me wherever i want.” you held onto his dress shirt loosely, your nose fitting perfectly with the curve of his neck. he smelled sweaty, he obviously tried way too hard in gym and it showed

tenma grinned, pretending to yawn as he lightly loosened his hold, making you slip down out of no where as you squeaked, tightly holding onto his shoulders

“my bad, sunshine. seems like i’m a bit rusty at piggyback rides.” tenma nonchalantly teased, but tensed when he felt you freeze against his back. did he say something wrong?

tenma puffed out one cheek, wondering if he should push aside his pride and apologize before you reached over and pinched his cheek, smiling sweetly

“sunshine?” you watched as tenma’s face turned red and he nudged your hands off. tenma huffed, wanting to die and fall into a black hole on the street so bad. he could say he didn’t mean it—

“i like it.” you whispered, returning your head on his shoulder. you couldn’t stop smiling; tenma was so precious even if he acted like he was some hotshot. tenma was just so cute when he acted like he didn’t care about romance (he did, very much. he tried very hard)

“it’s been so sunny recently, too. i miss going to the beach.” you mumbled, absentmindedly playing with his tie. you two reached the part of town with plenty of trees, providing shadows to cool down from the summer heat

tenma slowed down by the vending machine, popping in a coin to pass you your favorite drink. you couldn’t see his face, but you knew it was blushing as his hand slightly shook passing you the can

(he remembered, how cute)

“let’s go then.” tenma coughed into his arm, rushing the words so they were hard to hear. you tilted your head, staring at his face as he stared directly ahead of him. tenma pressed a button at the crosswalk, waiting for the walkimg light to let him pass

“what?” you asked, pretending like you didn’t hear him the first time just to poke fun at his shyness. tenma kicked at a stone beneath his shoe, rolling his eyes as he looked at your shit–eating grin

“you heard me the first time. we can go now if you want.” tenma raised his eyebrow, knowing he had you hook, line, and sinker. the predicament was perfect: there was no more homework to keep you both up stressed, no more finals to cram for, and certainly no more classes keeping you guys apart. it was time to catch up on all those dates you missed from school events

“have i told you you’re the most perfect man ever?” you teased, but genuinely laughed when his face got even redder. of course, child star tenma, who got compliments and praise everyday couldn’t handle it when you said something nice. it was endearing to see what an effect you had on him

“shut up.” he muttered, letting you down gently as he phoned his private driver an update to his plans

you sat down on the bench, innocently drinking your drink as you glanced around at the sunlight streaming through the leaves

(tenma mid–conversation blanked, turning to see you completely at peace. he softly smiled, admiring the way you glowed in the summer sun before his driver called his name, making him jump slightly before stammering back a quick response)

(you caught his eye and you both tried your hardest not to laugh like two crazy teens in love)

you arrived at the beach with excitement to match your beloved boyfriend’s rare enthusiasm

(tenma kept asking if they were there yet, backing down when he noticed his driver send him a sharp glare. he leaned on you for reassurance, pouting like a little kid)

tenma wore his classic pair of oversized sunglasses that did nothing to hide his identity, passing you your own, from the trunk

(yes, you even had matching ones! he had bought them one day after throwing a whole tantrum about losing them. when they arrived, tenma acted like he just found his “lost” pair when in reality, he just liked matching with you)

(he’d never admit it, though. no matter how much evidence you had against him, he was a stubborn soul)

in case of long rides, you two liked singing your heart out to the top 50 songs on the radio. the driver always turned it up so he could block out tenma’s terrible attempts at hitting the high notes as you hyped him up

(yes, it hurt your ears. but you were just as bad just to make him hold his stomach, hunched over laughing and wheezing)

this time, you two fought to see who would get out of the car the fastest just because. you made a rule to wait until the driver completely stopped the vehicle at the beach’s frontier

“i don’t want you to die on our beach date, tenma!” you reasoned, seeing him internally malfunction from realizing it was really a date

(he agreed, like immediately)

(“you’re so right.” tenma said, like he wasn’t aware of his own actions and nodded very, very seriously)

“alright kids, we’re here—” the driver started before both of you immediately lunged for the car handle like 5–year–olds. screw the rules!

“last one to get out is a loser!” you yelled, trying to open the door before you felt your window hit something very tenma–like

“why?!” tenma yelled as he fell back onto the fence, pretending to pass away as he stuck his tongue out, laying his arm across his forehead

“leave me here... don’t look back... even though you’re a loser for getting out last.” he choked out, coughing for the dramatic effect. all he got was a kick in the shin

(“ow! will you do this when i get best lead actor?!”)

“come on winner, time to not embarrass me in public.” you joked, pulling him up by his jacket collar and—oh. you frowned, looking down at your own uniform

“tenma.” you said carefully, watching as he owlishly blinked up at you. this kid was seriously the embodiment of “no thoughts, head empty”

“yeah?”

“we’re still in our school clothes.”

tenma quickly grimanced, letting out a very loud “ew!” as he shook off his blazer and threw it behind him without thinking. it tumbled into the sand dunes, rolling away

“and that’s for making me feel stupid, school!” tenma yelled, standing proudly on top of the stone ledge as you slapped your forehead. this kid...

“tenma... you still need that for next year.”

(you two had to spend five minutes running after a blazer that seemed to have a mind of its own. tenma winced when he pulled it out of the ocean and it dripped with sea water. his parents weren’t gonna be happy)

(you didn’t have the heart to point out his wet pants as well)

you two came to an overpriced beach shack as you thumbed through hawaiian–themed dad shirts and revealing swimwear. you decided to choose something for tenma, finding the most questionable denim jacket that would fit tenma’s taste perfectly

you snuck behind him, about to give him the biggest scare of his life before you saw a flashy shirt in his hand. tenma seemed to have the most oblivious face ever, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked over the design

(he was holding two shirts and you realized it was in the couples’ section)

“would they like this? maybe i’m being gross...” tenma sighed, about to put the shirt back before you tapped his arm, holding the denim jacket in front of your face

“ta–da! we can match!” you cheered, knowing you would wear this very peculiar jacket if it meant tenma would be happy

(it did. his entire face lit up like it was christmas in july)

“yeah! i mean, yeah.” tenma lowered his voice, clearing his throat as he debated between showing the shirts before tossing one to you like it was the most coincidental thing in the world

“i mean, only because you want to.” tenma pretended like he didn’t care, but only looked away when you didn’t buy it

you shrugged, tucking the clothes under your arm as you gestured towards the mannequins wearing snapbacks

(tenma loved snapbacks)

“oh? you don’t want to? i thought maybe we could’ve gotten matching snapbacks but...” you were about to head to another display before he grabbed your shoulder, his eyes wide and face about to have a breakdown from admitting his own feelings

“don’t make me say it...” tenma begged, but you weren’t backing down, just smiled as he dramatically refused to say what he wanted and went to go retrieve two snapbacks without another word

you two went in opposite changing rooms and he came out first, smacking the beach hut door against the wall loudly as he struck a runway–worthy pose

he looked ridiculous. the denim jacket was luckily thin so it was breathable, the patches were just too loud and had so many out of date slang terms that were only popular in 60s america. the shirt was white with a neon rainbow palm tree with a wave and the snapback had a rim around it like a hula skirt. it was very fun in the sun

tenma was about to complain about how much he looked like an idiot and you had no fashion sense before you stepped out, and he was breathless

you looked just as dumb, maybe even more, but the fact you two were matching was enough for tenma

(tenma didn’t even say anything. he just stared, came back to his senses, and quickly shuffled to the cashier)

(he paid willingly. your jaw dropped. he didn’t even flinch when he heard the price)

you two strode out onto the sand confidently. seconds later tenma started hopping up and down

“why is the sand so hot?!” tenma yelped, forgetting he was wearing sandals in deep sand as repeated, “ouch. ouch. ouch.”

you sighed. he was such a big baby

you moved closer until you swept him over your shoulder, carrying him fireman–style with ease as you marched through the sand to an available umbrella the driver reserved in advance

tenma recovered from his moment of shock before he started smacking your back lightly, kicking his legs wildly

“let me down!!! i can walk!” tenma tried to roll off, but you just laughed. better this than hear him complain the entire walk over

you suddenly noticed the ocean that wasn’t very far away

you tried to walk normally to avoid suspicion, but tenma started connecting the dots when he saw the umbrella and towels in his view

why were you were going further away?

“hey, isn’t that—” tenma got cut off by a loud splash! as he quickly resurfaced, a defiant determination to his face for a split second before he faked a convincing frown

(you were doubled over losing your mind, unable to believe he fell for it)

“sunshine~ it’s so cold, help me!” tenma whined, reaching his arm out as he pretended to shiver. you paused, considering your options before you sighed (you definitely didn’t do it because of the endearment). you swam out a little more, putting your hand out. tenma grabbed your wrist with vengence

splash!

now both of you were in the ocean as you gasped in air, about to accuse him of tricking you before more water splashed in your face

tenma swam across from you, his snapback at the coast and denim jacket very heavy now

“tenma. stop.” you warned but more water hit your face, again

he watched you with a mischevious grin, you wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face

you smiled, moving in closer as tenma’s breath hitched, your lips just inches away before you dunked his head underwater

he pulled you with him, laughing even though he was supposed to use as little oxygen as possible

his hair floated around his head, the bright orange resembling coral and vivid purple eyes gleaming with childish euphoria

(you finally gave him the kiss he deserved when he made a heart with his hands)

(he made a surprised sound and bubbles floated out of his mouth when you pulled away)

(you literally made him speechless)

when you two came back to land, you insisted on drying tenma’s hair as he spluttered, unable to form intelligent words for the life of him

(you dried his hair with a crab towel, liking the way he sighed comfortably and leaned into your touch)

after settling down, you chilled out on the beach chairs with fresh coconuts

(tenma insisted he could crack one open. you didn’t bother telling him they already had holes in them)

lazing about on the beach, you two talked about how awful school was as you ate tropical fruit that came in the bag the driver took out from the back

(tenma denied ever planning a beach date, but you gave him the “really?” face when you held a beach ball up to him)

(he just shrugged, looking at his nails. “i love playing volleyball anywhere, what can i say?”)

it was so relaxing to spend the whole day on the beach! you went looking for seashells and tenma trailed behind you obediently, holding your pail out every time you excitedly yelled “look!” when you found something

(tenma didn’t get the hype, but he tried to match your energy)

tenma liked the sea glass though, proudly showing it off unprompted and believing 100% it came from a secret, undiscovered civilization like atlantis

(tenma must really not pay attention in school if he didn’t know about littering)

you two even had a sandcastle collecting competition! it was clear tenma didn’t know how to make one for the life of him, so you two worked together to create one

(he fantasized about mermaids. when you wrote your name and his at the base of the castle, he swore sirens were real when you sang off–tune a random melody while putting seashells on the sand)

later on in the day, you two were chatting about your plans for the summer as a seagull came up, staring at the bag of chips in your hand

tenma was about to point out the bird (he never noticed them before) before it snatched your chips, happily waddling away with its newfound treasure

before you could even react (or tell tenma this was normal), tenma used his athletic skill to absolutely outrun the seagull, yelling nonsense about rights to food as he nearly jumped onto the seagull

“tenma!” you called his name, wide–eyed as you watched tenma chase a singular seagull around the beach shouting profanities about giving back your chips. yep, that was your boyfriend

(at the end, tenma got them back even though most of them fell out when the seagull tried flying away. tenma caught the seagull with his two hands, holding it tightly as he shook it, demanding it released your chips)

(it didn’t, and tenma had to yank them from the seagull’s beak)

everything after that, went smoothly. definitely a lot more relaxing after witnessing your boyfriend almost fight a seagull in your honor

you guys even had a friendly game of volleyball at the beach’s public net, forcing his driver to be the referee that seemed to be in your favor

(“the ball was totally out!” tenma protested [it was] as you scored the point, leaping up to high–five the driver. stick it to the man!)

(you won with a landslide. you got a double popsicle as a prize, and you split it to offer tenma the other side. it made you smile seeing your favorite orange–haired boy with a popsicle that looked exactly like him)

time passes when you’re having fun! night began to settle in, as you yawned and rubbed your eyes tiredly. you were dozing off in the beach chair, trying your best to stay awake after a long day at school

“tenma, maybe we should go home?” you suggested before you heard two sticks being scraped together. oh no, tenma was up to something again

you weakly opened your eyes, seeing a very frustrated tenma trying to create a fire

“tenma?” you questioned, sitting up from the chair to see a bunch of sticks surrounding your boyfriend who looked just as confused as you were

“uh... i don’t know how to start a bonfire.” tenma admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up, kicking the sticks with no remorse

“that’s okay! we can just head back—” you started but tenma furiously shook his head, very opposed to the idea

“no! i mean... let’s stay a little longer, okay?” he offered no explanation as he tried again, but to no avail. you didn’t know what to do when he kept glancing at his watch and up at the sky

“ok, you know what.” tenma held your hand as he pulled you to the coastline, stopping as the water surrounded your ankles

you were about to ask if he was okay, before a boom! electrified the sky

it was summer, alright. colorful fireworks exploded before you out of no where as you couldn’t help but gape at the sight

(the timing was too convenient)

“you planned this... for me? why?” you were amazed by the fireworks show, wondering how many contacts tenma had to reach out to

your face was illuminated by every color possible, the fireworks reflected in your eyes as tenma stared, wondering how he got so lucky to share his first summer day with you

(tenma would have gotten you fireworks everyday if it meant you were this excited)

you were about to say something, anything to remember the moment before tenma squeezed your hand

“i like you so much.” tenma whispered, staring at the way you impulsively blushed, turning to look back into his eyes

tenma got on one knee

“oh my god...” you were shell–shocked. was tenma proposing? you guys were both still in high school, how would this affect his career? you were about to pull him up before he popped back up with a seashell between his fingers

“look! it’s a big one, too!” tenma shoved the sand dollar in your face. you blinked. and took it out of his hand, flabbergasted

“thank you.” you slowly said, trying to wrap your head around his denseness as he proudly rambled about how he was able to find such a cool seashell

“kidding.” tenma teased, giving you a thin ring with your birthstone in the middle. you froze, staring at the jewelery as he looked up at the sky, listening to the distant booms and wondered how many people were staring up at the same sky

(tenma sneaked a peek at your face. he knew he had the best view, though)

“i saw this and thought of you. maybe it can be our promise ring, to be together.” tenma’s words left his lips hesitantly, ignoring the one thing he wanted to finish with. he wanted to promise to be together, forever

you were about to respond, speechless from the romantic gesture before a rather large wave almost knocked you off balance

you let go of the ring and heard it drop into the ocean as you and tema stared at each other

“um. the promise is still on right?” you asked, nervously laughing as he looked back down at the ocean and up at you

“uh... this kinda ruined the moment, didn’t it?”

(you two bent down immediately, digging through the sand for the ring as the fireworks began to die down. as a firework blew up, tenma breathed a sigh of relief as the ring glinted in the orange light)

(he wouldn’t admit it, but it was very expensive)

he slipped it onto your pointer finger, admiring how your hands perfectly fit his. it was like he was born to be in the ocean with you, watching the summer night sky

tenma was about to say something about how he actually got the ring size right before you pulled him towards you, grabbing his god awful neon palm tree tee shirt. you kissed him under the glow of the last firework of the night

tenma squeezed your hand again, smiling into the kiss as you ran your thumb over the palm of his hand

(if mermaids weren’t real, they were super jealous of him right now, they had to)

(the most beautiful person alive had two legs and was walking on land, and was kissing him! out of all the people!)

you leaned back, savoring the moment as the stars shined above you in the deep blue sky

“sparklers?”

(tenma looked like he was having flashbacks)

“i really like you, but no.”

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

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aureumjeon · 5 years ago

Text

while you’re at it (m) || pjm

pairing; poolboy!jimin x noona!reader.

genre; smut, fluff, tiny angst.

summary; After finalizing your divorce papers, there was still one thing that had to be taken care of. That stupid swimming pool. Over there course of a few days, you ended up harboring feelings for one of your pool boys. Will things go as planned? Or will everything be flushed down the drain?

warnings; brief mentions of divorce, infidelity and toxic relationship, sub!jimin, dom!reader, barely there bondage, exhibitionism, female masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (both receiving), body worship, tit fucking, noona kink, praise kink(its jimin ofc), mild degradation, impreg kink, its basically jimin being a whiny soft baby for noona, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, creampies, cum eating

word count; 11K+ (this was supposed to be around 7-8K only, iduno what happened really)

a/n; ahhhhhh! three minutes late but who careeees. im done, i want to sleep. the smut feels so rushed butill fix it... eventually... lmao, unedited as hell, dont mind the errors... will fix someday. bye

@m0chilattae @ruinedbyjin <33

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Breaking away and cutting ties from your previous and definitely toxic marriage was the best decision you've made bar none. You could no longer stomach the abuse that your now ex-husband had put you through. It was a complete and utter living hell being bound to a man who wasn't who you initially thought he was. Having him crossed out of your life (legally, too) made it a million times easier. It has been exactly seven weeks since you chucked out all of his belongings through the front door. No regrets. And you still didn't want to take notice of the huge elephant in the room — or in the backyard per se. There it sat in the middle of the unkempt grassy area surrounded by leaves and trash, in all of its filthy, disgusting, bacteria and algae infested glory. Your dreaded swimming pool.

You had put-off cleaning it the first week after your separation, saying you're too busy doing this or too preoccupied taking care of that. When in all honesty, you just didn't want to deal with it. You had no goddamn idea how to maintain it. Heck, you didn't even know how to swim. Wonwoo was the main reason why the two of you bought a house that came with it after your wedding. He said he wanted to keep his hobby of swimming alive, understandable since that's where it all began. The two of you met at a university swim meet. You were the designated journalist for that event, assigned to interview all the winners after the competition for the school's paper. Wonwoo bagged the gold medal for the two hundred-meter freestyle, and you interviewed interviewed him and that's where it took off. Everything was running smoothly. One by one every item on your life's checklist got checked-off. After five years of dating, he proposed. A year later you got married and purchased a house together and planned on having children. You even put-off your job as a columnist writer for a high-end magazine company to play out the role of a perfect wife who'd soon take care of her children. You had the ideal life with the ideal husband in an ideal house that any married woman could wish for. You had everything, and in your own little world it was perfect. Until two years into your marriage, everything went into turmoil. Wonwoo suddenly grew cold and insensitive. He didn't answer your calls and text messages whenever he was away. He didn't make love to you the way he used to during your honeymoon phase. And sometimes he would just downright refuse, saying he's too tired and that he wants to sleep instead. You endured and tolerated his behavior for another year, giving him a chance to change his ways. But we all know what happens to second chances, they're wasted. One day, Jihyo sent you a picture of Wonwoo sucking faces with a female swim trainer at the city's public pool. You could not believe it at first, you refused to. Until she sent another image, this one clear as day. It was Wonwoo, positively Wonwoo. You called your older brother Yoongi and told him everything that had happened starting from the day your relationship spiraled into disaster. Like any brother would be; he was furious. He didn't kill the guy though, only gave him a black eye and a broken nose before you threw his belongings out on the pavement. To cut the story short, you found love beside a swimming pool and ultimately gotten your heart broken because of it. When people fall out of love, heart breaks are inevitable. All the more reason as to why you just shoved the idea of cleaning the pool under the rug like small particles of dust and dirt. You just wanted to forget about it, pretend like it didn't exist. If you could only haul that thing out of the ground and throw it out like you did to him, it'd be more painless for you. You took your phone out of your handbag and texted Namjoon. You asked if he still had the number to that all around cleaning service, to which he did, thank god. After saving the number, you called it immediately. Wanting no time to be wasted. "Hello, Good morning! This is Mr. Park of Mr. Park's Cleaning Service, how can we help you?" The bubbly old man chanted his spiel. "Ah, yes, um. This is Y/n Y/l/n, I was wondering if I can avail your services?" "Of course, ma'am!" He chimed, the sound of rustling papers can be heard in the background "What will we have the pleasure of cleaning for you, Ms. Y/l/n?" His tone never changed, still enthusiastic. "Well I have this pool..." You replied quite hesitantly, "And It's been sitting here uncleaned for almost two months." You let out a breathy laugh, fairly embarrassed at your confession. "No problem, Ms. Y/l/n! We've handled worse cases. Two months is nothing! Is it just the pool or would you like us to give your whole yard a fixer-upper?" You sighed in relief. "Y-yes, that would be great! My backyard could use the help, too." "Alrighty then! You don't need to worry about anything! Can I get your contact number and full address Ms. Y/l/n?" Mr. Park sounded like a charming old man, he never judged or asked unnecessary questions, only the ones that needed to be answered. "My number's xxx-xxx-xx and my full address is xxx street, corner xxx at xxx village. When can I expect you to visit, Mr. Park?" "I'll get the boys ready and will be there in about an hour or two to check on the conditions and come up with the most effective strategy. The duration of the process usually takes about three days to a week depending on the situation. It's always better to asses the area first. We'll do the best we can do, Ms. Y/l/n!" You can hear the smile in his voice, never have you encountered someone who's this passionate about his job as much as Mr. Park. "Great! That sounds excellent! Thank you so much Mr. Park! I'll see you later!" "Thank you, too, Ms. Y/l/n! Good bye!" The call ended and you checked the clock. It was a quarter to nine, still a lot of time left before they arrive. You decided to tidy up the place, picking up dirty laundry, washing the dishes, and anything that demanded to be put in its proper place. You accomplished everything in under an hour and decided to lounge around on your couch, still in your black silk nightwear dress that rested a good five inches above your knee. To be fair, you did wake up too early for your liking, and it made you thrice as sluggish than usual. 'Only ten minutes' you reminded yourself because you still needed to shower. Your eyelids felt heavy and the softness of the pillow you were resting your head on didn't help either. 'five more minutes, then it's time to shower, I swear.' Things didn't always go according to plan, of course. You fell asleep.

Your little nap was interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing multiple times, "Ms. Y/l/n?! Is anybody home? This is Mr.Park's Cleaning Service." The man on the other side of the door yelled. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You scramble about you couch only to fall on the floor with a loud thud, "W-wait! Just a minute!" You squealed, heading out to the nearest bathroom to grab your bathrobe and wrap it around your frame. You chugged down and gargled a cup full of mouthwash before spitting it out. "Shit..." You hissed, taming out the fly-aways of your hair and tying it up in a loose bun. Your bangs rested messily on your forehead but you didn't have the pleasure of curling it. So you opted for just sweeping it to the side, making yourself more presentable. "I'm coming!" You yelped, treading to your front door and opening it. The three boys who stood at your doorstep gave you a courteous ninety degree bow. They were wearing those baggy grey work jumpsuits but the sleeveless kind. The boys looked fairly young, with glowing skin and youthful dispositions. They moved back to their upright position and the one in the center greeted, "Good day Ms.---" his eyes widened like saucers, he looked like he had encountered a ghost, and suddenly you were extremely conscious about your disheveled appearance, tucking in stray hairs that dangled around the frame of your face behind your ears. "Ms--" he knew what he wanted to say, it was waiting for its turn to spill out from his suddenly parched mouth. But he couldn't because he was too awe struck at the image of this lovely woman standing before him. They'd done this job a couple hundred times and it was all professional, but this was the first time his heart was completely enamored by a female client. His tongue was undoubtedly caught at the back of his throat and an elbow to his rib by his friend snapped him out of it and transferred him back to reality. "Y/l/n.." He continued, shades of pink trickling his face. "My name is Park Jimin..." "You're Mr. Park?" You giggled, the way your cheeks rounded when you smile matched with your cute dimple almost sent him into the ER due to a cardiac arrest, "You sounded older on the phone." "Uh.. That was my father. I'm just Jimin." He smiled, flustered like a little boy confessing his love for his crush. You beamed at him once more after discovering his name, eyes twinkling more that ever and he caught that. He freaking caught the way your eyes glimmered at him. "If you're just Jimin, then I'm just Y/n." What the hell was that?! You internally screamed at your choice of words, pulling out the non-existent life plug in your head because you wanted to shrivel up like a dehydrated grape desiring to be a raisin and just die. "O-okay, Ms. Y/n.." the way your name rolled so sweetly out of his lips made you shudder, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long, long time spark a flame in the deepest pit of your stomach. You shouldn't be experiencing this urgent sense of infatuation towards a person you only just met, not to mention to someone this young. You reckoned that he was likely five or six years your junior, probably even more. It was a weird sensation. You had no idea where it came from but you were kinda skeptical about the concept of it and where it might lead. Did you hate it? I mean, no, not at all. Were you confused? Most definitely. "This is Jungkook," he gestured to the lad on his left. Jet-black hair, doe eyes, piercings and tattoos, okaaay he's attractive "and this is Taehyung." Your gaze moved to the left, honey brown hair, sultry stare, sharp nose and a chiseled jaw, woah he's attractive too. No wonder Mr. Park's acquiring all the deals in town! His cleaning team is total eye candy. "My dad-- I mean Mr. Park's rheumatoid started acting up a little while ago, that's why he wasn't able to come with us. I hope that's alright with you, Ms. Y/n." There it is again, he said your name again but his voice a little softer this time. He was hoping his father's absence wouldn’t upset you too much. And didn't leave a bad first impression on you. Your name slipping past his lips sent another shock wave throughout your body, faintly stirring up your insides. It took you a good second to reply because you were too busy staring at the way his tongue prodded out of mouth to wet his pink and plump lips. Shit “I-it’s fine..” You gulped, drifting your gaze to your backyard assuming he didn’t see what you just did. “I hope your father feels well soon.” You stepped back a few feet letting the boys with their big tool kits in hand enter. “May we look at the pool, Ms. Y/l/n?” The black haired boy spoke, opening his box of tools and pulling out a smaller black container. “Taehyung and I will do the water testing and everything else while Jimin-hyung here will walk you through the whole process.” “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish!” Taehyung beamed, boxy smile and all. They all did what they said they’d do. Jungkook and Taehyung were handling all sorts of gadgets and gizmo to test the pH balance, chlorine levels and whatever they need to test. Jimin explained everything in meticulous detail, from the tools that they were using to how they’d clean it. You tried listening intently. You really did! But the addictive saccharine tone of his voice had gotten you too worked up. “And that’s about it,” Jimin happily concluded. “We can start cleaning tomorrow if it’s okay with you,” “Y/n?” He asked reluctantly, watching you stare vacuously at him. “Ah-- Yes. You guys can start tomorrow.” You smiled, flustered and red on the face. He was worried for a moment, he thought you found everything he said was boring. Because all honestly, he knew it was. Jimin dropped out of college to support his father with their family business, being the sole son and successor. It was a gamble, most of his friends would say. "Why'd you give up having an education?" or "What if it goes bankrupt?". Those words were frequently thrown around, but he stuck to his gut. Jimin never wanted anything more than maintaining his father's legacy alive. The one that his father and late-mother created and grew from the ground up. "Great! Kook, Tae, how's everything going?" He hollered to his friends who were still tinkering with their devices at the edge of the pool. "Will be done soon! Give us a minute," Taehyung replied, signaling a thumbs-up to his hyung. "Ahhh! That reminds me," You teetered blithely straight to your equally neglected shed that Wonwoo kept all his tools in. "If you need any tools, feel free to--" You tried to pry the door handle open but it wouldn't budge. "Let me get that for you, Ms. Y/n." Jimin insisted, worrying you might hurt yourself. "I'm okay," You assured the boy, solidifying your grip on the handle, and giving one last firm pull that just might do the trick. Jimin was right. Because the moment you exerted more effort into opening the door, the slim strip of metal that was affixed on the wooden surface snapped off and sent you stumbling back a few steps. You shielded your eyes with your hand and just when you thought your sorry ass was about to hit the grass, you felt something or someone, cradle your fall. A small groan from behind startled you, "W-what?" You removed your hands from your face and saw Jimin lying beneath you, hold on to you by your waist."Oh shit!" You shrieked, promptly scooting away from his lap to check if he's hurt somewhere. "J-jimin! Are you okay?!" concern laced your voice. You scanned every inch of his body for any cuts or bruises. While your face unintentionally came too close to his, he felt your warm minty breath dancing on the tip of his cupid's bow, tickling his lips that were mere centimeters away from yours. And the way his left cheek was conveniently purchased in your hand made him feel the heat blossom under his skin, and presumably creep up to his ears too. Wide-eyed and totally red in the face, Jimin hurriedly stood up from where he was planted, not forgetting to help you as well stand up as well. “I’m fine, Ms. Y/n. You don’t have to worry about--” Before the boy could barely finish his sentence, you were already pulling him by the wrist and ushering him back inside the house. He was trying so hard to resist the blush that had been wanting to be set free. “Jungkook, Taehyung!” You waved, calling out their attention. “You can come inside if you’re finished. I’ll tend to Jimin and see if he has any injuries.” “Yes ma’am!” The two boys chuckled, giving Jimin a playful smirk. “Sit down. I’ll go get my first aid kit.” You spoke before scooting towards the direction of your bathroom. The moment you’ve found yourself looking in the mirror in what seems to be the safest place you could’ve been at this moment, you allow all the accumulated steam out. “F-fuck.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally being able to inhale and exhale enough air with your lungs. Every single moment with Jimin feels like there’s something constricting your chest, blocking all possible airways and cutting off the oxygen in your body. “Get it together, Y/n” You scold yourself, looking at the reflection in the bathroom mirror “You are an adult. An adult who will not let a young man fracture the little sanity you have left.”

On your tiptoes, you reached for the small plastic box on the shelf of your bathroom, taking one last determined look in the mirror and declaring, “You got this.” With that, you step out of the enclosed space with your recovered confidence, not looking back. And there he is again, puppy dog eyes lighting up when he saw your figure reappear in his line of vision. “Ms. Y/n.” He smiled, and there you knew how truly fucked up you were. “God, give please give me the strength.” You chanted in your head, “I got the first aid kit. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Was all that you could say.

It has been exactly five days, eight hours and forty-five minutes since Jimin started working on your backyard. Why do you know that? Well, that boy with those galaxies induced eyes, impossible plump lips and unbelievable muscular body had been lurking and finding his way through the deep recesses of your mind, desperately searching for that imaginary finish line.

Every cell in your body was hyper-aware of your surroundings whenever he was near. You’d get chills when you feel his hot breath fanning against the skin of your nape when he’s behind you asking for some kind of permission. A jolt would run down your spine when he says your name like it’s the only name he’d known besides his. And the way an innocent stare from him would ignite a flame in your core, burning like coal inside a furnace during those cold winter nights. You know of his presence; you know how he makes you feel even when you don’t want it and that scares you.

And now you’re here with your overly eager friend who's ready to lay down all her life savings and then some, just to see you finally get laid after that hideous tragedy.

“Gosh, what do I do?” You groaned, massaging your temples. The headache that you experienced the first time you encountered the boy only tripled in magnitude. It was like the soft tissues of your brain decided that it would be best to act like tectonic plates and tear each other apart. No matter how many pain killers you’ve ingested or how early you slept at night, it always comes back the next day, with a vengeance.

“Give in,” she shrugged, taking a sip from her warm cup of tea. “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“The only thing I’m losing right now is my sanity.” You grovelled, wanting to pull out all of your hair from its follicles. “I–” You sighed, voice cracking and tear attempting to fall.“I honestly don’t know what to do.”

She offered you a sympathetic look, consoling you with a hand gently stroking your back. “I know, hun. Wonwoo was a douche bag and your divorce was the absolute worst. But… Look at the bright side,” She nudged you on the shoulder and points a finger westward.

“Now that he’s out of the picture, you’re a free woman now, y/n.” Your friend stated as-a-matter-of-fact, wriggling her perfectly done brows at you. She was right, though. There was nothing holding you back except yourself. The two of you looked beyond the glass sliding doors of your patio and watched the group of young men pull every bone and flex every inch of muscles in their bodies trying to make your backyard look like the way it was before.

“I don’t see anything wrong with flirting with your pool boy now that the ring on you finger is gone,” a small tug of her lips went unseen by you as your gaze was still attached to the blond haired boy whose dusting of sweat seemed to reflect and shimmer under the blazing sunlight like those vampire characters from that teen movie. God, how can someone look that ethereal while raking up the pile leaves in your backyard?

“While you’re at it, seeing that you’re too invested in watching him, play with piles of dead leaves,” your head snapped toward her direction as your cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, “might as well fuck him too.” she grins from ear to ear.

Day eight came faster than you had imagined. The boiling of your insides has simmered down immensely since you've accepted all your feelings like the grown adult that you are. You didn't confess, though, there will be a time for that. Also, you can say you've gotten used to Jimin's presence in the short time you've spent with him. He was kind, sweet, caring and considerate to you 24/7 and you've considered every bit of it endearing. You friend was right. "Give in," she says, so you did and you hope everything will eventually fall into place at the right time. Like usual, jimin and his bunch were outside. They were eighty percent done with the pool and all that's left was the landscaping. One by one, bags of dirt, rocks, sand and all the likes were carried by unfamiliar faces to the back yard through your house. Trails of sand were left on the floor akin to a snail's. "We're really sorry for the mess, miss y/n. Don't worry, we'll clean it up." A new face stood beside Jimin. This one looked more mature than the three boys you're already acquainted with. This was your first time seeing him. Raven hair, brown eyes, a attractive face and shoulders broader than the horizon. Wow. Mr. Park's boys just keep getting hotter and hotter. But there's something oddly familiar about him. Maybe you've met him before? Casually crossed paths as strangers? You can't quite wrap a finger around it. "Y/n, this is Jin-hyung." The fair-haired boy stated. "He's Jungkook's older brother." You gasp, finally it connects "R-really?! No wonder you looked familiar!" You heard the boisterous laugh of the younger brother draw closer and then draped an arm around his brother's shoulder. You habitually thought Jungkook was the tallest in the bunch but now that you've seen his older brother and the way he stands a good two or three inches taller says otherwise. "Sooo, who's more good looking, Noona?" Jungkook asked cheerfully, arching his brows as if coaxing you to choose him. "Hmmm..." You hummed dramatically, crossing your arms with one hand cupping your chin. "I really can't say, Jungkook. Your hyung's pretty handsome." You teased. "Nooooona~!" The youngest whined, flailing his arms around like a child. If you hadn't known their ages, you'd assume that Jungkook's an eighteen year old boy with a baby's face attached to an adult man's body. +Flashback+ You learned that over the course of yesterday's dinner. That day marked the seventh day since the boys worked on you backyard. You decided to treat them to a special samgyupsal dinner since they had been working so hard all day and all afternoon. It was a quarter to five, and the boys were about to call it a day when you call them over enthusiastically. Gesturing them to come inside "Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook!" Their mouths hung wide open when their eyes met with the dining table. A dazzling array of meats, soups, vegetables and side dishes were gloriously scattered on the surface. "Wow, Ms. Y/n!" Taehyung beamed, his boxy smile seemed like it was engraved on his face. "What's the occasion?” "Well, since you boys have been working so hard I decided to arrange a little party for you guys. It's the least I can do." You smile. Taehyung and Jungkook looked like they were about to combust. The fragrance of the food delighted their every senses. You hear a faint growl in the background. "Sorry. That was me." Jungkook confessed, his stomach was now hungrier than before. You all laugh. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" It was like a gun was shot and the race to eat the most food began. You watched them eat heartily, wishing that you had done this sooner to express your gratitude for all the effort the exert. "Aren't you gonna eat, y/n?" You were startled by Jimin voice. You turn to him and receive the look of concern on his face. "I've had my fair share while cooking, if I eat more I feel like I'll throw up." You softly giggled, a shade of pink dusting your cheeks. "And this is all for you." For every little thing he does whether it was deliberately or not, Jimin feels like he's simply digging his own grave. The sound of metal rutting against soil, just a few more digs and he's sure he'll be six feet under. "Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n!" Jungkook called, outstretching his hand like a student asking for his teacher's attention. "Yes, Jungkook? Oh, and you can call me y/n, by the way. No need for 'miss'." Jungkook scratched the back of his neck before answering, "Uhm, I dont think I'm in the position to call you that, ms. Y/n " "What about noona?" Taehyung who sits across Jungkook suggested. "Ms. Y/n really been nice to us, like a big sister. Always making sure we're okay." Sister. You practically forgot about your age gap with these kids. With the five-year difference for Jimin and Taehyung, seven for Jungkook, you really felt like an older sister. It wasn't bad, it was lovely actually. Knowing they see you more than just an ordinary client pinched at your heart. And you perceive them as little brother's you never had. One of them, you wished went beyond that. "Yeah!" The black haired boy exclaimed,"Can we call you noona, ms. y/n???" Jungkook looked like a dog, with his eyes all round and tail raised and wagging about. It must feel so great to be young. "Of-- Of course! You can call me noona!" The two boys cheered in unison. The only one quiet was jimin who sat parallel to you.

"Are you okay jimin?" You asked meekly. "I'm fine." He didn't sound like he was fine. "Is there something wrong?" "Ahh, I--" he was stuttering, "Is it okay if I call you y/n instead?" Your eyes widened, you haven't even drank anything alcohol but your face already feels hotter. "S-sure, Jimin." You tried to change the topic by standing up walking over to the refrigerator. "Since all of you are of legal age." You gradually push open metal door and pull out bottles of soju. "You're the best, noona!" The youngest howled, eager to get his hands on the alcoholic drink. "Just promise me you guys won't drink too much. You still have work tomorrow" Like twins, Jungkook and Taehyung held their hands over their heart and recited, "We promise, noona!" With the magic liquid, conversation started flowing more naturally. You promised not to drink but they insisted, nothing worse than your friends peer-pressuring you. "So, noona, where do you work?" Taehyung questioned. He probably noticed you were always at home. "I'm a writer for Seoul Life Magazine, but I do all my work here at home. I rarely have to go to the office." "Really???!!!" His eyes blew up, Taehyung told you he was a fashion design graduate. You expected this reaction from him so you felt pride in telling him where you work. "Wow, noona!" Jungkook said, "My dad said only those who were absolutely good got to work there." "Stop flattering me," You shyly dismiss his praise. "I was an intern there during my concluding year of college. I worked for about three or four years before I got married." Taehyung did a spit take, spraying water all over poor Jungkook who almost choked on a lettuce leaf. Jimin just sat there, watching you laugh at the two comical boys. He didn't know how to react, his hands suddenly went clammy and he couldn't stop shaking his leg under the table. "M-married?" Jungkook said, still not believing what he's hearing "w-where the h-husband?" He felt out of breath due to that damn piece of leaf. "Are you really married, noona?" Taehyung poked, looking at your ringless finger. "I was," Your smile grew weaker, talking about something it always felt weighty. But they deserved to know, they're helping you heal by dealing with something you'd rather not face. "We got divorced." The room went silent. The sound of the crickets outside and leaves swaying with the wind that were previous white noise behind your chattering and laughter seemed like the were obscenely amplified by huge bass speakers. "Can I ask why, noo--" "Jungkook!" Jimin scolded his junior, and this was the first time you've heard/seen him raise his voice to anyone. "Apologize." He stated sternly, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook. "I'm sorry, noona." His head hung low, hair covering his eyes. "J-jimin, I'm sure Jungkook didn't meant to." You reached out to to hold his hand that was resting on the table. "I'm not mad or upset." You looked over Jungkook's direction and continued, "It's okay, I promise." Jimin squeezed your hand tighter, comforting you. "You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n." "Y-yeah, noona." Taehyung added, "You don't have to. It's none of our business." Jungkook sat still, eyes glassy and mouth pouty. He absolutely looked like a puppy that had been punished for chewing up its human's shoe. "It's alright," You giggle, extremely touched. "It's been months, I can talk about it." "We met during sophomore year. I was a journalist for the university paper and he was on the swim team." The three boys listened intently, like toddlers during story time. "After five years of dating, he proposed. We got married a year later and moved in here. That," you pointed to the pool outside "belongs to him." "It was his idea to get a house with one, I agreed of course. Only two years after getting married, I found out he was cheating on me." Jimin's features softened at your words. He knows it wasn't easy for anyone to talk about their past heartbreak and traumas. He made sure you weren't alone, he took his free hand and placed it over your hand that he was already holding with the other. He held it tight. "It broke my heart, I really thought he was the one, you know? Almost eight years together thrown in the garbage disposal and shredded to pieces." "He doesn't deserve you, noona." Jungkook finally spoke. "He was an asshole and he doesnt deserve you." "Yeah!" Taehyung agreed, "I kinda don't want to finish the work now." Out of nowhere, you burst out laughing. An invisible weight, sort of a thick blanket was lifted and the atmosphere brightened. "No, no, no!" You can't stop your laughter at this point, what Taehyung said tickled a funny bone. "I still plan on living here, Taehyung! Even if I dislike the pool, it's still part of this home. And the make over was sort of a therapy, you know. Out with the old, in with the new, right?" You ended it with a smile, lips curved beautifully. It was a smile Jimin has seen never seen before. It was light and airy, bright and transparent. There was no pain or distress, just carefreeness. He wished you would smile like this more often, and he also wished he'd someday be the reason for it.

"Just kidding, Jungkook! You're the most handsome." You assured the boy, patting his back. "Sorry, Jin. Your brother's grown on me." "Kook one, Jin zero." The youngest boast over to his brother. "Alright, alright!" Jin interrupted, "Unlike you, some of us need to work. How 'bout you and Taehyung get the transport van back to the office and let Jimin, Hoseok, Yugyeom and I get things done, yeah?" Jungkook clicked his tongue, "Whatever." Their sibling banter has got you missing your brother, mentally reminding yourself to call him later. "Hey, Yugs." You hear Jungkook faintly speak. Two more new faces stood beside Jin. "This is Hoseok and Yugyeom. We'll be responsible for landscaping." Another attractive guy with a million-dollar smile on his face and a tall man with the physique of a runway model. Curse, Mr. Park!! Where does he get all these boys?! "Thank you for having us!" The pair recited. "Oh, no! Thank you for helping out with the renovation." "Ms. Y/n, The boys and I will be outside. We'll be mapping out a plan for the design," Jin announced. "Oh, sure." You answer back, "Take all the time that you need." "Great! We'll report to you once we've finished the draft design. So you can the necessary make changes and adjustments." He beamed, walking towards the back yard. Jimin stood silently beside you, "You do landscaping?" You randomly asked, seeing that Jimin was the only one left from their bunch. Jungkook and Taehyung had long gone. "No," he chuckled, "I just need to watch over these guys. Make sure everything goes well." "That's nice, you're very involved with the work you do." His cheeks blossomed pink, he didn't expect a compliment since he was just doing his job. "I try." He shyly replied, bowing then heading for the glass door. "If you need me, I'll be outside." You waved him goodbye and went about your own business. There were still some articles in your workload that needed to be finished and those emails weren't gonna answer themselves. ++ By the time you were done, it was half past two in the afternoon. You noticed as the days progressed, so did the temperature. You check your phone, only to see that today is the hottest reading yet. Since everything has been taken care of, you decided to take a shower. Appreciating the cold refreshing water on you warm skin. After that, you put on your favorite robe and wrapped it around your damp body. As you were about to step out of the bathroom, you noticed Jimin leaning against one of the pillars of your patio, shirtless. Have your eyes been deceived? They say that seeing believes, but you didn't expect Jimin to be this fit. You offered yourself some slack, since the only part of Jimin body's you've oh so graciously seen are his muscular arms. It wasn't as big as those of a body builder, but the amount of muscle in them has already got you mouth watering. But being blessed with the site of his bare skin and taut abdominal muscles has got you feeling wetter than being in the shower. You couldn't keep your gaze off of him. It was an image that you want to engrave at the back of your head. Your eyes roamed his entire body. Face, neck, shoulders, chest and abs. You wanted to memorize every detail. Every mole, every freckle, every scar that adorned his ivory skin. Just as you were taking your time scanning his entire figure, you were startled when you saw him looking at you staring at him. Your heart began to race inside your chest and you almost forgot you were standing in the middle of your house with only a robe covering your very naked body. You scanned around the area of the yard and Jin and the others we're not in plain sight. You assumed they were working on the farthest side of the lot, where your small garden used to be before you abandoned it all together with the pool. You lock eyes with Jimin again, but this time there was something odd at the way he ogles at you. His gaze was lustful and burning with flames devouring your entirety. His were pupils blown out at the display of your skin. He looked pained, his teeth biting harshly at his bottom lip as if he wanted to draw blood. At that point it dawned on you. You know why he seemed so agitated, squirming in his seat. He wanted to see more, see more of you. A wave of unknown confidence washed over you. You didn't know where the hell it came from. Maybe it was from his deadly stare, maybe it was just you. Either way, you were so totally taking advantage of it. Without breaking eye contact, you found purchase at the same seat from which you watched the boys worked while having a chat with your friend. Sensually lifting the hem of your robe up your thighs and spreading your legs open for Jimin to see. "F-fuck," He groaned, hands balling into fists. He glimpsed over to the other men who were still occupied with what they were accomplishing. His attention was back on you, giving you a small nod. The fervor that coursed through your body was incomparable to anything you've experienced before. The Adrenaline was starting to kick in, and you felt hot-blooded. You temperature went up ten degrees higher and you felt delirious. You knew there was a possibility that you were gonna get caught, but screw it. You've never felt like this in your whole twenty-nine year of life. You're gonna enjoy it, basked in it. Jimin's eyes were plastered at your dripping core, lump in his throat and completely mesmerized at its beauty. Your juices sinfully coating you slit. He swore if there wasn't anybody else around, he would have ravished you pussy like an animal. Since you're out here giving him a show that he'll never forget, might as well savour it. He thought things couldn't get any better with you sex on display for him, you open up your legs even more in a whole new different angle. Putting all those gymnastics training to good use. He can virtually see your pink walls with the position your in. He couldn't stop imagining him burying his hard cock inside your tight cunt. Sucking him in when every thrust he made. You left hand slithered its way down to your soaked core, playfully stroking your folds. If Jimin was beside you, he could no doubt hear the way your cream coated skin squelched with every motion you made. Your idle hand managed to loosen the knot of your robe, allowing it fall from your shoulders exposing your round, supple breasts. Nipples instantly hardening at the sudden exposure to the air. Shit, he'd kill just to have his lips around those perky little nipples, sucking on then voraciously until you moan out his name. You could not take all this self-teasing anymore. Jimin's eyes gauges out of its socket as you dip a finger into your damp hole. Jimin thought the heat from the sun was bearable. He'd worked for long hours under it and never complain. But this, you fingering yourself with one hand while the other pulls and twists on your abused nipple was unbearable! The ache between his legs was excruciating he had to casually palm himself. Slightly shifting and bending this leg so that he wasn't noticeable. Another finger goes in, and he's cupping himself harder. He observed your face contort with pleasure at the way you're plunging and curling your two fingers inside of you. Your arousal spilling at the edge of you battered hole, streaming down and accumulating just above your puckered hole. That should be him, he mumbled to himself. Your slender fingers wouldn't be able to satisfy you, unlike his throbbing cock caged inside his boxers, wanting to be set free. Jimin's practically squeezing his dick at this point now, he just wants nothing but to release his ropes cum on you breast while you pleasure yourself. You felt your walls clench around your digits, signalling you that you were nearing climax. You gotta make this quick, Jin, Hoseok or Yugyeom can walk in on you anytime. Adding one last finger, hoping the stretch will help you jump over the edge, you pummeled your cunt with all the strength that you had left. A small moan left your lips and your release came squirting. Coating the marble floor beneath you. Jimim was just as wrecked as you were. His chest was heaving heavily up and down. The only difference was you reached climax, and he didn't, he couldn't. You were steadying you breathing just when you hear Jin yell, "Yo! Jimin! I need you to--" his voice was getting louder and closer. Wide-eyed, you look at Jimin. Mouthing him "Do something!" While you pull yourself together and grab a piece of tissue to wipe your juices off the floor. When you looked up, Jimim wasn't there anymore. He somehow managed to stop Jin from coming any closer to the house from how faintly you hear his voice outside. You sighed and went back to your room. “We’ve done everything we could do today, Ms. Y/n,” Jin happily announces, standing in front of you with his million dollar smile adorning his equally valued face. “We’ll continue everything tomorrow!” “G-great!’ You croaked, substantially tilting your head to see what’s going on behind the tall man’s back. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jimin. “Ms. Y/n?” he waved his hand in your face, snapping you out of it. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” You barely reply. Before he could turn his back on you, you managed to pull on his sleeve. “W-where’s Jimin by the way?” He looked surprised, pondering why you’re asking for the boy. “He went back first,” Jin witnessed your facial expression drop, “He said he wasn’t feeling too good.” “O-oh,” you frowned once more, your browns knitting together at the center of your forehead. “Please tell him to get well soon.” “Of course,” He bowed and bid farewell.

Tomorrow comes and Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Jin said Jimin was still feeling under the weather and took the whole day off from work. While that may seem plausible, it didn’t sit well in your gut. You felt like there was something off with Jimin. Never has he been absent since the first day he worked for you. What is that little stunt you pulled off yesterday, you thought to yourself. Were you really that repulsive to the point that it had gotten him sick? Did you ruin your chances of having something more than just a short time fling with the most charming boy you’ve ever met? What if he never wanted to see you anymore, what would you do then. Those kinds of thoughts were inevitable, of course. It was all you could think of the entire day. So that night, you decided to send him a text message, the first one too. From you: Hi Jimin. Jin told me that you fell ill. Try not to over work yourself next time. I hope you get well soon. -yn Jimin stared stupidly at the screen. Thinking of what to reply or if he should reply at all. Several words typed then deleted. He genuinely didn’t know what to say to you. He was ashamed of what he’s shown and with his lack of self-control. He felt appalled with himself. How could he disrespect you like that? You were a client. A client and worker relationship weren’t prohibited, not at all. It was just his work ethics that wanted everything to be strictly professional, he knew how important your role is to their business. The last thing he wanted was to tarnish what his father built from the ground up with a scandal. So he decided to not let his personal life get involved with his work life. It just makes things complicated, like it is right now. The ‘can’t go to work, feeling sick’ wasn’t wholly a lie. The pain wasn’t physical, it was abstract. And no medicine can induce the pain go away, until he saw your following message. From you: Also, I wanted to talk to you about something. It doesn’t have to be right away, you should rest first and get your health back up. Just message me whenever. Goodnight, Jimin.

There really was no way out, huh. The next day comes and still no Jimin. That was when you confirmed it. You’ve completely and utterly ruined everything. He did not reply to your messages and didn't even want to see your face. It felt like the ground underneath you cracked opened and devoured you whole. That was the very first time in your life that you’ve acted so venturesomely, look what is has cost you. You blame yourself because there was no one else you could point a finger at. Things wouldn't end up the way they are now if you just stayed in your fucking lane. All of this was your fault. You looked back at all the events that happened to you and realized, maybe it was inevitably your fault. Wonwoo wouldn’t have you left if he saw a reason not to. Jimin wouldn’t be ignoring you if he had a reason no to. The course of the entire day was spent with you cooped up inside your room, wallowing away in your own self-pity. You politely told Jin that you needed some time to be alone and he can decide whatever is best for the landscaping. It was around seven in the evening, Jin bid farewell and suggested that if you needed anything, you could call him up. That was extremely thoughtful of him, you think. Another hour passed and the doorbell rings. You weren't expecting anyone though, so you were quite puzzled as to who it might be. The front door open and you see Jimin. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that was folded up to his elbows, wow. Sleek black slacks for pants that cinched his slim waist and leather dress shoes to put everything together. What's the occasion, you thought. "Oh, Jimin" you hid the nervous of your voice by pulling him into a hug "I-its good to see you again, what brings you here? Are you feeling better?" "Ah, yes. I'm sorry for being absent these past few days." His head was hanging low and his eyes were looking elsewhere just to avoid yours. "I wanted to apologize." He finally looked at you with his brown orbs that were displaying sincerity. You ushered him to come inside and take a seat on your couch. "Apologize?" You asked, a little bit perplexed "For what exactly?" "For what I did," his voice grew feebler "I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you just because I felt the heat of that moment. I'm sorry, y/n. I swear I'm better than that." "Oh, Jimin." You smiled tenderly, cupping his plump cheeks with your hand. "I think it's the other way around. I should be the one apologizing. Back then, I couldn't control myself when I should have. After seeing you, all the emotions I've put aside unexpectedly erupted." With your unoccupied hand, you tightly held his. "The truth is, you really have grown on me in all the best way possible. Initially, I thought it was just the backlash of my divorce egging me. I thought maybe my mind was looking for a rebound to dull the ache. But..." Your eyes started becoming glassy. You felt him clutch you hand tighten spurring you to continue "I think that's not it. I know it isn't. You've been nothing but a blessing to me, Jimin. An absolute angel. You're sweet, kind, caring, understanding, ugh--" You mocked frustratingly, letting out a small giggle. "You're perfect. I couldn't see anyone that wouldn't fall for you like I have." Jimin's face reflected what he felt at that moment, relief. This wasn't what he was expecting, hence why he averted the confrontation as best as he could. You were the one who was perfect and completely out of his league. You were a beautiful and capable independent woman that any man would kill for. Your ex-husband was beyond stupid to play with your feelings like he did, he knows. But if it wasn't for your ex's stupidity, he wouldn't be here facing the only woman he'd want to be with for the rest of his life. "I thought you wouldn't like me since I was older--." "Stop." He interrupted, stroking his fingers through your locks while gazing at your gorgeous features. The staring contest ended with the both of you smacking lips, eager to taste what has been endured for so long. Impatient longing was evident in every kiss, lick, bite and tug. You kissed him so fervently that his back was digging against the backrest of the sofa. One of your legs seemed to have a mind of its own and positioned itself to straddle him. "Are you sure you want me?" You queried the boy beneath you, your tone much mischievous from before, it was like there was a flipped switch somewhere. The noticeable change in the atmosphere has got him simply nodding, excited to know there was this side of you that he has not witnessed before. He watched you as you steadily unravel your blouse's satin belt and started to gently caress his wrist. "Would you mind if I tie up these pretty hands of yours?" You hummed, pulling on his hand up to you face and sucking on his middle finger and ring finger. The sensation of your wet mouth around his digits caused his brain to send signals down there. He could already feel himself get rock hard inside his jeans, thinking about how tight your mouth would be if he shoved his dick down you throat. But he'll save that for another day because right now he just wants to let you do what you want to do with him. Right now, he is yours for the taking. You urged him to lean a little closer to you. His face now between the valley of your breast as you meticulously tie his hands behind his back. You pushed him back to his previous position and inquired, "Do you want me to cover your eyes as well?" He shook his head in protest and said, "N-no. I want to see you." There was a pause as he manages to catch his breath, "I-I wanna see you while you make me feel good." You nodded, brushing his hair out of his sweat slicked forehead. From his head, your hand slid lazily down to his neck, to his chest, to his stomach and finally to the growing bulge inside his pants. You palm him unhurriedly, taking your time. Tracing your fingertips over the curve of his caged penis. "Y-y/n.." Jimin griped, observing your hand press against his erection. Somehow enduring the excruciating pain, your teasing had sown. "Can I ask you one last favor?" You purred, peppering his neck with kisses and sucking purple bruises here and there. "W-what is it?" he managed to reply, reveling in the way your teeth nipped against his delicate skin. "Call me noona," Jimin was silent, somewhat waiting for an explanation. When you told him the first time, he met you that he can call you by your first made him feel special because only he could do that. The other workers call you 'Miss' and Jungkook and Taehyung declared you as 'our noona'. "N-noona-" Jimin whined, bucking his hips harder against you hand. He saw your pupils dilate as the word escaped your lips, inflaming something inside you. "Jimin," you growled, squeezing his around his girth ferociously. Buttons were unfastened one after the other, exposing his refined chest and taut muscles. Out of nowhere, you felt raunchy. The tips of your fingernail slowly dragged themselves across his torso, leaving streaks of red in its track. He flung his head back, enjoying the sting that danced on his skin. Jimin squirmed as he felt your weight suddenly leave his lap. His neck snapped back to your direction and damn, what a sight to see. You tucked between his legs and unzipping his pants exposing his angry red-tipped cock oozing out beads of pre-cum. He smirked as he saw you involuntary lick your lips. "You like what you see, noona?" "God, yes." You exhaled, wrapping both your hands around his shaft not because you wanted to, but because it was necessary. Your tiny, little hand could barely encompass his circumference. "Noona's gonna me you feel good, baby." You felt Jimin's dick twitch by the given pet name. "Noona," he groaned, thrusting his member in your grip just to feel any sort of friction. Sensually, you undid your bloused and hurled it somewhere on the floor followed by your bra, exposing your bare chest to the boy. Jimin jerked in his seat, wanting to grab and knead you breast with his own hands. It looked even better up close. The skin smooth and flawless, nipples pert and hard due to the frosty air. "Fuck" he hissed through his teeth, if he could get his mouth on those buds he'd suck them dry and pull it between his teeth making you cry out. "Behave." You scolded him, eyes staring daggers. He stayed in place once again, not wanting to vex you in any way.

You ran the flat of you tongue on the underside of his length, feeling his skin pulse at contact. Salaciously making your way to its head, you began circling his narrow slit with the tip of your tongue. Feeble moans were the only things escaping his pretty mouth. You seized this moment to swallow him whole down to the hilt, fighting your gag reflex. Your mouth has never felt this stuffed as you moan in satisfaction. Jimin felt the vibration of your throat around his cock, tightening around it. You languidly started bobbing your head up and down, bottoming out with every stroke. With a lewd pop, you tried pulling your mouth off his cock. Strings of saliva dribbled from your lips connecting to his tip. You push yourself up slight and proceeded painting your nipples with the concoction of you saliva and his pre-cum that was coating the tip of his penis. "How does this feel?" You cooed, sandwiching his hard member between your two breasts, erotically pumping the tender flesh up and down his length. "So so gooood, noona" Jimin wheezed blissfully. The sensation of his cock wholly enveloped by your soft mounds is inclining him over the edge. "Noona," he wailed shutting his eyes, the urgency of wanting to release washing over him. By the look of things, you guess he's close. You quicken the pace, feeling the skin of you breast chafe due to friction but you don't care. You clamped your hand on your boobs harder to tighten its hold around his cock and pump faster and faster and faster until he's cumming on you tits. "Shit, noona," Jimin stressed, his breaths labored. You watched as his chest heaved up and down, supplying him with the oxygen he needs after such an intense climax. "Oh no. Look at the mess you made, Jimin." You shook your head, pointing to your breast painted with his milky liquid. "I don't like messes," You sing-song, pushing yourself back up to straddle him once more. You clasped your finger under his chin and commanded, "clean it." His heart stammered in his chest. This is it. This is what he desired. Your perky nipples snug between his lips while your back arches in euphoria. He aggressively lapped up his juices from the skin of your chest with his tongue, leaving no trace of the substance behind. Up and down, left and right, there was no area left untouched by his wet greedy muscles. If he could only see the contorted position he put himself in just to taste you. He doesn't give a shit anymore, he'll gladly eat his cum out of you asshole if you asked. He obscenely sucked you left nipple first, earning the tiniest moan from you. Alternating between light nips and starved slurps, abusing your bud. He then moves to your right nipple, the more sensitive one that has you immediately grinding your clothed core against his semi-hard on. "Let me make you feel good, noona." He desperately whined, concealing his face in the nook of your neck inhaling your fragrant scent. You quirked a brow and asked while weaving you digits through his sweat-damped hair. "What does my baby have in mind?" "Let me.." he croaked. "Louder. I can't hear you." "Let me eat you out, noona. Let me make you feel good." He begged with pleading eyes , fidgeting his hands that were behind his back, trying to untie the belt that was restraining him. "I can make you--" "If you take those off I am kicking you out." You threateningly glared at him, voice deadly like venom. Jimin was scared shitless. He could do nothing but sit silently and obey. "I-I'm sorry, noona. I didn't mean to make you mad." This boy. It may seem like you're the one in control but it is you who are actually wrapped around his little finger. Giving in to what he wants. "It's okay, baby." you massaged his tensed shoulders, soothing him down. "I'll still let you eat me out if you promise not to take off your restraint." You sounded so sweet, the exact opposite of what you were minutes ago. Not wanting to piss you off more, Jimin nodded. You helped him lay down the sofa, propping his head underneath a throw pillow. You stepped to the side and shimmied your pants off. His eyes trailed the article of clothing peeling off your body. When the pair of jeans were long gone, his gaze was attached to your still clothed core. A small wet patch sticking to your folds in the middle was visible. You prop a leg over him, climbing on top of his chest, finding purchase when his face is below your pussy. He could smell the scent of you arousal. Filling up his nostrils and intoxicating his entire nervous system like it's some kind of poison. This by far was the best angle he's seen you in. Seeing it up close, he wished he could at least touch you… You moved into a considerably better position, if you buck your hips the slightest bit, if will directly collide with his mouth. "This what you want baby boy?" You teased, lowering you center on the tip of his nose. Overpowering him even more. "Yes, yes, yes!" He cries out, "I want nothing but your pussy, noona!" You snickered at how desperate he has become, "Who knew you were such a little bitch, Jimin. Loving the way you hands are tied up and thirsting over my pussy." "Yes! I want to taste you, noona. I want to make you feel good until you're squirting all over my face like you did before on the floor. Then I'll eat you up so good, so clean." "Good boy." You thrummed, ultimately taking off your underwear. Letting him marvel at the sight of your woman hood. Clean Shaven, baby smooth, and tulip pink. Without warning, you hastily maneuver yourself, grinding your core against his face. "Put your filthy mouth to good use and make me cum." The sounds he was making were borderline pornographic as hell. His slurps and moans blessing your ears, making your insides rut. He'd occasionally prod his muscles inside your hole then flick on your clit relentlessly. The tensed coil finally snapped and you chase you high by grinding against his face. He's devouring you out like a man starved, sucking out and drinking all the juice your pussy was providing him. Wanting nothing but to be selfish, and have you for himself. He licked you clean, not wasting a single drop of your delicious cum. "I didn't know you were such a disgusting slut for pussy, Jimin." "I, I only want your pussy noona… no one else's." He confessed. "On your knees." You demand. "H-huh?" "I said on you knees. You slut." Jimin dropped down on the floor waiting for your next command like the slut he is. "Tell me how much you want to fuck me." "I-I.." He stuttered with his words, and it made you infuriated. "I said. Tell me how much you want to fuck this tight pussy of mine." You bellowed, your words bouncing off the walls of your living you. "I want to fuck you so much, noona! I want to bury my cock so deep inside your pussy until I reach your cervix then I'll fuck you some more. I want nothing but to fill you up with my seed and put a baby in you, noona! I'll fuck you so good that you'll want to you pussy filled by me every day!" He cried, plunging his head on the floor in a begging for your life bow. "Please, please, please!" Jimin was hysterical at this point, screaming and begging you to let him fuck you. "Noona, please. I'll fuck you so good that you'll forget about all your problems." You shiver at his submission and once again, he's got you eating at the palm of his hands. You freed his wrist and he lunges at you, hustling you up against the wall. "Noona," he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, steadying his hands on your hips fingers digging into your skin. "You don't know how much I wanted to put my hands on you. I can't take it anymore, noona." he pressed his erection against your slick folds "I need to be inside you." "Then show noona what that dirty cock can do." you smirked, challenging the boy. He gripped both of your thighs and carried you to the dinner table. Laying you down before spreading your legs open for him. He aligned his cock to your entrance, pushing gradually, inch by inch until he bottomed out. The stretch was incredible, you were already dripping wet but there was still the sting that lingered from his size. Your walls were trying resisting the force, convulsing around his length spontaneously. "You're tighter than I've imagined, noona." You did kegels around him, eliciting a sharp groan from the boy. "Fuck, Noona. You were made for my cock." You hummed in agreement, relishing the sensation of him pushing in and out of your tight hole. "Baby.." You moaned wantonly, elevating you butt so that he could have a better angle while penetrating you ruthlessly. "Your thick long cock is the best I've ever had. Better than my ex-husband's pathetic excuse for a dick." His ego doubled at your praise, pride blooming in his chest. "More, noona.. please tell me how great my cock is for you.." "Ahhh-- ahh. Jimin!" You bit your lip, clenching around him. "You're taking remarkably good care of noona. Fucking your noona so good. I love your cock so much. I want you to fill me up with you cum. Yeah? Hmmmm. Make your noona the happiest by cumming inside my pussy." There was the push he needed, he was plunging further into you. He felt the barrier of your cervix and broken through it before spilling all his seed into your womb. You quickly followed when you felt the warmth of his juices flowing into you. Your velvet walls convulsed around his cock, milking him for all his worth. Silence fell on the both of you, only the south of your panting and harsh breath resonated. You supported yourself up with you elbows as Jimin pull out his now flaccid penis. You felt the trickle of both of your releases slobber out of your sore hole. "Baby, do noona a favor and clean up the mess you've made with your mouth." Jimin without hesitation obeyed and dove right in. Making sure to get every last drop of yours and his cum with his tongue. He lifted his head, mouth glistening from your juices. You pulled him closer to pet his held. "You were such a good boy for noona. Bring me to bed." He obliged, carrying you bridal style to your room. His muscles rippling under your stripped body. "Noona?" He questioned while his face was still cuddling your tummy. "Hmm?" "Did I make you feel good?" You lifted up his face and said, "You made me feel so good, baby." You assured, loving the way his eyes turn into crescent moons endearing when he smiles. "Can we do that again? But this time I want the blindfolds." He flashed a cheeky grin. You smirked at his innocence, placing a kiss on his temple. "Of course, baby. We have all the time in the world." ++ The sound of knocking on your front door wakes you up, seems like this is will be a regular thing now. You managed to put on an oversized shirt and underwear on before heading to the source of the noise. You opened the doors at was bet by Jungkook and Taehyung. "Good morning, boys." You yawned, gesturing them to come in. "Uhm. Good morning, noona" Jungkook croaked, pushing his senior to speak on his behalf. "See, we haven't heard from Jimin since last night so uh-- it's just jungkook and I that'll be finishing up work today." Taehyung stated. "About that…."

You heard the door of your room creak open and out comes Jimin with nothing but this boxers on and hickeys all over his neck and chest. The two boys looked at each other dumbfoundedly and once they've put two and two together, huge grins were plastered on their faces. End

tell me what u think pls

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dutchsonjaa · 4 years ago

Text

The Panic button

Sequel to “I’ll lose as a winner” and “Wilbur’s last stand”

TW: Injuries leading to death, execution.

“Press it one time if you’re uncomfortable and you need me to help you out. Press it twice if you’re in danger, and I’ll come”, Tommy tried his best to recall the instructions as he opened the hidden clasp on his survival bracelet. It was a handy little thing, this bracelet. He was able to message his friends with it and it even had an built-in GPS. Despite everything, Tommy had often to be reminded to wear it… until that one incident. After that, Tommy would wear the bracelet wherever he went and even allowed Wilbur to install the little panic button, connecting it to his own. Tommy had hated the panic button at first, surely he could stand his own, he was almost a man grown after all, yet he complied knowing it would bring some peace to his brother’s mind. He would never admit that maybe, he felt reassured knowing that the call for help was within his reach. Tommy felt a pit in his stomach as he recalled the first time he’d used the button. The brothers had a huge fight over something stupid, and Wilbur had stormed out the door. Tommy had taken care of his black eye and tried to keep himself occupied, but grew more anxious by the minute for his brother’s safety as the night was now upon them. Eventually the young man had caved and pressed the button once, and soon Wilbur’s voice had rung through the device, asking if his younger brother was safe and well. After Tommy had confirmed his wellbeing, Wilbur had promised they’d talk later and hung up. True to his word, after Wilbur had gotten home the next morning, the two men sat down, their quarrel soon forgotten. They were family after all.

Wilbur had promised Tommy the panic button would work, no matter what happened to Tommy’s bracelet. Neither of the bracelets could be tinkered with and if someone were to try, Wilbur had warned, the bracelet would sent out an alarm to its twin, alerting the owner of any danger their sibling were to be in. Tommy’s bracelet was ruined, the screen was cracked, and the device wouldn’t even turn on anymore. What worried the young man most however, was the teeth grinding sound that came from the device, before shutting off again. Wilbur needed him, Tommy realized with dread, and Tommy needed his brother as well, more than ever. Taking a deep breath, Tommy found the panic button and pressed it two times, alerting his brother that he was in danger, and waited. Even though he never expected an answer, the truth still hurt. Tommy rested his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing. His brother was gone. He was gone, and Tommy hadn’t been able to save him. Standing up on heavy legs, trying to ignore the aching in his injured leg, Tommy walked over to check on Technoblade. The other man was asleep on one of the hard beds in the corner, shivering and shaking from the fever running through his body. Tommy had pleaded with the guards for some medicine, but they only laughed him off. Tommy could only hope Technoblade would make it. Placing a damp cloth on the other man’s forehead in an effort to cool him down a little, Tommy tried not to look at the poisoned arrow still stuck in the man’s shoulder. He hadn’t dared to try and remove it, fearing he’d only make it worse. “Please get better”, Tommy muttered as Technoblade seemed to drift into a calmer sleep. After checking the man’s pulse once more, Tommy left him to it and allowed himself to get some rest. Crawling on the bed opposite of Technoblade’s, below the third sitting abandoned, Tommy finally allowed himself some rest.

The dream that followed had been the same as the previous two nights. Tommy found himself carelessly running down the steps of Eret’s tower, blocking out Quackity’s shouts behind him. The young man didn’t feel the pain that shot through his knees when he fell, or the aching of his lungs. Jumping down the last few steps, Tommy spun around the corner and almost collided with the two men carrying Schlatt’s… body? There wasn’t time to think about what that meant, or break his stride, so Tommy simply leapt over the corpse, ignoring the insults aimed at his head. Somewhere in the distance, another scream filled the air, but Tommy didn’t bother to give it any attention. Instead, the young man focused on the body of the distance, as his brother lay in a pool of blood, HBomb crouched over him. Pushing himself a bit harder running the last few steps, Tommy threw himself in the dirt beside the two men. Trying to ignore the sensation of blood soaking through his knees, he quickly searched his pockets for a health potion, an golden apple, anything. “Tommy”, the sound made the young man look up and meet HBomb’s gaze. “It’s alright Tommy. He needs you”. Feeling the world sink out from under him, Tommy found his voice. “What are you talking about”? Looking down at Wilbur, he carefully pushes some of the man’s hair out of his face, trying to ignore the dread in his stomach as he saw how dull and unfocused those brown eyes looked. “You’ll be alright, don’t’ you worry Big Man”, Tommy felt his voice break. “We’ll take care of you”. HBomb gave Tommy a pitiful look before lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry Tommy, but we can’t move him. All we can do right now is to try and give him some comfort in his last moments”. Tommy felt bile rise up in the back of his throat as he examined Wilbur’s injuries. HBomb had apparently ripped Wilbur’s jacket open, perhaps to try and save him, showing the white shirt already being stained by blood. His chest was crushed, either by the impact from the fall or the weight of Schlatt’s body landing on him and even through the man’s torso was still rising and falling with each pained breath, it seemed to be a struggle. Tommy felt tears well into his eyes as he realized Wilbur would never walk again, the way his lower back was twisted, or hold a sword as his eyes fell on his wrists, shattered in the chains binding them. Carefully leaning over his brother’s body to wipe off the drizzle of blood running from the man’s lips, Tommy pleaded with the man. “Please Will, get better..”. HBomb averted his eyes as Wilbur’s breathing grew fainter, then stopped. “NO!”, Tommy screamed, slapping Wilbur’s cheek in an effort to wake him up. “Don’t you dare do this to me! Don’t leave me!”. Something moved in the edge of his vision and for a moment, he thought he saw a blonde man standing to the side, a bucket hat resting lightly on his brow. The man shot Tommy a sorrowful look before seemingly fading away. “Tommy..”, Tommy heard HBomb whisper and as he met the other man’s tearstained face, he felt himself break down. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, sobbing over his brother’s broken body, until HBomb shook his shoulder. “Tommy, get up”, he breathed. “They’re coming. You have to get away from here”. As Tommy slowly rose to his feet, trying to ignore the stickiness of the blood on his clothes and the aching of his limps, a voice spoke up behind him. “What a shame”, a man’s voice spoke, and as Tommy spun around, he didn’t recognize the two men climbing up the hill behind them. “Who are you?”, Tommy spoke, his voice sounding braver than he felt. At this moment, he wished he still had a sword. “My name is CallMeCarson, and this is my friend Hugbox”, the man spoke, gesturing to his friend. “Schlatt had warned us there might be some trouble at this little festival at his. Guess he was right”, the man sighed, scratching his chin. “You must be TommyInnit, although you are younger than I thought you’d be. A shame, for such a young man being involved in a war”. The man reached out a hand. “Mind coming with us? We want to have a little talk”. Tommy stood a little straighter, facing the two men. “Don’t you come any closer”, the young man hissed. “Why do you people always have to make it this hard”, Carson sighed before making a hand movement towards his friend. “Take him”. When Hugbox charged Tommy was ready for him, and dodged his grip easily. He didn’t expect Hugbox to grab his ankle and drag them both to the ground. His hands still tied with Carson standing over him, Tommy had to think quickly. A kick in Hugbox’s face made the man release his leg as his nose broke with a sickening crunch, and Tommy quickly scrambled to his feet before driving his head into Carson’s stomach, causing the other man to double over in pain. Finding his feet to run, he only hoped HBomb would be fine. Carson and Hugbox had quickly recovered themselves however, so there wasn’t any time to check on the man. Sprinting through the shattered remains of the festival trying to get rid of his pursuers, Tommy grimaced his teeth as his injured leg started hurting again. Dodging left and right through the chaos, the young man finally allowed himself to slow down his pace and catch his breath as he realized he lost the two men. Feeling a small wave of pride, Tommy opened his bracelet to send a message to Tubbo, hoping to find his friend was safe and sound. They’d be fine, Tommy told himself after he sent the message, trying to clear his thoughts. He’d meet up with Tubbo and they’d make everything alright. Tommy wiped the sweat off his face as he gathered his courage and went to search for his friend. There wasn’t too much daylight left. Walking through the chaos, he tried not to look at the blood on the ground, or the wounded crying as they were being helped on the cart. Fundy was one of the people helping the wounded, Tommy realized. Did he even know his father was dead? Tommy looked away, searching the crowd for Tubbo instead. Terrified eyes followed the young man as he walked around the field, the citizens cowering away as if they expected a second wave of attack. Tommy couldn’t bear to look them in the eyes, knowing it was his brother who caused this. The brother who was now dead. As a potion of blindness splashed on his feet, Tommy screamed, but to no avail. One pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and Tommy suddenly met a crossbow inches from his face. In a horror, he realized he was caught.

The cell the young man found himself in each morning when he woke wasn’t as bad as it could be, even he had to admit to that. One of the windows was overlooking the woods between Pogtopia and Manberg, even though the bars were too tough to break. The rations were made of soup and mostly fresh bread, so Tommy had to consider themselves lucky. Technoblade was mumbling in his sleep on one of the hard beds in the corner, and Tommy frowned when he realized his cellmate looked a bit paler this morning than the last. He just had to hope the other man would make it, even though he didn’t know what their future looked like. Would his friends be able to get them out of here? He wasn’t sure anymore. Doubt nagged in Tommy when he thought about that. He had seen Fundy, but would the man help them out? He had been pretty close to Schlatt, and now the president was dead at the hands of Fundy’s own father. He didn’t know what happened to HBomb, and didn’t know if any of his other friends were even still alive. Tubbo….. Tubbo had been on the stage when the first explosions went off… surely he wouldn’t be.. a bang on the heavy iron door ripped him from his thoughts. Tommy looked up as Dream entered the door, one of the guards quickly locking it after him. “Hey Tomathy”, the green man spoke as he started approaching Technoblade, greeting the other man in his turn as he sat up groggily on his bed. “What are you doing here?” Tommy hissed as Dream quickly examined Technoblade before gesturing to Tommy to help him. Technoblade’s eyes were glazed over as he met Tommy’s gaze when the young man stepped closer and followed Dream’s instructions carefully as the green man prepared to pull the arrow from Technoblade’s shoulder. “Hold him tightly, this is bound to hurt”, he told Tommy. Technoblade let out a thundering scream as the arrow was ripped from his flesh, and Tommy had to catch the man as he collapsed. Silence filled the air as Dream carefully bandaged Technoblade’s wound, until Tommy couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. “Why’d you betray him?”, he asked, not wanting to look at the other man. Dream just sighed. “Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you. I had to be on the right side of history, you know? Stopping Wilbur’s tyranny where everyone could see was the best way I could ensure that, the man had already dug his own grave, but I never meant for things to end this way. Don’t think it’s a coincidence there are three beds”. Retrieving a vial from his pocket, he handed it to Tommy. “Give this to Technoblade when he’s awake. It will help him recover”. As Dream approached the door to leave, Tommy blurted out “Why are you helping us”. Dream paused, before turning to him. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve taken a liking to you”, he spoke with a shrug. As Dream knocked on the door to get the guard to release him, Tommy heard him mutter “I just hope it will be enough”.

Days passed, and true to Dream’s word, Technoblade seemed to get a little stronger each passing day. His sleep wasn’t as restless anymore and to Tommy’s relief, Technoblade had even nibbled on some bread last night, complaining they didn’t give them any potatoes. Maybe he would be okay. It seemed to calm the restlessness in his head somewhat when Tommy pressed the panic button, so he made an habit out of it, even though he knew no answer would follow. Nevertheless, Tommy kept pressing the button, praying that things were going to get better. On the morning of the fifth day, Tommy’s thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from the speaker. “Hello?”, a voice spoke, making Tommy jump. “Wilbur!”, the young man yelled into the receiver, tears welling in his eyes. “Will, I can’t believe-“. The voice cut him off. “Tommy, is that you”? Tommy’s heart sank when he recognized Quackity’s voice. “I really thought..”, he cried as he allowed himself sink down on the floor. “I’m sorry Tommy, I didn’t think this bracelet had any meaning. I took it off Wilbur’s body when they came for him. I didn’t even expect for it to still turn on”. Tommy was sobbing now, but he didn’t care. “He didn’t block the messages, after all this time. He didn’t block them”. He heard Quackity sign. “So it seemed. Look, Tommy, don’t you blame yourself okay? I know you tried to save him, but Wilbur dug his own grave okay? He was too far gone.”. Silence filled the air before Quackity continued, an anger rising in the man’s voice. “Thanks to his doing, you and Technoblade have been accused of treason as well. The plan is to have you two executed on the morrow for all eyes to see, but I won’t let that happen okay? I will try everything to get you out of there, just stay strong”. As the device went silent once more, Tommy felt numb. As Technoblade cleared his throat, Tommy looked up and saw the pain in those pink eyes of his. “Wilbur… you told me he was locked up in another cell….”. Tommy’s eyes said enough. “No, no, no!”, Technoblade yelled out, punching the wall as he allowed his old fury take over. “Kill them all, let the rivers run red with their blood-!”, Tommy watched from a safe distance as the other man went berserk, attacking the sturdy iron door with all his strength. A coughing fit quickly spun an end to his rage as the man slunk to the floor, gasping for breath. “Techno..”, Tommy whimpered, reaching out an hand to Technoblade’s shoulder. In a quick movement, Technoblade grabbed Tommy’s wrist, pulling the young man closer to his face. “I don’t need help from you”, he hissed through his teeth, before sending him back with a shove. Tommy stumbled and as his injured leg gave out under him, he felt both the pain from his head hitting the wall and the pain from his heart shattering as Technoblade turned his back to him.

They came for them the next morning. Half a dozen guards would be ready to escort the two prisoners to their demise, the gallows waiting for them on the place where the election platform once stood. Tommy wouldn’t have allowed the men to take him without a fight, even it if meant he would never make it to the gallows, but Technoblade had taken him by his arm with a comforting smile. “Let’s give them one last show, shall we?”, the man spoke as he met Tommy’s eyes. Tommy had to allow Punz to tie his hands together once more. “Sorry Tom, but Quackity won’t be here to save you. Come on now”, the man spoke reassuringly as he lead Tommy forward, Technoblade just behind them. Squinting against the light as the sun blinded his eyes, Tommy tried to walk upright as the crowd made way for them. He wouldn’t show any fear. Scanning the crowd looking for the comforting faces of his friends, the young man realized there were many newcomers among them. Feeling his heart beat in his chest, Tommy turned to face the gallows in the distance instead. The wooden structures stood proud on top of the barren hill, waiting for the prisoners to take their place beneath them. A light push between Tommy’s shoulder blades convinced Tommy to keep moving. His legs felt heavy as he ascended the wooden stairs to the podium, the feeling of dread washing over him. He looked up as he was set on the trapdoor beneath him and the rope was tightened sharp around his neck, cutting in his flesh. “These two young men stand accused for the assassination of president Schlatt and the murder of many of his citizens. Do you have any last words?’, the man asked the two prisoners as they were ready to face their fate. “Blood for the blood god!”, Technoblade proclaimed, and then it was Tommy’s turn. Sweat ran down his temple as he stared at the crowd. Many were shouting, some insults, other pleading with the guards to spare them. A stone flew through the air, giving Tommy a nasty cut above the eyebrow as blood dripped into his eye. “I fought for you…”, he muttered softly at first, then spoke up louder when Technoblade gave him an encouraging smirk. “I fought for you!”, he repeated, no longer caring about his posture. “I won back this land for you, I gave up my discs for it!”, he yelled as hot tears ran over his cheek, feeling the rage grow inside him. “I saved you, I almost died for you!”, he spoke as he met each face staring at him. “For the revolution!”, Technoblade yelled out next to him, and some cheering was briefly heard in the distance. Tommy only had eyes for the executioner however as the man walked to the lever that would end their lives so soon. Technoblade saw it too for he let out a sigh before closing his eyes. Time seemed to slow down as the executioner rested his hand on the lever, looking over at the two men one last time before pulling it. Tommy met the man’s gaze as his eyes went from sorrowful to shock as a sword pierced through his chest. Before anyone could react, a gust of wind blew over the podium, followed by a flash of white, sending panic through the crowd. Tommy was struggling when the pressure from his neck was released causing him to sink to his knees. A hand appeared in front of his face and as he hesitantly accepted the help to get back to his feet, he looked up to meet Philza’s blue eyes, although the man looked ten years older. “Glad you’re safe. Come on, help me with Techno”, he just spoke, beckoning to his son. The two men struggled to support Technoblade in his weakened state, the man being so much heavier than the both of them, but they managed to help him down the stairs and into the crowd. “What’d you do to them”, Tommy asked as he saw his people clawing at their eyes or try to hide. “Just an old trick I had up my sleeve. They’ll be fine”, Philza muttered as he struggled with Techno’s weight leaning on him. Two horses were waiting for them, saddled and ready to go. After Tommy helped Philza to get Technoblade in an saddle, he turned to his father. “How’d you know?”. As an response, Philza retrieved a third bracelet to show to Tommy. “You pressed the panic button, remember?”. Turning away to climb in the saddle behind Technoblade, he muttered “Besides, I can’t bear to lose another son”. Tommy nodded as Philza continued. “Let’s go now. We have a long way to go”. As Tommy climbed in the saddle, he looked at the remains of L’manberg one last time, thinking about his friends. With a pang he realized that this was just like the day of the election, as he was forced to flee together with Wilbur through the woods. “Please be safe Tubbo”, he whispered, realizing he was forced to abandon his friend a second time. Philza urged him to follow him and Tommy spurred on his garron to follow his father into the trees.

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Chains (Shinsou X Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader, side!Kirishima

For anon

Genre: Angst to fluff

Word count: 2,576

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Who am I to resist a request? Or even a little angst ;) Take care of your mental health kids, don’t end up like me Thanks for being the first request anon! I hope I did a good job fulfilling your wishes!

When I started writing, I was scrolling through TikToks (bc I’m a loser) and I found one that helped me tweak the climax scene and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. It’s almost twice as long as my previous posts because I wanted to stuff as much into it. Enjoy!

(Also ICYMI I wrote a Todoroki Birthday Special!)

"Are you excited for the Sports Festival?" I swings my legs on the bench, sipping my carton of juice.

Shinsou crosses his leg over the other, leaning his arms on the back of the bench. "Yeah, can't wait to face off with that loud-mouth idiot." He scoffs. "Who does he think he is? His head's stuck far up his ass. I can't believe you're friends with him."

I roll my eyes. "We're not really friends, Kirishima's attached to him at the hip, they're a package deal."

His dark purple eyes glance over me for a moment. "I see."

The expression on his face is unreadable. Not that it's out of the ordinary since he's the quiet type, but it makes me uneasy. Lately, our relationship has become distant ever since both of us made it to UA. I was accepted into 1-A and Shinsou didn't. Though he tells me he supports me wholeheartedly and assures me otherwise, I know he's hurt about it. And it doesn't help that I've had to split my time between him and my classmates after school.

I scoot closer to him, grip his large hands, and lean my head on his shoulder. "You're stressed, aren't you? I really want you to do well so you can transfer into my class. You deserve it."

Shinsou's head rests on mine in response. "I hope I can make it in."

"Hey," I call softly, a faint nagging creeping into my mind. "We're keeping competition between us friendly, right?"

"Afraid you're gonna lose, sweetheart?" he chuckles. I can't hear the smirk on his face.

I shove his shoulder with mine. "Shut up."

Red flag, my mind immediately thinks as I stand there dumbfounded by what he's just said. "You want to what?"

Shinsou crosses his arms over his chest. "I need full control over everyone on my team, that includes you."

My body grows cold and my knees start shaking. He's not joking. There's not a hint of lighthearted joking or teasing in his cold eyes. He's never even joked about it before because he was afraid of what I would think of him if he ever used his quirk on me; he would never forgive himself if he did.

I look down at my shoes. I trust his strategic mind to lead us, but it hurts to think he doesn't trust me enough to help him without control. He just wants to win like you do, I rationalize. But is that enough to relinquish total control to him?

A hand on my shoulder scatters my thoughts and I stare up into Shinsou's concerned gaze. "I know I promised before, but these are different circumstances, I'm sorry. I promise you, we can make it to the next round if you trust me."

Though I still feel torn, I sigh in surrender. "Okay."

He removes his hand, eyes blank. "Are you ready?"

A hint of hesitation persuades me to reconsider, but the thought of letting him down and pushing him away overtakes me. "Yes."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, my breath hitches and my mind goes blank. All stiffness leaves my limbs but I can't move, a numbing cold sensation takes over.

It feels strange, having no control over your body; it moves though you don't will it to, and all you can do is watch. It's almost like you're playing a 4D game, but you're the character and you can still feel everything, but you can't react. Your quirk almost feels fake for a moment until you realize it's your body. As Shinsou maneuvers our entire team to stealthily steal the other teams' headbands with the help of my chain-creation quirk, I feel out of place in my own body.

But I made this choice to trust him, and I will. I just hope I don't have to feel this again.

When I saw our names lined up for the first match, I thought it was some cruel joke my eyes were playing on me. But it wasn't. Shinsou stands across from me in the ring, hands casually stuffed in his pockets like this is the most normal thing, like I'm his enemy.

"So much for keeping competition friendly," he smirks, looking down his nose at me.

I try to match his attitude to mask my uneasy nerves. "Yeah, like you can hurt me more than I can hurt you."

I breathe, thinking of a strategy to beat him. Fortunately, my quirk is pretty offensive while his isn't. I just have to close the distance between us, grab him with my chains, and throw him out of the ring without responding to anything he says. Simple.

"AND START!!!!" Present Mic's voice booms throughout the stadium.

I run to start closing the distance between us. Admittedly, I can't make very long chains that reach all the way to him very quickly, so I have to get closer to my target.

Shinsou knows this, retreating the other way. "I guess you haven't trained enough to extend your quirk." When I don't answer, he continues, "It seems they don't teach you much in that Hero class."

The urge for me to yell at him to shut up is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back. If he catches me, it's game over.

"I guess the only thing that class is good for is nurturing hot-heads and stealing your time from people who're supposed to matter."

I slow down a little, my breath heaving. His words have a dark undertone to them. I understand taunting me with petty, good-natured quips, but is he digging deep?

The smirk on his face wavers a bit. "If I knew being a hero means abandoning the people you care about, then maybe some of us good guys aren't cut out for such a job."

Are you implying I'm a bad guy then? I want to taunt back, but I know I can't.

"But I guess you got into the hero course because you have a heroic quirk," he goes on. "Too bad you can't use it to its full potential yet."

He knows how frustrated I get about my quirk. Which is why he's using it as canon fire against you, I remind myself, picking up the pace again. Damnit! Just slow down already! When did you get so athletic?

"But it's fine, as long as you have fun with your new friends, right?" He suddenly comes to a stop, his back to me.

Though I'm confused and my first instinct is to stop, I rush forward, chains growing out of my palms in preparation.

"Well, I guess you always had the more heroic and useful quirk."

The pain in his voice stops me dead. What-

He turns around, hurt, pain, and anger mixed into his expression. "You must've realized the difference between our quirks, right? That I'm more suited to being a villain?" His eyebrows furrow into more anger. "I knew this day would come, I knew you never really cared about my feelings and you would eventually leave me alone like everyone else!"

Shinsou shouldn’t be like this. The way he’s trained with his quirk naturally made him more blunt and willing to share his opinion, but he's not like this usually. Getting the brunt of that bluntness doesn’t make me feel that great. My silence became less about me staying quiet to avoid his quirk and more me being appalled and dumbstruck by the accusations he’s throwing at me. I know he's only saying things to get me to respond, but when did he cross that line between playful chiding just to win and an actual fight between us? I don't even know how to feel about his words.

"You know, I never fully trusted you," he points a finger at me. "Especially when you were chosen for the Hero class and not me. I knew you would eventually shut me out of your life and avoid me because I don't fit in with your 'hero' friends. You're just like everyone else!"

My mouth gapes open, the words not coming. His apparent pain and frustration urges me to comfort him somehow, but how do I respond? Where do I even start?

Shinsou bites his lip, his features softening up into melancholy. "If you're sick of me, just leave me for Shark Teeth already, okay? Don't string me on like this!"

My chest feels heavy with guilt and I want nothing more than to run to him and throw my arms around him. "Hitoshi-"

The numbness grips me before I can register Shinsou's face relax from agony into a smirk of victory. No...

"OH MY GOD!! SHINSOU WAS FAKING A LOVER'S QUARREL TO TRAP HIS OPPONENT WITH HIS BRAINWASHING!! HOW WILL THIS END?!" Present Mic screams through the speakers.

He was faking. My heart sinks, overcome with varying degrees of fury and self-loathing.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this." Funnily enough, he doesn't sound very apologetic. "But now that I've got you, we can end this. Go walk out of bounds and lose for me."

At this point, I don't even care about losing, or that I'm walking against my will out of this stupid ring. Shinsou said all those things to hurt me intentionally, and when he realized I can ignore his taunts, he took advantage of my feelings. And everything he said, he had to have meant them somehow. I know he's bottled up all those complaints and used them against me now.

Midnight declares Shinsou the winner of the match after I take my final step out of the ring and the feeling returns to my body. When I turn around, he's grinning for his triumphant win, but it falters when he sees me. I'm not in the mood to be a good sport or even offer a smile, I just walk off and let him have his moment.

I walk up to where the rest of Class 1-A is sitting, fists still clenched into white knuckles.

"Nice job, Extra," Bakugou scowls at me, leaning back in his seat. "You got beat by that General Studies loser."

"Shut the hell up, Pomeranian asshat, I'm not in the mood." I slump down a few rows up. I just want to be alone to think. There's the fear in my mind that I didn't show off my quirk enough and I might get replaced because I was eliminated so early and that I'm still weak at my quirk, but those are the least of my worries. How am I supposed to confront Shinsou? A part of me wants to be angry and beat him into next week, but I can't bring myself to.

Kirishima slides into the seat next to me. "Hey, don't be so upset. You tried your best."

I sigh. "Thanks, Kiri. I don't care about losing though."

He puts a hand on my shoulder sympathetically. "That was a pretty nasty fight out there. Is everything okay between you guys?"

"I thought it was!" I burst out, almost laughing at my misfortune. "Apparently I was wrong and oblivious to everything!" I bury my face in my hands. "I just... How did it get to this, Kiri? I thought I knew him enough to know when something's wrong. Instead I let him deal with all those pent up emotions alone. God, I'm so stupid!"

Kirishima takes in my clearly disgruntled state and rubs the back of his neck, appearing uncomfortable. "If I'll be honest, Shinsou would be an idiot to do that to you intentionally, and he's probably kicking himself for what he did. I know he really cares about you, he was just caught in the moment."

I turn my body to face my best friend. "Kiri, I know you're resisting the urge to beat his ass, you don't have to defend him."

"Of course I wanna beat him up! He made you sit here all upset, that's not manly!" He punches his fists together, suddenly fired up before he relaxes. "And at the same time, it wouldn't be manly of me to come between you guys."

I offer him a sad smile. I already know about Kiri's crush on me, he told me a few weeks ago after class when he didn't know I was already taken. Thankfully, he never made anything awkward after that and we've stayed best friends.

"Which is why I should help you guys patch thing up instead!" He flashes a shark-tooth grin. "You guys should really talk it over, clear the air once and for all! I think he would really appreciate it if you gave him a chance to explain his feelings."

I nod to myself. "Yeah, it wouldn't do us any good to let this blow up." Swinging an arm over his shoulder, I ruffle his gelled hair. "You would make a great boyfriend, Kiri, giving great advice like this."

"Hey hey! Don't mess up my hair!" The red-head struggles in my grip. "Don't you have any idea how long it took me to do this morning?!"

I stretch out my sore muscles as I walk out of the changing room, ready to go home after a long day. In the distance, Shinsou's waiting near a bench, hands in his pockets as usual.

"Hey," I greet him with a neutral tone.

He's surprised to see me approach him first. "Hey..."

To avoid too long of an awkward pause, I say, "I'm sorry you didn't win. I guess Midoriya found a way to overcome your quirk."

"Yeah, that was shocking to me." He avoids my gaze, rubbing the back his neck awkwardly.

I swallow, gathering my wits. I've rehearsed what I wanted to say while I was sitting around idle during the day and I'm ready to let it all out. "I-"

"I'm really sorry for everything I said." Shinsou beats me to the punch. "I want to take it back and say none of it was true, but my feelings are still there." He shuffles his feet together. "I know you were still trying to make time for me, I was just selfish that you were spending time with Ashido and Kirishima and...their friends. My own insecurities got in the way." His hand lands on my head, a sign of his affection. "You made it into the Hero class by your own merit. And I do trust that you wouldn't leave me. You're the best thing that's happened to me and I almost screwed this up. And if you're still mad, I understand-"

I cut him off by enveloping him in a hug, squeezing him with my arms around him as I bury my face in his chest. "It's my fault too. I should've been more aware of your feelings and addressed them."

His arms timidly wrap around my frame. "So, you're not mad?"

"I mean, I still want to slap you for using your quirk on me twice when you promised you'd never do it."

His body rumbles as he laughs at me, petting my head. "I'm sorry for that too. I won't do it again."

"You better not," I threaten, though I know it's empty. "It really didn't feel good. If you do it again, as soon as I'm out, I'm whipping you with my chains."

He's silent for a moment. "Should I be excited or scared?" A girlish scream escapes his lips when metal collides with his back.

I had to I’m sorry :)

So the full anon ask (in case you were wondering) was: i absolutely love your writing! the shinso one is amazing! Idk if you write angst (to fluff) but if you do can you write: shinso and reader dating but the sports festival came up and they are against each other. shinso ends up saying negative things about the reader / relationship to try to get her to talk back. Reader ends up upset and wonders if he went too far. asks her best friend Kiri (who has a crush on her) for advice. And the rest is up to you :)

Thanks again anon for being my first request :)

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #kirishima #mha angst #shinsou angst #angst to fluff #request #ask #anon #shinsou imagine #shinsou scenario #gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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sombreboy · 4 years ago

Text

Love Maze »15

Previous » Next Series Masterlist ▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn, fluff. ▎ word count: 8.1k ▎ ch.warnings: cursing, homophobic slurs (censored), angst, they have another argument smh these boys never catch a fucking break

Co-writer: @velvetwicebang ♡♡♡

The early morning’s blinding rays invited themselves in through the curtain cracks in Jungkook’s bedroom, landing on a sleeping Taehyung’s puffy face.

The elder’s distracting snoring bounced off the walls of the room, not bothersome to him as he peacefully slept through the noise. Honestly, it was a surprise how much Jungkook was immune to the sound..

The one noise that always did manage to wake Taehyung up, however, was the familiar ringing of that goddamn alarm clock.

As per usual, Tae went through his daily routine consisting of whining about how he’d been pulled out of his slumber, begging Jungkook for a few more minutes, cursing out early morning practices.. same old.

“I’m gonna skip out on showering this morning..” Taehyung drowsily mumbled into the pillow, desperately seeking for a few extra minutes. His body was sore, and Taehyung was one of those people who needed eight hours of sleep.

“Wake me up when you’re done, will you?” A small pause, followed by a raspy, “I love youu~”

Jungkook drowsily turned off the alarm before groaning, for once he didn't actually want to leave his bed.

''You sure?'' he sat up properly, hand reaching over to stroke the elders back carefully, the sudden verbal affection from his boyfriend still surprising-- yet welcomed. It was something the younger needed a little time to get used to, and it made his chest flutter every single time.

''Love you too~'' He cooed back, giving Tae's ass a soft pat before getting out of bed, completely naked from last night. he rummaged through his closet for some clean clothes, stretching the joints in his body before slowly heading towards the bathroom.

Jungkook winced lightly when the hot water hit the scratches on his back, but quickly got used to it as he stood there for a while, washing up and losing himself in his thoughts, everything from what had happened yesterday to Jisoo. He really owed her an apology for not coming back...

When finished, Kook ruffled his wet hair before patting his body mostly dry and throwing on his boxers and sweatpants-- leaving the shirt off to head back to his bedroom. He walks over to the small mirror hanging on the wall, turning his back towards it to check out his back.

''Wow you've got some claws.'' He chuckled before crawling up on the bed to lay down next to Tae again, nuzzling his nose into the elders hair, ''Wake uuup....~''

Taehyung slothfully stirred in his spot, groaning out in groggy distaste when he felt the bed dip, signaling that his boyfriend was out of the shower.

“Yah..” He turned his head to the side, cheek pressed against the pillow whilst his eyelids hung barely open, “you yourself said I have some claws, don’t make me use them..”

Tae contemplated life for a few more seconds before giving in to his boyfriend’s soft pleads, sitting up on the bed with a loud yawn, hands busy rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes.

God, school hadn’t even started and the elder was already dreading stepping into those halls.

''Maybe I liked it..'' Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung to pull him closer into a hug, pecking kisses against his cheeks to annoy him in his sleepy state.

''We have to get ready, like, right now!'' He pressed one last kiss on his lips before getting off the bed, grabbing a snug, black long sleeve to pull over his torso.

Taehyung slowly made his way out of bed, butt-naked as he searched for last night’s clothes.

Thankfully they’ve dried up quite a bit, but the rain’s aroma still lingered in the fabrics.

The elder wasn’t especially thrilled to waltz into school looking.. like, well, put together.

But he didn’t want to bother Jungkook, so black, tight jeans would have to do.

Tae stared at his reflection in the mirror, quickly running his fingers through the waves. He grimaced, nothing seemed to tame the wild curls.

“Fuck it.. let’s go,” the elder fished for the keys in his pocket, throwing on his shoes— double-knotting the laces like always.

Once he got in his car, Taehyung nearly had a heart attack.

That goddamn stuffed animal. It was smiling at him through the rear view mirror.

Shit, he still didn’t know what to do with it.. did Jungkook still want it? Does he throw it in the dumper?

Maybe he’d give it to Jisoo, something told him that Yuna would love it..

Jungkook quickly followed, ignoring the fact that the bear was mockingly smiling at him as well as he sat down. He clicked the seatbelt on before patting Taehyung's thigh reassuringly.

"Don't worry too much. I'm not angry anymore, okay?" He nudges his chin towards the bear.

"I don't really want it...." he felt kind of bad for saying it, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stand staring at it after what it is associated with.

"But we could give it to noona?" He mused-- he still owed her a fucking apology. Maybe this would serve as an apology...

"Anyway...don't worry about that. Let's go." Jungkook sunk into his heat, eyes focusing back ahead.

Taehyung sighed, but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t blame the younger for not wanting to keep the stuffed animal. Truth be told, Tae himself wouldn’t be fully comfortable with seeing its cheery face every time he visited Jungkook’s apartment.

One, it was creepy as fuck. And secondly, it was a mere reminder of his selfish doings.

Taehyung just... he wanted to move past that. He wanted to do better, for his boyfriend.

“Yeah,” he started the car, “noona’s kid would probably like it.”

Practice was over in the flutter of an eye— thankfully. Tae didn’t know how much more physical activity he was able to bear with a noticeably sore ass. It was a blessing that he managed to keep his nonchalant facade intact for so long. Trying to act like his boyfriend didn’t just make sweet love to him last night was hard..

Sweaty from working out, Taehyung briskly stripped out of his practice attire, using his jersey to wipe at the dampness on his glistening neck.

“Tae, should I be concerned?,” Hoseok looked, well, concerned.

“What’s up with the giant teddy bear in the back of your car?”

“Yeah, Chim and I saw that too.” Yoongi casually chimed in, pointing over at a half-naked Jimin who was busy typing away on his phone, deaf to the chatter surrounding him.

Taehyung—who was growing annoyed by the topic of that stupid bear— simply brushed it off. “it’s for a friend. She has a little girl, so..”

As if knowing exactly whom it was for, Namjoon defeatedly shrunk in his spot, too much of a wuss to make eye-contact with Jungkook.

He wondered if the younger was still mad..

Sitting in their usual lunch table, they talked about a plethora of topics. However, the newest conversation specifically aimed at Jimin; everyone wanting to know what was keeping the latter so invested.

“What’s got you so hooked on that phone, Chim?”

“More like who..” Hoseok teasingly nudged at his friend’s side, encouraging him to spill it out. Jimin was extremely defiant at first, but his hyung’s loud presence wasn’t something you could just ignore.

“Nothing.. it’s stupid, but— long story short, I downloaded a dating app.”

A series of “oo’s” traveled around the table.

“Oh yeah? Did you meet a girl or something?”

Jimin turned to look at Namjoon, expression so distraught yet.. confident. With a soft exhale, he corrected the elder.

“Actually.. It's a him. His name’s Mino.”

Taehyung abruptly stopped chewing on his cereal, sharing a curt glance with his boyfriend.

“Mino..” Jin pondered out loud, “like the rapper from WINNER?”

“Obviously not, hyung.” The younger rolled his eyes, a bit frightened by the lack of words.

Seeming to notice his distress, Yoongi softly encouraged Jimin to expand on it further— after asking if every single one of his friends were gay.

“I don’t know, we’ve only talked for a few hours.. but he’s really cool. Sweet, too— oh, and he’s also obsessed with strawberries, just like you Tae!”

The boy’s eyes lit up at the topic, obvious to all he had a massive crush.

“Yeah? What else do you know about the guy.” Taehyung took a bite of his strawberry, interested in knowing more.

Finally growing more comfortable, Jimin’s shy smile resurfaced.

“Uhm.. he’s twenty-three, and he teaches little kids. How cute is that? He’s into video games, if I remember correctly.. Animal Crossing is his favorite. Halsey! He enjoys listening to her music... also, he’s really pretty.”

“Damn, Jimin. Just marry the guy already..” Jin snickered.

“Chim’s whipped.”

The subject of the matter pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Am not.. it’s just— ah, he texted me!”

Taehyung snorted in amusement, shaking his head before looking at Jungkook.

“Wish you’d text me more. You’re a horrible texter, you know.”

Jungkook's eyes had been balling back and forth during the conversations, from half-glaring at Namjoon (even if he'd calmed down, honestly--Namjoon was just a clutz. She seemed fine... he hoped.), to his gaze softening at the way Jimin was swooning over his new crush-- a boy, even!... The way his eyes lit up was heartwarming.

Then, during his entire daydream, Taehyungs words burst his little bubble. The younger breathes out a chuckle through his nose, nudging his boyfriend back.

''Why would I text you when you're with me every day?'' He wrapped an arm around Taes shoulder to pull him closer with his strong arm-- from any outsider it would simply look friendly. ''Or do you miss me that bad during class too?''

Taehyung kept his eyes trained on the tray in-front of him, mindlessly picking at his cereal as a distraction from Jungkook’s hold.

Now that their friends knew about their relationship, they didn’t miss the opportunity to coo at the couple-y sight.

As a natural response, his cheeks got stained with a rosy pop of color. Tae shrugged out of his boyfriend’s grasp, though, a petty attempt to seem unfazed.

“Duh..” He sassed, aggressively munching on his buttered toast.

“Why else would I send ‘everyone here sucks, kinda wish you were here’ texts? And you know how you repay my affection? By leaving me on read.”

Taehyung childishly huffed, coming across as needy for the younger’s attention.

Jungkook withdrew his arm and flashed a toothy grin towards the elder, shrugging as well in response.

''I will reply next time, promise.''

He glanced at the clock, ignoring the repeated cooes from his hyungs.

''Speaking of class, it's almost time to go,'' He nudges his boyfriend once more.

''I'll make sure to check my phone often then, but don't expect me to be glued onto it like Jimin..'' He jokes, the rest of the group snickering-- however Jimin remained unfazed, too caught up in his own little bubble that is his cellphone.

As they all separated to go to their respective classes, Jungkook sat down by his desk, placing his cellphone by his stack of books, only paying the lecture half of his attention as the other half was constantly glancing over at his device. This time he would reply.

A few minutes into the lecture, Taehyung already had his cellphone in his hands.

His boyfriend’s contact was displayed on the screen, a picture he snuck of Jungkook sleeping set as the younger’s profile.

Biting at the corner of his bottom lip, he began typing away, curious to see how fast it’d take Jungkook to reply.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 i’m trying to pay attention in class but my ass is still sore 😒 be glad I love your big dick just as much as I love you 😙

Jungkook picked his phone up much quicker than he'd like to admit, swiping the one sided wall of previously sent texts sent by his boyfriend. The last text received made the younger's cheeks flush in pink along with the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He immediately began tapping at his screen, a foreign concept to everybody who caught a glance at jungkook in the classroom.

To: Tae🐯💜 Haha... you took it pretty well. Maybe next time you can give me the same treatment🥴 now I can't pay attention either... love you!

The elder chuckled— a bit too loudly, but he brushed it off as a cough.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 maybe.. 😏 if you keep replying I might just have to give you a big surprise

Taehyung sat his phone down, but the emptiness in his hands didn’t last long. Soon enough, he was back to texting Jungkook.

Tae wasn’t fully pleased, the sudden drive to see his boyfriend was too overpowering to ignore.

To: Kook🐰🤟🏼 actually, meet me in the secret spot behind the school?? ‘m needy for a kiss

“Uhm, Mrs. Jung?” Everyone’s head swiveled towards Taehyung, “can I use the restroom?”

The elderly teacher seemed to think about it for a while, the creases in her forehead wrinkling even further as she visibly frowned.

“Sure. But be quick.”

The boy nodded, sliding back on his chair before practically jogging out of the classroom, excited to hold his boyfriend.

Jungkook held his promise of replying once, but didn't even bother sending anything else, his phone shoved back into his pocket as he excused himself. As soon as he left the classroom, he too sprinted towards the hidden spot behind the building. If he had this kind of speed during practice, he surely would have been deemed the golden maknae all over again.

Jungkook rocked on his feet as he waited for his boyfriend, actually fishing up his phone for once to send a quick text.

To: Tae🐯💜 I'm here!! come!!! T3T

“Maybe next time I can give you the same treatment, huh?” Taehyung’s cheeky smirk shifted into a genuine smile when he approached Jungkook, teasingly recalling what the younger had sent him over text.

Unable to take the distance for a second longer, Tae ran into his boyfriend’s arms, not wasting any time peppering his face with loud kisses.

Fuck.. Taehyung was the definition of whipped.

Not worried about anyone catching them, the elder slowly drove Jungkook’s back against the rusty wall, lips attached to the younger’s in a gentle kiss.

When he pulled away, Tae’s hooded eyes were drawn to his boyfriend’s face, raking over every little detail.

“You replied,” he broke out into a silly grin, playfully squeezing at Kook’s hips. “You’ve grown~”

Jungkook hummed into the kiss with content, hands reaching up to run his fingers through Tae's messy hair. He obviously didn't even bother fixing it up since last night,

''I kind of get why Jimin can't unglue his phone from his eyes, anticipating a text is dreadful.. I couldn't focus on anything.'' He sighed in a fake dramatic voice, leaning his head back against the wall. His gaze was in complete tunnel vision for his boyfriend, a grin widening on his lips as he proudly announces his terribly awful joke--.

''If you're gonna keep kissing and praising me like that something else will grow.''

Well, it did have some truth in it.

A raspy laugh emitted from the back of Taehyung’s throat, who shook his head in utter disbelief. By the time the hearty sound gradually quieted down, the elder’s tongue swiped over his still swollen lips; which had yet to simmer down from their previous make out session.

“Oh yeah? What else..?”

Taehyung pressed his thigh against Jungkook’s crotch, playing with his boyfriend’s senses whilst he wore a shameless lopsided grin.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

He pressed on it harder, somewhat making out the thick shape of the younger’s cock as he faintly moved his leg, practically kneading the spot in between his boyfriend’s legs.

Acting as if he didn’t just do any of that, Taehyung outstretched his arms over his head, holding back his prickling smile.

“The weather’s lovely today, isn’t it?”

A not so subtle sigh emitted from Jungkook's lips, morphing into a low whine at the way the elders knee massaged his length.

"Oh, fuck off..." he smiled, the light tone of his voice indicating the affection in his curses. His boyfriend surely knew how to tease back-- it must be a revenge from the countless times the younger had teased him first.

"We're gonna end up skipping the entire day if you keep going--" his voice was cut off by another shameless gasp, kooks fingers curling into fists as they grasp Taehyung's shirt to pull him back into a needier kiss, teeth almost clashing together between the heavier breaths, "making me needy" he murmurs his muffled words between their kisses.

Taehyung’s teeth tugged at Jungkook’s bottom lip, lightly nibbling on the soft skin as if asking permission for his tongue to intrude in the pit of warmth. His hands grasp his boyfriend’s waist, roughly manhandling the boy as he pulled him towards his body, deepening his deprived hunger for their kisses.

“Maybe I wanna make you needy.” The elder's velvety voice purred into his ear, one hand placed on the slope of his boyfriend’s nape, drawing him all the more closer.

"But we shouldn't.."

It was too risky, the lust wasn’t worth the hassle.

With a quick glance downwards, Tae’s chuckle rang once more. Their hard-ons were prominently poking at the fabric of their pants and with the little space between them, they inevitably brushed against one another.

“Later tonight. Get ready,” He leaned in to press an innocent kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek, purposely leaning in closer than needed for additional contact, their hardened, clothed cocks pinning together for a teasing second.

“I don’t wanna leavee..” Taehyung groaned in annoyance, finding their alone time to be more entertaining than class.

Jungkook whined in annoyance, a small pout on his lips as his doe eyes stared at Taehyung, "And you call me a tease...." he sighs with a smile, still keeping a tight grip on Taes shirt, hesitant to let go. Eventually, however, he did; instead letting his hands fix Taehyung's mess of a hair once more. Or at least attempt to.

"Let's head back then before I change my mind, I'll drag you to the ground if you even look at me." He scrunch his nose in a giggle, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend on the nose.

Much to their disclosure, they weren’t alone, someone else had been recording their supposedly secret interaction.

What they planned to do with the footage? No one else knew but them. And whatever the outcome was, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

The last class of the day was soon done and over with, making Taehyung ecstatic as he hastily packed his things (packing as in shoving his loose pieces of paper in his backpack), aiming towards the door with hurried steps.

Ever since his last interaction with the younger, Tae’s been awfully.. needy.

His sexual hormones were bouncing off the roof, tauntingly chanting ‘Jungkook, Jungkook,’ again and again until that was all he knew.

As Taehyung made his way to the common common area, he shamelessly wondered if his boyfriend would be up for fucking in his crappy car again.

The elder knew he’d said they would wait until tonight, but ‘tonight’ wasn’t right now.

Damn, Tae would love to try out different positions in such a compact space..

It was thrilling.

Oblivious to him, students’ un-welcomed stares dug holes in his back, watching the boy’s every move with utter shock— utter revelation. It was as if they were the camera lens themselves.

There was no way Taehyung was the other guy in the newly surfaced video, right?

Jeon Jungkook was one of them— for sure. He was unknowingly facing the shot, kissing another boy— who appeared to be Tae— with a bunny grin on his beaming face.

The video started with them making out; Jungkook’s doe eyes fluttered shut as Taehyung held him close, head slightly tilted to the side.

The frame zoomed in on the two boys’ comfortable posture, the elder could be seen rubbing his knee against Kook’s crotch, the latter slyly smiling in response.

Then more kissing, Taehyung whispering little things in his boyfriend’s ear..

To wrap things up, the footage cut off at the soft kiss on the elder’s nose, proceeding to zoom in on their tangled hands whilst they walked out of sight.

It was messy.. to everyone else but Taehyung. He waited for Jungkook in the same area as always, brushing off the ill looks thrown his way.

Jungkook hurried from the lecture room as soon as class was dismissed, backpack thrown over one shoulder as he walked in brisk steps through the hallways-- not as oblivious to the drilling looks coming his way. However, he was rather used to it by now-- so it didn't phase him as much as it probably should..

But then again, why? People haven't looked at him that way since he came out... and he rarely checked his phone, so he was completely unknowing of the circling video.

He shrugged it off, heading towards the common area to find his boyfriend idly waiting for him, the younger opted to jog to close the distance between them & nudged Taehyung on the shoulder.

"Hey! Waited long?" He grinned up at Tae, but it quickly faded as he once again noticed the murmurs and looks of basically everybody around them. Jungkook's eyes roamed the room, but decided to let them land back on Taehyung.

"Lets go?" He started to feel weirdly uncomfortable with all the stares, he wanted to get out of there.

As they headed out, a group of guys-- specifically the jocks that had called Jungkook a f*ggot without him knowing to Tae, had started to whistle and throw slurs towards the boys.

"The fairy put you under his spell huh?" One chanted, the others quickly laughing and motioning taking a dick in their mouth, "Hey, Taehyung! Are you the girl or the guy?!" Another snickered.

The more time they spent displayed in the common area like a plague, Taehyung’s natural obliviousness slowly diminished until all he became was hyper aware of his deafening atmosphere. The murmurs were exceptionally quiet, but they hit his ears like breaking glass.

He mindlessly nodded at his boyfriend whilst he challenged the students’ nosy stares with his own, asserting his dominance over the situation as they aimed for the nearest exit.

Unaware of the next obstacle they were going to have to face, Tae hesitantly parted his sealed lips, about to ask Jungkook the burning question they were both thinking— ‘what the hell was that?’— when Kai and his clique approached them with confident strides.

“W-what..?” Very much disoriented, Tae forced out a strained chuckle, “funny..”

The boy tried to play along with their obvious joke, his awkward laughter blending in with the group’s taunting snickers.

“No, dude..” Haechan amusingly corrected, “who takes a dick up the ass? Who’s the girl in the relationship?”

The elder’s chest shriveled up into an uncomfortable knot, and so did his throat as he was barely able to utter back a word.

What..?

“What— what relationship?” He shakily asked, completely disregarding the other foul comment. Glancing over at Jungkook, the look of fright on Taehyung’s face was evident.

“This relationship,” a phone was shoved into their faces, replaying the invasive video that had been going around all day.

It seemed like it would never end..

Taehyung swore he felt his heart drop.

“Uhm—“

“Fucking disgusting if you ask me.”

“N-no.. it’s just..” His breathing was uneven, eyes blown wide as they stared blankly ahead.

Fuck— this was too much too soon.

By now, a small crowd had gathered around them, only adding salt to Taehyung’s aching panic.

“F*ggot!” One of the guys deliberately spat in the elder’s face— not literally, but it sure felt like it.

Tears rushed to the brim of Tae’s eyes, which had yet to decipher into their normal shape.

He was having trouble breathing, clear in the way his chest vigorously heaved in its place. His face was drained of any color, and the buzzing in his ear was getting hard to bear.

Taehyung hadn’t even noticed their close friends had stepped in on their behalf, Yoongi’s vulgar curses sounding like pure gibberish.

He couldn’t move, it was as if he was glued to his place.

Shit, Tae wanted to disappear.

And so did Jungkook. He was frozen in place as he watched the video, their privacy suddenly open for all to see. Not that he was ashamed of them, but because whether this was a secret or not; it was their moment of privacy, invaded.

Kook quickly glanced over at his boyfriend, mouth parting and closing several times as he struggled to find his words, his worry for the elder growing more important than the worry for what everyone else thinks of him.

He wondered what Taehyung felt... even if it was an invasion of their privacy, he seemed ashamed of them. That didn't go unnoticed.

However he decided to shrug it off, instead focusing on getting them the fuck out of there, tugging at Taes arm.

"Come on." He murmured as he pulled the elder with him, grateful for his hyungs shooing everybody away. He'd have to thank them later; but now all he could focus on was taking his boyfriend out of this situation.

After finally being able to pull Taehyung out of his frozen spot, Kook guided him towards a more secluded area next to the school building to wait until the parking lot would be less crowded.

"Hey," Jungkook softly uttered as he cupped Taes cheeks to try to get in contact with him-- he seemed completely out of it. The younger doe eyes were blown wide with concern.

"Hey, it's okay."

Taehyung didn’t believe that for a second.

It wasn’t okay, their relationship was just outed to the whole goddamn school! What.. what if his father finds out one way or another?

What if he gets ridiculed for the rest of his senior year?

The elder forcefully withdrew from the other’s grainy hands, his cheeks beginning to sting from Jungkook’s touch.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” was the first thing Taehyung muttered, gripping at his hair in agitation. “I-I shouldn’t have.. fuck!”

More fresh tears rushed to his eyes, glazing over the anger that was still present, raven fringe shielding the hurt they obtained.

Jungkook took a step back like he'd been punched in the gut by Taehyung's reaction, his hands falling limp to his sides as he stared at the male in front of him. Tae was almost unrecognizable in Kook's eyes.

''Wha-- Tae, calm down...'' He took a breath of his own, as if trying to take his own advice and remain calm.. But it was fucking hard, it felt like Taehyung was shoving the blame on them, or him for this.

Jungkook curled his hands into fists, unsure what to do when his growing uncomfort hurled over him. He wanted to hold Taehyung, but the elder didn't seem to even want to touch Jungkook, acting like his touch was comparable to fire.

''Taehyung, sit down--''

“Yeah,” Tae scoffed, “calm down..” he boldly mocked the younger, jaw tightly clenched in its place out of anger. Finally, he shifted his anxiety-drunken gaze to his boyfriend’s dimmed eyes, nostrils flared up as his overwhelming emotions once again got the best of him.

“What the fuck is that gonna do, Jungkook?!” He roared in the boy’s face, remaining composure unwinding with every barbarous word.

“The damage is already done! Great, we’re the f*ggots of our school now.”

Taehyung breathed out a soft, saddened laugh, running his hand down his face in boiling regret.

Shit, how much he wished he could go back in time and prevent this bullshit from happening.

“Wha— you were facing the camera anyways, why didn’t you notice?!”

'F*ggots of our school.'

Another verbal punch thrown into the younger's gut, causing him to flinch at the mocking tone. Now it was Jungkook's turn to feel his anger slowly boiling up in his veins that were growing prominent in his arms through the hard, clenched fists to his sides, nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths.

''Why are you blaming me?! I didn't see anybody!'' His voice no longer had any sign of worry, instead laced with frustration. What the fuck was going on with the sudden, undeserved hostility?

Jungkook took a step closer to his boyfriend. ''It's not the end of the world!'

Taehyung stumbled back a couple steps, ensuring there was a noted distance between them.

“I know it’s not the goddamn end of your world!” He angrily retorted back. “but for my fucked up.. trashy, hell of a world it is!”

The elder’s brittle voice wavered, the veins in his neck significantly strained.

“Jungkook.. if— if my father finds out..” The corner of his lip twitched at the mere thought of his worst nightmare, curtly snapping his head to the side when he felt his eyes sting with more tears. Sadly, Taehyung feared for his well being whenever he was around that monster. If he found out that his son was dating another guy...

The elder didn’t want to think about the possible consequences.

“This is—“

“Hey! Guys, we were looking for you..” Jimin and Seokjin ran towards them, gradually stopping midway when they made out the tense aura oozing off of the wanted pair.

Their postures were rigid, and judging from the look in Taehyung’s face, things weren’t looking too good.

“You can get a ride from them, right? I’m leaving.” The elder left Jungkook on his own, unbothered to wait for a clear answer before walking off towards his car, the tightness in his chest having yet to cease.

“Jungkook..” Jimin hesitantly reached out for his friend, resting his smaller hand on the younger’s shoulder.

Jungkook was left speechless at the sudden turn of events, again.

He hadn't even been able to process what the fuck had just happened-- just an hour ago they were excited to go home together, and now Taehyung left the younger alone without even a single look.

Kook flinched when he felt Jimin's hand on his shoulder, not even registering that they were there until Tae was out of sight.

''I'm gonna... uh, walk home.''

God knows he needed it.

''Jungkook, no, let us drive you?'' Jimin tried, but he knew it was useless. Their youngest was obviously upset-- for good reason probably, and his much needed space was understandable.

''Nah, just-- I need to go.'' Jungkook sighed, glancing over at the worried looks of his hyungs, ''Thank you.''

Without another word, Jungkook threw his backpack over his shoulder and headed towards his apartment, mind constantly replaying the words thrown at him just mere minutes before.

He stepped inside of his apartment, letting his bag fall to the floor along with his jacket, mindlessly kicking off his shoes before slumping down into his couch with a thud, fishing his phone out. He knew he shouldn't, but he pulled up the video circling on the snapchat stories, seeing peoples terrible commentary to the event. Anything from the overused slurs to mocking the two. But what kook truly focused on was the two men in the video, the zoom of their intertwined hands walking off at the end. It hurt to watch-- because he missed Tae’s touch, the mere memory of Taehyung flinching away from his touch made his chest ache.

Should he text him? Jungkook rarely did.. Or did he need time alone? Fuck, he needed to relax. It's fine, right? Like every other fucking time they fought, they'd bounce back.

Jungkook decided to simply put his phone down and go to bed instead, hoping things would have cooled off by tomorrow.

Taehyung disregarded the sound of the familiar alarm, letting him know that it was time to get ready for practice.

He barely slept last night, feeling alienated in his spacious bed. Taehyung had gotten too comfortable with Jungkook, even his own bed felt.. strange, like it wasn’t the right fit. His room— in which he’d spent most of his time hiding— didn’t feel the same, either.

With an unpleased groan, Tae blindly followed the dreadful ring with his ears, finally taking his phone into his hand before putting it on silence.

He didn’t want to get bombarded with judgemental stares during the day. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. So.. Taehyung didn’t bother to find out for himself. The elder had barely any energy left in him, proved by the way his eyelids threatened to close with every passing second.

Jungkook drowsily turned his alarm off as soon as it rang, arm automatically reaching over out of habit towards the empty space next to him. He sighed deeply. So it wasn't just a fucking dream, then.

He wondered what today would be like.

Hopefully Taehyung had calmed down and rationed things.

But, to the younger's surprise-- Taehyung was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into practice. His eyes roamed the court, craning his neck to find the face he wished to see.

''Hey Kook!'' Jimin chimed, hopping towards his younger friend, ''How are you feeling? Are you okay?''

Jimin put an arm around Kook, leading him towards the anticipating group, their eyes flickering between Jungkook and each other.

''Hey, uh..'' Namjoon began, but was quickly interrupted by Yoongi.

''Where's Taehyung?''

Yoongi flinched at the kick on his shin from Hoseok.

''I, uh...I don't know? I thought he'd be here.'' Jungkook shrugged, masking his obvious worry and frustration. Maybe he just needed more space than Kook thought.

The entire day was dreadful, from enduring all the stares and whispers from what felt like every single student in the school, to attempting to focus in class. It was useless. All he could think about was Taehyung.

Finally, the bell rang-- the younger able to head home, his phone glued to his face on the way. Still radio silence. It wasn't like his boyfriend to go this long without any contact...

When Kook finally got home, he opted to try to send a text:

To: Tae Hey, are you okay?

Jungkook read his text over and over, even added a 'Miss you', but decided to delete that part before hitting send. It was simple, but the least he could do was reach out.

A deep sigh left his lips before he repeated the same routine of worrying, showering, eating a half-assed meal and heading to bed. Tomorrow he'd surely come.

Taehyung spent the majority of the day laying under his covers, safely tucked away from his troubles.

The only excuse for his feet to touch the ground was when he needed to use the restroom, or when his stomach audibly protested for its first bite of food.

He’d seen Jungkook initiate a text, but unlike the previous times, he wasn’t extremely eager to answer.

Even the slightest bit of movement was physically draining.

When his father came home, Taehyung had yet to move from his lying position.

Now he had more of a reason to stay put.

He’d fallen asleep soon after, and by the time Taehyung checked his phone, it was 10:34 in the morning.

Fuck.. well, why bother going to school now, right? His first hour class had already passed.

Taehyung didn’t think about sending one of his friends a text, mind too foggy to act unselfish.

They probably weren’t even worried, and with that incorrect thought in his head, Tae fell back asleep.

If that first day wasn't already long and dreadful, the second day was next level for Jungkook.

Once again, Taehyung hadn't shown up to practice, nor did he show up to school at all.

And it didn't help that his hyungs were up his ass about it too.

'Where's Taehyung?'

'Is he sick?'

'Are you guys okay?'

Were they okay? Jungkook didn't fucking know. He couldn't get a hold of the boy. And to think of it-- the elder hadn't even replied to the text. Worried was an understatement at this point.

Jungkook got through the routines of the day, minutes felt like hours without his boyfriend, and as the day had started to melt together, the bell rang once again, the day over.

He headed towards the common area once more, internally cursing himself out for automatically expecting Taehyung to stand in his usual spot-- only feeling his chest tighten when he wasn't.

Kook walked home slowly this time, oddly enough checking his phone more frequently for any sign of Tae, but to no avail. If he wouldn't show up tomorrow, he'd definitely have to do something about this.

To everyone’s surprise-- Taehyung’s included-- the boy went back to school after his two-day streak of absence. He figured he couldn’t skip out on his remaining months, no matter how tempting it was to just.. vanish. As a side effect of his profound anxiety, Tae was more reserved than usual. He feared getting flooded with any unwanted questions, and his peers’ shameless murmurs only worsened his internal turmoil.

Maybe toughening up was a shitty idea; the second he stepped in those halls the wall he’d built for himself came crashing down.

With his hood shielding him from the outside world, Taehyung walked into the locker room. His steps were far from confident, and to anyone with a pair of working eyes it was obvious Tae was practically pushing himself to not curl up into a ball and feel bad for himself.

The elder feared hearing that word, it was weird in its own way. Whenever the slur was directed towards Jungkook, Taehyung didn’t think twice before throwing a punch. However, when it was meant for him he felt weak. He hated it.

However, nobody had uttered a single word towards Taehyung as of yet, only murmurs amongst themselves-- not even his friends. Not even Jungkook, who kept at a distance as he watched the elder ignore everybody like he was in his own bubble.

Kook was surprised to see him, and still seemingly in a weird state of mind…

Was Taehyung gonna say something? Should Jungkook say something? He felt weird about it-- and the constant glances from everybody else made him hesitate. He didn't want to make it worse..

Instead, the younger opted for throwing quick glances every now and then, hoping Tae would be looking at him as well for any indication that they'd talk. But he got nothing, and it was almost eerie.

It was frustrating as hell.

Jungkook hoped that as the locker room emptied out, Taehyung would stay around for a private conversation, but that was apparently not part of the plan as Jungkook watched the elder turn to leave without a word once more, kook following behind in silence. This day was gonna be long.

The elder failed to make every basket during practice, his aim was off, and his overall stance was stiff. It worried Namjoon, not only because one of his best players was lacking, but because his friend had his head in the clouds.

He’s never seen Taehyung this out of it..

But then again, when someone’s been forced to come out by a silly video roaming around the school, it was reasonable to be scared.

Namjoon just would’ve never guessed Tae was one of the people who were easily affected by useless chatter. He’s always deemed the younger as strong, fearless.

Joon had yet to be proven wrong.

Taehyung showed up today, and the elder found that to be the epitome of bravery.

If he was in his shoes, Namjoon wouldn’t know what to do. Not show his face in school, that was for sure.

In that moment, it had been established that Tae was far stronger than he was.

“Joon, can I get a drink of water.”

He’d been in the middle of a speech when Taehyung interrupted. Usually Joon would’ve scolded him for it, but with the way the morning’s been going, the elder simply nodded like a bobble head.

All watched the gloomy boy step out of the gymnasium, all the while Joon’s eyes were glued on Kook. There was definitely something going on between the two.

Namjoon waited a couple of seconds, anticipating Taehyung’s return.

Either the latter was extremely thirsty, or he used that as an excuse to leave mid practice.

“Uh.. I need someone to fetch me some extra basketballs. Jungkook? Can you do that?”

Really Namjoon was just giving the younger one a reason to chase after his troubled boyfriend, hoping they figure things out amongst themselves.

Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a second as soon as Namjoon gave him a chance at chasing after his boyfriend. A quick, grateful look given to the captain was all he gave before heading out the door, mind still swirling with his thoughts. Anxiety was a bitch, always amplifying and spurring on his worries-- and the way Taehyung was acting didn't help at all.

Jungkook finally found the familiar male bent over the water fountain. A part of him felt relieved just seeing him in the flesh, he wasn't randomly gone-- and by the looks of it, he hasn't gotten hurt..

Before, Jungkook had been hesitant, even cautious to talk to the elder, but after this amount of time, he'd grown tired of this shit. It wasn't his fault, none of this!

"Taehyung." Jungkook breathed the words out, as if he hadn't said them in so long that it felt.. weird, yet familiar. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for his boyfriend to tell him anything. Why weren't they talking this through?

Taehyung’s muscles tensed under the intrusive voice, slowly straightening his posture as he made a great effort to meet Jungkook’s hardened gaze.

“Look.. I’m not in the mood to talk, alright?”

Taehyung attempted to walk around the younger, feeling as if there was a vacuum sucking all the air out of his lungs.

For all he knew, someone could be recording them right now, stepping into their personal problems without an invite.

Jungkook swiftly stepped in front of Taehyung, blocking the way with his wider frame. His eyes squinted in frustration, fingers digging his blunt nails into his own biceps to keep himself as calm as possible. Tae really had the nerve to say he doesn't want to talk?

"Are you serious? I've worried for two days and that's the first thing you say?"

Taehyung breathed out in exasperation, wanting nothing more than to push Jungkook out of his way. The latter was visibly stronger so Tae decided to stay put, at least for now..

“You didn’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.” He mirrored the younger’s stance, arms tensely crossed over his chest.

Jungkooks common ritual of frustration appeared in the form of his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek, the annoyed head tilt following as he tried to read the expression in Taehyung's face. Why did he suddenly feel like a stranger? Why did he suddenly feel like the old Taehyung?

"You're kidding me... stop acting like this, just fucking talk to me!" Jungkook untangled himself from his own arms to place his hands on his hips. "I can't stand the silence."

“Maybe I don’t fucking wanna talk to you! Ever thought about that?!”

The elder’s chest heaved, bigger hands balled up into tight fists at his sides. He let out a shaky exhale, lowering his brittle voice after a few seconds of scraping around for his inner serenity.

“Ever thought about what I fucking wanted?” His fragile tone was a distraction from the deafening silence.

As if Jungkook was a contagious disease, Tae cowardly stepped back.

“I— I tried to please you, Jungkook,” the elder continued, “even when I wasn’t comfortable with— with showing public affection, or letting you hug me in front of other people, I still did it.”

Taehyung shook his head, as if not believing he allowed himself to fall so deep.

“Hell, I wanted to make you happy. I couldn’t say how scared I felt.. or my take on the situation. And you know what? I wish I would’ve put me first.”

More silence..

“I wasn’t fucking ready like you were! I-I just... wasn’t.”

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair, breaking down with every truthful word.

“Maybe if I listened to my gut, none of this shit would’ve happened.”

Jungkook took in every word, each one of them building to his whirl of emotions clashing in his chest. He wasn't sure what to say, arguing with the elder is like talking to a wall sometimes...

He exhaled a shaky breath, eyes averting Taes as he stared down at the ground. A short nod followed, his jaw muscles clenching. Jungkook just wanted them to be good again, but the elder continuously pushes that thought away with his words.

"Fine." He murmurs, no longer feeling the need to speak to Taehyung when all he got thrown at him was blame. He took another step back, slowly distancing himself as well before he would lose his temper-- the urge to fucking punch him was burning. And yet... the other part of him wanted to cry. This entire situation was just pure shit...

Taehyung didn’t build on what he had to say, simply walking around Jungkook now that he seemed more inattentive of his surroundings.

The elder saw the millions of thoughts flashing through his boyfriend’s glazed eyes.

He felt guilty; Tae didn’t particularly get off on angering the younger, or leaving him close to tears. But he had to get that off his heavy chest, he was already short of breath. Leaving the uncomfortable mass to linger would’ve been deadly.

Jungkook took a deep, silent breath as he waited for Taehyung to be out of sight until he came back down to reality. He still didn't entirely get the uncomfortable tension between them. It was so sudden...

Jungkook had to take a moment, fighting his fight or flight instincts telling him to get the fuck out of there. He pushed the emotions down, completely forgetting about the instructions from Namjoon to get the basketballs as he headed back to the court. Hopefully practice was over soon anyway. He just wanted to go home.

The rest of the long day Taehyung spent avoiding Jungkook, succeeding in doing so considering they didn’t share any common classes. Before, that was something Taehyung wished was different.

He wanted to be in the same class as his boyfriend, anything to be close to him.

Now? He was glad that wasn’t the case, it would hurt too much to make eye contact with him from across the room.

Tae’s blurry mind wasn’t on board, however, the younger was all he thought about.

Jungkook was all he knew, in a sense. It felt weird not being able to talk, to send him pestering messages only for Kook to ignore them, picking out the marshmallows in his cereal to give them to him..

It sucked, but Taehyung knew space was the medication they needed.

The elder was up in his room, shaky thumbs hovering above his phone’s keyboard whilst he stalled on Jungkook’s contact.

He’d been thinking about how unstable their relationship was; how they always fought more often than not— how most of their loud bickering was because of something he’d done.

Taehyung didn’t know how the fuck to act in a relationship, he was a piece of shit.

His boyfriend deserved better.. he deserved a guy who’d proudly show him off, kiss him without any fears, hold his hand without worrying about outsiders’ stares. Someone not nearly as messy.

Tae harshly wiped away a stray tear, inhaling softly to stay grounded.

He’d already made up his mind, but /fuck/ was it hard to actually go through with it..

Exhaling, Taehyung quickly typed out the same phrase that’s been haunting him all day, pushing ‘send’ once he was done.

To: Kook I think we should break up.

Taehyung knew that if he read over it once again, he’d lose all courage to end things.

He was only looking out for Jungkook, after all.

On the other end of things, that was the exact opposite of what Taehyung did.

#fic: Love maze #vkook fic #taekook fic #taekook series #vkook series #bts fluff #bts smut #bts series #sombreboy #bts mxm #taehyung x jungkook

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Note

Draft #4 and #41? Are they too different to combine? Maybe a 5+1 fic.... 5 times Michael explores his queerness and 1 time he and Alex go all out to a queer club (in ABQ or LV or LA)? 😉😃😘

freedom has no price

here it be! I’m super proud of this (with the exception of the last part but we can’t all be winners) and a special thanks to @draculaspetbee for helping me out with the 4th part! hope you enjoy!

ao3

.1.

Wind combed through Alex’s hair, but it only slightly made his bottle of nail polish wobble in its place in the bed of Michael’s truck. The two had been laying there for hours in the presence of each other. Regardless of how hot New Mexico summers could get, the desert was the best place for them to be. No one could spot them out there. The last thing they needed was someone telling Alex’s dad that they were still seeing each other, even when they knew he’d be leaving for God knows where in less than a month specifically so he wouldn’t be around Michael.

But Alex enjoyed being around Michael even though he was risking some dangerous consequences. Even if being around Michael consisted of watching him read a tattered up textbook he borrowed from the library on quantum mechanics. Alex was growing to love that stupid book though. Every 10 minutes or so, he would sit up dramatically and announce something Alex hardly understood, excitement radiating off his body like a teenage girl who’d just gotten a text from her crush. Alex then got to watch him collapse into his sleeping bags and read some more with big, engaged eyes. Michael didn’t seem to mind the fact that he couldn’t move his left hand whenever he had Alex and a book in proximity. It gave Alex a fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

“Y’know, Alex,” Michael suddenly said, taking Alex’s eyes away from his nails. They were dry for the most part since he’d only been touching them up. “I think you’re the only guy in the world who can pull makeup off that well.” Alex cracked a smile, gently using his socked foot to nudge his thigh.

“That’s just not true,” he laughed. Michael pursed his lips, resting his head on the book as he stared up at Alex.

“Okay, maybe not, but you definitely pull it off the best,” Michael decided. Alex shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the boy he felt ungodly blessed for knowing. Michael made him feel like he was safe and wanted and Alex was drunk on it every time he looked his way.

“I don’t know, I think you’d look sexy in makeup.” Michael’s cheeks flared up a bright red and he turned his nose towards the book, trying to hide the sheepishly smile.

“Shut up,” he whispered. Alex was sure his heart skipped a beat and he was overcome with the urge to make sure that smile didn’t go anywhere. He leaned closer, placing his hand on the back of Michael’s thigh.

“Nah, seriously. I mean, you’re already sexy as hell, but… some eyeliner? Mascara? Maybe even paint your nails? Fuck, Guerin, you’d be…” Alex tried to find the right word to make him squirm as he cautiously inched his hand further up. Michael was chewing on his lip, staring at Alex with daring eyes.

Michael was always unpredictable. Sometimes he seemed to be the nerdiest and most innocent boy in the world. He’d blush, he’d giggle at neck kisses, he’d occasionally prefer to ramble about physics in lieu of making out if not at the same time. However, other times, he’d basically be possessed by a trained seducer. He’d smirk and flash the most challenging eyes in the world, he’d tease in a way that made Alex forget his own name, he’d lure a side of him out he didn’t know existed. He dreaded the idea of leaving it all behind.

“You know, you can… you can do my makeup whenever you want,” Michael said. Alex moved his hand to the small of Michael’s back.

“Well, I have a few things in my bag if you’re tired of psychics,” Alex suggested. Michael sat up.

“Okay,” he said, letting his physics book fall to the wayside.

Alex was a little shocked that he was actually willing to let him put makeup on him, but he sorted through his bag anyway. The idea of making his manly, psychics-loving mechanic boyfriend all pretty with eye shadow and lipstick had him feeling giddy. He never thought Michael would let him.

After screwing the top back on his nail polish, he scooted closer to Michael with his makeup bag in his lap. It wasn’t a big collection and he definitely planned to have more one day, but this would do for now. Michael grabbed his knees and pulled him basically into his lap, smiling as Alex made himself comfortable.

“First of all, we need to get this out of the way,” Alex said, using his fingers to try and push Michael’s curls away from his face. However, it didn’t work very well as they just bounced right back into place. So, he fished in his bag and pulled out a bobby pin, securing the thick curls out of his face as best he could. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this, accept that I’m right and close those pretty eyes,” Alex instructed. Michael licked his bottom lip before listening. Alex dried it with his thumb which earned a content sigh from his boyfriend.

They fell silent as Alex pulled out the small eye shadow palette Maria had gotten him for his birthday. He used his middle finger to put the gold color on his eyelids. Michael was a calm participant, hardly flinching even when Alex lined his eyes with black eyeliner.

“The first time I put on makeup, I flinched like fifty times,” Alex commented.

“I was Isobel’s test dummy the summer before freshman year. Those were never good looks,” Michael said. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Well, I’m doing my best to make you look decent,” he insisted.

“I trust your skills more than I trust 14-year-old Isobel’s,” Michael admitted. Alex just hummed in response and chose not to focus on that compliment, pulling out his mascara.

“Blink for me,” Alex instructed softly. Michael did as he said until his eyelashes were evenly coated. He couldn’t help but smile at his work. He was right, add a little something and he would look fucking gorgeous. He couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, trying to follow when he pulled away. Alex held him in place.

“One more thing, open your mouth.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Alex rolled his eyes and searched for his gold-colored lipstick that he admittedly spent his first paycheck on. It was so pretty that he just couldn’t help himself even though he knew he’d never have an excuse to use it. Now felt like the perfect excuse.

Alex held Michael’s jaw and carefully coated Michael’s bottom lip with it.

“Now rub your lips together like this,” Alex said, showing him what he meant and watching him messily copy. Alex spent a few seconds touching it up and then leaned back, taking in his full face. “That’s a really good color on you.”

“Thank you,” Michael answered even though he didn’t even know what it was. Alex sort of wished he knew more about makeup if only to do his face even more justice.

“Wanna see?”

“Yeah.”

Alex pulled out a compact mirror and gave it to him, watching him open it to look at himself. Michael stared at himself and blinked a few times as if he didn’t know how to react.

“Do you like it?” Alex asked softly.

“Yeah,” Michael answered.

He kept sneaking peeks at his reflection for the rest of the evening. Alex didn’t say anything.

.2.

“I think you would look good in a dress.”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that.”

Cassie Anderson had met Michael Guerin the way she met most boys that were too pretty to make sense: at a bar that was so run down that he seemed to glow in comparison. She’d seen him shooting pool and had bought him a drink. She didn’t realize that would lead to her spending seven nights in a row with him in her bed, trying anything she asked with the utmost respect.

It was strange to have a twenty-year-old boy be simultaneously really good in bed, really gorgeous, and respectful as hell. It made her much more comfortable asking for things than she usually was with men she’d only known for a week. She liked that.

“Why not, have you ever worn a dress?” she asked, rolling onto her stomach to look at him. He was still laid out on the bed with limbs splayed in every direction, face entirely blissed out. As masculine as he was, he took a strap like a champ.

“No,” he said, tilting his head in her direction with that sweet little smile he wore whenever he was willing to entertain whatever she wanted, “But I’m not really built to fit in one.”

“I bet I could find one in my closet that would fit you,” Cassie suggested. He blinked slowly and then started to turn his body toward her.

“Oh yeah?” he said. She smiled at him, wide and confident. She reached over and placed her hand on his slightly hairy stomach, rubbing just enough to get that content little sigh from him.

“I know you like being macho, but you’re pretty too,” she said. Michael rubbed his eyes and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll entertain your vision,” Michael said, “On one condition.”

“What?” Cassie asked, already smiling as she sat up.

“It stays between me and you. No making fun of me to your next boy toy, alright?” he said, voice playful as he sat up.

“Of course,” she agreed easily. He grinned and leaned in for a kiss that she accepted. In her 26 years of living, she’d never met a man so down for whatever. She would be sad to see him go whenever this eventually had to end. However, she liked the idea that he’d stay a fun memory.

Cassie climbed out of bed and headed to her closet, searching for something that had some type of lace-up to cinch to his waist. She was a little bit bigger than he was and a little bit taller, so that felt like a necessity. She found one that was floral against black and a string lacing up the back. Perfect.

She brought it to him as he laid all posed on her bed. She rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet, relishing in his light-hearted laughter. He was so cute it was hard to manage sometimes. How the hell had she gotten him to come back so many nights in a row, again?

“Raise your arms,” she instructed. Michael smirked.

“You gonna dress me up, Mama?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed. He obeyed though that shit-eating grin never left his face, letting her pull the dress over his head. It was a little tight over his broad shoulders, but not so tight he couldn’t lift his arms so it felt like a win. “Turn around.”

Cassie tightened it to his waist, creating a faux hour-glass figure that his shitty jeans could never. When she spun him back around to face her, she took a step back to admire him. As expected, he was fucking gorgeous.

“You look hot,” she said. He smiled helplessly. “No, seriously, you’re so pretty.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, come see,” she urged, pulling him towards the body length mirror. She continued to admire him and felt a familiar heat pool in her stomach as she watched him admire himself. He twisted a bit in the mirror, a different shade of confidence on his face. Suddenly it wasn’t just confidence about his behavior, but about how he looked. “See, you’re gorgeous.”

“Maybe,” Michael agreed, biting on his bottom lip. She grabbed his hips gently and he leaned into her. “Okay, so maybe I’m pretty.”

Cassie laughed and moved her hand to tilt his chin for a kiss. He folded into it, turning around to press himself into her and deepen the kiss. She smiled through it, her hands wandering and pushing up the skirt of the dress to feel the skin of his thigh.

“You’re so pretty,” she breathed.

“I feel pretty,” he agreed.

If they played dress-up for a few more nights before going back to being strangers, no one needed to know.

.3.

“Your skin is smooth.”

“Yeah because I shave and use moisturizer, take the lesson.”

Benny Giuliani had been pretty entranced with Michael Guerin the moment he saw him. He may or may not have gone to get his car fixed for dumb things five times before ever asking if he might be interested. He found it hard to guess those kinds of things and, eventually, Michael had to do the actual asking. Benny had simply sat there fumbling over ‘well, you see, is there any way you might be, like, I don’t know’. He accepted the teasing Michael gave him for it with ease.

“I didn’t know guys could shave,” Michael breathed, hands still roaming over his arms and his chest as he kissed his neck. Benny tried not to get too distracted by it, but it was admittedly difficult. He liked him so much.

“I used to be a bodybuilder,” Benny told him, “It was sort of a requirement. I like how it feels, though, so I kept it up.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed, biting gently on his shoulder and soothing it with a wet kiss. Why had he waited so long to come out? He could’ve had cute boys kissing on him way earlier. How had he gone 30 years without men and then three more years without this one in particular? “I’ve thought about it.”

“I-I could teach you,” Benny offered, gulping softly as Michael pressed hard into back and kissed his neck. God, how did anyone focus?

“That sounds like the least sexy thing you could teach me,” he said in a low voice, pushing into his back harder. Benny laughed, catching him before he basically toppled them both off the bed. He pulled Michael around him to where he was sitting on his lap. He instantly went in for a kiss.

“Does everything I teach you need to be sexy?” Benny asked against his lips. Michael hummed and rubbed Benny’s bearded cheek, grinding his hips down just enough to be distracting. “I can teach you how to shave, one gay guy to another.”

Michael broke the kiss and leaned back.

“I’m not gay,” Michael said. Benny’s eyebrows met in the middle in confusion.

“Then what are you?”

“I’m...” Michael started, pausing for a moment as the gears turned in his head. Benny waited patiently. How could a man who so confidently hit on him in public not be gay? “I’m Michael. I don’t do labels. I like what I like.”

“But you like men,” Benny pointed out.

“You’re only the second guy I’ve been with, I usually hook up with women,” Michael said. Benny’s stomach dropped and insecurity he hadn’t felt in awhile built in his stomach. “But I do like you, I like hooking up with you. I just… I’m not gay.”

Instead of dwelling on the topic that made him want to throw up in confusion, he chose to backpedal in favor of a different, lighter conversation.

“I can still teach you how to shave,” Benny said, reaching up to touch his face. He was so… small. He couldn’t be upset about how he chose to label himself when he was still so young. Twenty-three was too young to know anything, right? “I bet you’d like the way it feels.”

Michael breathed in deep and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his mouth.

“Okay,” Michael agreed, “Teach me.”

Benny lifted him off the bed and carried him towards the bathroom which earned him nothing but sweet giggles. It melted most of his worries about Michael’s intentions with him, but he still tried not to get too attached at the way he was holding onto him.

He sat Michael onto the counter and tried to let go, but was pulled in for a kiss that lasted a little longer than he expected. He didn’t complain, completely entranced by the way he kissed and the way he existed. Michael was a closed book who refused to tell him really anything about his personal life. Benny didn’t know where he lived or what he did for fun. He didn’t know who his family was or about his childhood or about his sexual history. He didn’t share. He was just kind and willing to do whatever and it was hard not to be attracted to that.

Eventually, Benny separated from him and pulled out a pack of disposable razors and grabbed a fresh one. Michael was leaned back against the mirror, watching him with a smile and half-lidded eyes. He always looked at him like that, like every move he made was something worth watching. It made it even harder to understand how he didn’t consider himself gay.

“You wanna take off your pants? It’ll make it easier,” Benny suggested. Michael smirked that filthy fucking smirk.

“Sounds like you have an ulterior motive,” he said. Benny smiled and shook his head, hoping his beard covered up the fact that his face was turning red. “Don’t worry, Daddy, I listen well.”

Yeah, the beard definitely didn’t hide the blush well enough.

It took a few minutes, but soon he was showing Michael just how to shave his legs. Then it led to his arms and his chest, basically leaving his entire body so smooth that even he couldn’t help but touch. He was in nothing but his tight black boxer briefs, his tan skin glistening with water. The only hair left on his body was basically covered, only showing with a line coming from those boxers and the wrecked mass of curls on his head. He looked like a fucking god.

“I think I look pretty,” Michael acknowledged. Benny watched him drag his hand over his own chest, watched him look at himself in the mirror with nothing but intrigue. He stared at himself and his hand gradually got lower, his briefs so tight that Benny thought it had to hurt. He swallowed hard and took a grounding breath.

Benny pulled out his favorite lotion and gave it to him.

“Seriously, it’ll change your life,” Benny told him. Michael just tilted his head, pouting slightly as he laid against the mirror again.

“Why can’t you do it for me?” he asked softly.

So he did.

Their time together only lasted a few days, but Michael stayed on Benny’s mind for years.

.4.

“Incoming.”

Riley looked over their shoulder at the warning the bartender, Maria, gave, trying not to roll their eyes at the man coming their way. He walked with an all too confident swagger and leaned against the bar, eyes not even trying to pretend they had another destination aside from Riley.

“Never seen you before,” he said, tilting his head to the side. Maria laughed at him and slid him a drink that he didn’t even have to ask for.

“Don’t fall for his shit, Riley,” she said before walking away. The guy just smiled and Riley decided to entertain him at the very least. There was nothing better to do in this shit town.

“Riley, huh?” he asked. They nodded and took a sip of their drink. “I’m Michael.”

“And you also apparently have a reputation.”

Michael simply grinned, baring his teeth in a way that said he knew exactly what the hell he was doing. “Maybe.”

Riley finished off their drink, wondering just how many people had boosted his confidence for him to think he was charming through a simple smile. Granted, he was charming through a simple smile, but he didn’t need to know that. Riley shifted to face him completely.

“So, you new around here?” he asked. Riley smiled easily, tilting their head to the side to match Michael’s.

“Is that the best pick-up line you have? That’s kinda sad,” they said. Michael’s smile broke out into something wider, rubbing his hand over his chin.

“You got me there,” he said. Riley sat patiently as his eyes looked them up and down as slow as humanly possible. They had to admit it, they liked that. Confidence truly was key. Michael moved just a little closer, not even paying any mind to his drink. “But it still doesn’t answer why I haven’t seen you before. I’m pretty sure I’d notice.”

Riley reached out and grabbed the drink that was meant for him, enjoying the amusement in his eyes when they took a sip. It was fun to make him wait.

“I moved here for work,” they answered eventually.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a mechanical engineer in the army,” they said. Something flashed behind his eyes that they couldn’t quite catch before it was hidden away again.

“You must make a lot of money then,” Michael said. Riley huffed a laugh, shaking their head at him.

“That’s not something I share with strangers.”

“Let’s not be strangers then.”

“Okay,” Riley agreed, “Let’s not.”

Michael licked his lips and moved closer, fully entering Riley’s personal space. Honestly, they didn’t mind. In fact, they liked it. He was cute and he was interested. Maybe he wasn’t the best idea, but no one around could convince them that it was the worst either. What else could one ask for in a one-night stand?

“So, what’s this for?” Michael asked, reaching out to touch the flag patch on the right sleeve of their jacket. He made eye contact to clear that it was okay to touch which was more than Riley could say about most people that hit on them.

“It’s a pride flag,” Riley told him, “It means I’m non-binary.”

Michael nodded slowly, eyes only a little confused. “Which means…”

“It means I don’t really fit into the whole gender binary thing,” they said. He nodded a little more confidently and smiled, his hand still on their arm as he seemed to fit the pieces together in his mind.

“Cool,” he said, his hand sliding a little further down to a different patch, “So then what’s this one?”

“I’m also bisexual,” they told him. Michael’s eyebrows pulled together and he continued to stare and, honestly, it was weird that that was the one that caused his brain to short-circuit. “It means I like all genders, by the way.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, tilting his head up to look at them with an actual serious look on his face. “So, like, how did you know?”

“That I’m non-binary?”

“No, that you’re bisexual,” he said, not moving out of their close proximity despite the fact that the tone had completely changed. Riley just tilted their head in confusion, waiting for him to add more of a question. In the grand scheme of things, their sexuality had seemed to be the most obvious thing. They liked boys, girls, etc. Simple as that. “Like, when did you realize that’s what it was? And not that it was something else.”

“Well, labels are pretty subjective, so it depends. Why?” Riley asked. Michael looked at them in the eyes, still confused and curious all at once.

“Okay, so, say I’ve slept with women and men. Does that make me bisexual?” he wondered. Riley held back a sigh. So much for a one-night stand.

“I don’t know, do you think it makes you bisexual?” they said. Michael just stared blankly at them. “I can’t tell you what you feel. Did you like being with both men and women?”

“Yeah.”

“So, maybe you are,” Riley said, which was the first thing to make Michael take a sobering step away. This time they actually did sigh. “Or maybe you’re pansexual. It’s really up to you on what fits the best to the way you feel.”

“That’s stupid, I want someone to just tell me,” he grumbled. Riley rolled their eyes and laughed. It seemed to bring a little bit of ease back into the conversation. “Say I was bisexual. That means…”

“That you’re not alone in the way you feel and whoever you’re attracted to is completely valid, you just have a word for it now,” Riley finished. Michael smiled at them and, again, moved in closer. Maybe the door for a one-night stand wasn’t closed.

“You’re pretty cool,” he acknowledged.

“I knew that, but thanks,” they said. Michael snorted a laugh.

“No, but seriously. Thanks. I’ll have to look into it a little more,” he said. Riley nodded.

“You should.”

“But, for now,” Michael said, leaning just a little bit closer, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I want you to know that was the worst build-up I’ve ever seen,” Riley told him. Michael smiled, big and unashamed. “But I’m not in the mood to say no, so let’s go.”

The two of them made it all the way to Riley’s truck before Michael moved in all the way, kissing them finally. They knotted their hands in his shirt and pulled him in closer for a biting kiss. He seemed to fold into that, willingly being pushed into the side of the truck.

“I know I didn’t give much of a build-up, but I can give you one now,” Michael said in a breathy tone between kisses, “You’re really fucking hot.”

Riley grinned and kissed him harder. “I know.”

Michael laughed, “It’s okay. I already know I’m hot.”

“I’m sure you do.”

It took awhile, but they eventually made it back to Riley’s place. They spent the night talking and fucking until the sun rose before agreeing to see each other again. That one-night stand turned into a four-night stand before tapering off into just nodding to each other in public.

Yeah, Michael Guerin absolutely wasn’t a bad idea.

.5.

Alex pulled Michael into a damn near suffocating hug when he saw him again.

It was Alex’s twenty-sixth birthday and he’d just signed his life away for another four years, but that didn’t even matter if he got to be home with Michael again for a few days. He missed him like life itself. How the hell had he gone so long without him?

“I missed you,” he whispered against his neck, pressing a kiss there for extra measure. Michael squeezed him tight right back. They stayed there for a while in that goddamn airport just hugging the life out of each other because they could.

“Let’s go,” Michael murmured, “I wanna go home.”

Alex agreed without hesitation.

The drive home was agonizingly long and quiet, but Alex stayed tucked as close to Michael’s side as he could. He knew if anyone around here saw him, a man in uniform, cuddled up to a man that looked like Michael, they’d both get the dirtiest looks. So he closed his eyes.

“Hey, you know you mean the world to me, right?” Michael asked, so soft that Alex barely heard it. But he did and he smiled, pressing in closer.

“Yeah.”

“So, can I tell you something I figured out while you were gone?” Michael continued, voice still hesitant and soft.

“Yeah, anything,” Alex agreed, reaching for the hand he didn’t have on the steering wheel. He cradled it between both of his encouragingly. He wasn’t quite sure what Michael was preparing to say, but he was open to whatever he had to say. Honestly, he just liked hearing him talk. He missed him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Okay, so you know how we agreed we could hook up with whoever while we’re apart?” Michael said. Alex opened his eyes and tried to ignore the sick feeling he felt because of that. He tried to school his features as best he could and pushed away the urge to think of the worst case scenario.

Instead of asking what he did, Alex said, “Yeah.”

Michael took a deep breath and pulled over into the desert, putting the truck in park and turning to face Alex completely. Alex had no idea what to expect and was beginning to get nervous. He played the last thirty minutes over in his mind. Michael hadn’t kissed him hello, but they never did, but did that mean something bad this time? Were they over? Had he found someone new?

“I don’t know how to preface this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it,” Michael said, letting out another heavy breath, “I’m bisexual.”

Alex felt his entire body deflate and he put his hand over his racing heart with a laugh, trying to calm himself down over that frankly miniscule reveal.

“You scared the shit out of me framing it like that, you know?” Alex said. He realized that was probably the wrong reaction when he noticed that Michael hadn’t moved, staring at him with nervousness written all over his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re not mad at me?” he asked softly. Alex felt like he had whiplash from that statement, sitting up straight and turning to face him completely.

“What? Why would I be mad at you, baby?” Alex said, softening his voice as he reached up to caress his cheek. Michael still seemed reluctant to buy it. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I said I’m bisexual,” he repeated, “I’m not joking.”

“I don’t think you’re joking,” Alex assured him, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. He moved closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I just thought it was something serious.”

“I am serious.”

Alex stared at him for a moment, took in his face and the almost fear in his eyes. For a moment he hadn’t even considered that he might be feeling the way Alex did when he came out to someone new. Bisexuality just didn’t seem like as much of a problem, especially when you were talking to someone you were already sleeping with and, for the most part, people wouldn’t think anything of it. He could pass as straight or gay with no problem depending on the occasion.

And that was the problem. He was beginning a never-ending cycle of coming out over and over and over to whoever he spoke to.

“Why would I be mad at you for that?” Alex asked again, shaking his head. Michael shrugged.

“Some people don’t like that.”

“Well fuck them. Thank you so much for telling me,” Alex said, scooting even closer to the point he was almost in his lap, “I’m sorry I laughed. You didn’t laugh when you found out I was gay, I’m sorry. I just really thought you were going to say something bad so it was sort of a relief.”

Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes and resting his head against his. Alex cradled his head in his hands.

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me things. Seriously, thank you for telling me,” Alex told him, “Have you told anyone else?”

Michael shrugged. “The person who taught me the word, but that’s it. I wanted to tell you first because I figured you’d be a safe person to tell.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t care what you are as long as you’re happy,” Alex told him, weaving his fingers into his hair, “I’m sorry I laughed.”

Instead of talking more about that, Michael moved in for a kiss. Alex accepted happily, pulling him in closer. He missed kissing him more than he could even put words to. He missed him. He dreaded the fact that he had to leave him again. One day, he wouldn’t have to. One day, they could be together.

“You sure you’re okay with it?” Michael asked one more time. Alex smiled.

“I’m more than okay with it,” he told him, pulling him back in for a kiss, “How does it feel, though? Coming out of a closet you were never really in?”

Michael laughed, a genuine sound that was so, so much better than the nervousness of before. Alex kissed him again through it. He never wanted to let go.

“Good,” he said, “It feels good. Really good. A weight off my shoulders, honestly.”

“I love that for you,” Alex told him, giving him one last kiss, “Now let’s get home and celebrate for real.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

It was all fun and games until Alex admitted that he’d re-enlisted. He left a few weeks later, more unsure than ever about his and Michael’s relationship. But, hey, they’d gotten through shit before.

What was one more bump in the road?

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

Michael couldn’t help but admire Alex as he leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. He looked good as fuck, dressed head to toe in black with a leather jacket and tight jeans. His hair was growing out nice and perfect and Michael just adored him. But he had to take his eyes away to focus back on not cutting the area around his ankle.

"Why are you shaving your legs?" Alex asked, stepping in further and sitting down on the chair that was in front of the sink. Michael stole another glance. That was his boyfriend. His for-real-this-time boyfriend. Wasn’t that wild?

“Because we’re going out tonight,” Michael said like it was obvious. Which it was. Michael didn’t really try to keep it a secret anymore about what he did and didn’t like to do. After some trial and error in life, he’d realized that the best way to exist was to do exactly what he liked. So he shaved his legs and he wore a skirt and did his make-up when they went out to a club. He was out and proud and it felt good.

“Mhm, we are,” Alex confirmed, “We’re supposed to leave in ten minutes though and you’ve got a lot of getting ready left to do.”

Michael gave him an innocent smile before just pursing his lips for a kiss. Alex rolled his eyes and dragged the chair closer to the bathtub, leaning to give him a kiss before sitting back down.

“Isobel’s gonna be pissed that we’re late,” he pointed out.

“She’ll get over it,” Michael insisted. Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head.

“How about this, I’ll do your face while you finish up that? It’ll speed it up,” Alex suggested. Michael flashed a wide smile. He liked when Alex did his make-up. It made him feel like a teenager, confused and in love. Honestly, that’s how he felt around Alex most of the time anyway.

With a little bit of telekinetic energy, Michael brought his make-up collection to Alex’s lap. It was a bit of a team effort to do, but it did indeed pass the time. Granted, it also made Michael want to just pull him into the tub with him and kiss him until his lips were numb, but that could wait.

Eventually, they both finished and Michael dried off as carefully as possible. Alex just sat and watched which, honestly, Michael understood. He could watch Alex get dressed and undressed over and over for the rest of his life. Sometimes, he even liked watching himself get dressed and undressed. Alex didn’t seem to have a problem with that either.

Instead of wasting more time thinking about that or the fact that Isobel was already honking her horn outside, he got dressed in a short white skirt and a relatively loose, white button-up that was only about one step away from completely see-through. He tucked it into the skirt before double checking that his hair and face looked alright.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Alex told him, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to his neck.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.”

Michael turned around to kiss him, honestly wanting to just stay home at this point. He liked getting dressed up and he liked looking like a fucking wreck and Alex liked him regardless. It made him feel loved in a way that he couldn’t quite find the words for most of the time.

“Isobel is going to piss off my neighbors if we don’t go out there soon,” Alex murmured.

“Okay, okay,” Michael sighed, “Let’s go.”

It was strange to think that it had taken him so long to find exactly where his place in life was, especially since he’d honestly had right in the beginning. No matter what, Alex was a safe place to call home and explore and love. No judgement, just him. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t seen that immediately. Or maybe he had. But, honestly, those what if’s it didn’t matter anymore.

He was happy .

Simple as that.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #roswell new mexico #my fic

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nadiaportia · 5 years ago

Text

Familiar Faces - A Past Tale

Summary: A fugitive plans her next move to leave behind her old life until she crosses paths with a magician who wishes to see behind the facade.

Starring Asra Alnazar and Ximena Rubalcada.

“Ha! You're very welcome, Kestrel, this's payback for last week!” The man laughed loudly as he took the coins of the table, much to the dismay of the other players.

“Oi, Viv, drink of their choice for everyone in here, my treat!”, he said to the smirking bartender. People around him cheered and even I lifted my empty jar of beer in acknowledgement before turning back to looking at the map laid out in front of me.

Several spots were marked; places I had traveled to in the last 5 years and ultimately never stayed longer than absolutely necessary. Technically my two month stay in this backwater town a five day journey away from Macawi Port had already been too long but I liked it here well enough and the people enjoyed having a magician among them. No one bothered to ask questions, something that wasn't the norm in places like this - the smaller the village, the more suspicious its inhabitants were of strangers.

But here I had been able to rent two rooms over a bakery, one for me to live in and the other to do business in - making wards and remedies for small maladies, casting protective charms and reading my customers' cards was run-of-the-mill stuff which I had already done before and always managed to be a hit with the locals. I had not been asked yet to do some of the shady stuff people with no morals would ask for, such as brewing love potions or cursing their rivals, and was more than glad for it.

Viv the bartender waved at me and pointed at the finished drink in my hand: beer with two vermouth shots. I nodded. My real alcoholic drink of choice - Cartagense liquor that tastes like herbs and vanilla - would've been too much to ask for in a place that on most days didn't even offer something besides beer. I doubted the people here had ever even heard of Cartagenth existing but the risk of getting discovered was something worth worrying about, no matter how small it was.

I eyed the city of Hjalle on the Western coast of the Strait of Seals. I had never gone to the South before; nothing about this place had any appeal for me whatsoever, be it the known lawlessness or the biting cold, but it was known that from Hjalle ships left to places much further away than from Nevivon, to the Far East and even to other continents. The language barrier would surely be a problem if I decided to take the jump over the ocean but I couldn't be the only traveler from here and lingua francas surely had to exist, which would make everything a lot easier. The bigger problem was that I couldn't tell how much money I'd need to take such a ship, especially if since I had to spend some coins to take the journey from Macawi Port to Hjalle first, and from what I heard it was a decently sized city - less than perfect conditions.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the tavern door swinging open and saw two people entering. Both wore dark travelers' cloaks, which was exactly where their similarities ended. The taller and apparently older one of them had long flaming green hair, skin white like paper and their eyes hid behind orange glasses that made them look like an exotic insect and extremely out of place. The shorter one had a head full of white curls, golden brown skin, and… was that a snake that had just disappeared in his cloak? I raised an eyebrow. Strangers were not only a rare sight in here but extravagant strangers? That was downright fishy.

“Hey there, travelers, c'mon over! 'S always nice t'see new faces! Viv, two beer for these fine folks!” The lucky winner of the card game waved them over his table. The newcomers looked at each other, seemed to agree and approached them.

“Good evening. It's always nice to arrive to a place and have such a warm welcome.” The insect spoke with a high melodic voice. Both had their backs turned to me so I couldn't see their faces, and standing up to move would surely seem suspicious.

“What're your names? Mine's Cygni, that one over there’s Viv, and these are Kestrel, Alexei and Yelma.” He gestured to the other players.

Both travelers pulled chairs to the table and shrugged of their cloaks. “I'm Saray and my companion here,”, they put a hand on said companion's shoulder, “is Asra. We come from the city of Vesuvia on the other side of the Salty Sea.”

“Proper northerners, eh? That's pretty far away, has anyone here ever been t’Vesuvia?”

Various “No's” were said from all corners. I generally kept away from big places after unpleasant run-ins with Cartagense in Bizatena and Karnassos, and had kept an extremely low profile afterwards. Vesuvia wasn't exactly a place that screamed 'This is where you should hide!' to me and even though never having heard of any treaties between its sovereign and Cartagenth, this could have changed in the meantime.

“What 'bout you, Magali? You're from some place on the other side of the Sea.”

I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head and forced myself to take the deep breaths. There was nothing I wished more for the ground to open and swallow me whole. I looked up from the card to see the travelers and Cygni look at me with curiosity in their eyes. The insect's, Saray, eyes were still hidden behind glasses whereas their companion's, Asra, were a light purple and framed by long white lashes.

“Yes, from Nopal.” I said, keeping my voice as cold and uninterested as I could. I had no interest in speaking to these travelers or in them shoving their noses into my business.

The one called Asra perked up. “Oh, really? It's such a beautiful place, I've only been there once but it's breathtaking.”

I felt my eyelid twitch. “Yes, it is.” I pressed the words out more than speaking them and made a point to turn my attention back to the map in front of me. A single bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck.

“Don't mind her, she's a very busy woman. Y'know, Magali is a magician who has settled down only a few weeks ago-” I tuned out the next of Nevil's words and fought against my rising desire to hex his mouth shut. Keeping my eyes glued on the map without really seeing what I was pretending to look at, I deeply wished to have the ability to disappear right here and now. Great, now the strangers' attention was on me without a doubt and my wish to bolt for the door when I saw the one named Asra get up from his chair and make his way over to my booth was almost suffocating.

“May I? I'm sorry for being so excited but it's just… it's such a coincidence to walk into a foreign tavern that far from home and meet another magician!”

If I had ever suspected the spirits that controlled the ways of the World had all come together in some shady backroom to conspire against me personally, this must've be the definitive proof of it. There was no way in hell that this could be a coincidence, I wouldn't have it or a friendly chat with this Asra.

“I suppose so. But as your new friend had already said, I'm quite busy and would like to be left alone.” I said coldly and cursed myself for never actually having gone to Nopal, otherwise I would've been able to learn the accent, but who would've known I'd meet someone who has actually been there in a village which most people have probably never left? After all, it was technically true, with the Rubalcabas originally coming from Nopal, but who was going to explain details?

Asra's shoulders slumped and his expression saddened.

“Of course, I understand. Apologies for disturbing you.” Something in his clothes shuffled and my eyes went wide when a snake crawled out of his left sleeve. It looked at me with the same curiosity its owner had given me and blinked.

Friend!

I jumped from the chair, hitting my kneecaps against the table in the process and gasped at the sudden pain.

“Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!” Asra was at my side in an instant and put his hand on my back as I bent over in pain. “Faust usually knows better than to frighten people, I guess she was just as excited as I was.”

I waved away his concern and bit my lip and I sat back down while rubbing my knees.

“No, don't blame your familiar. Wasn't her fault. Mine's like that too-.”

I bit my tongue just as I realized what I had just said. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You also have an familiar?” His eyes went wide and he beamed at me. Instead of an answer I coughed and tried to look at put together as I could.

“Of course, all true magicians have one. Now, please…” I turned my attention back to the map, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. But he didn't move away, in fact he didn't stop staring at me. Strangely enough, I didn't sense any danger from him and something about his youthful face and his eyes gave me the sensation of… trust. But spies could have any age; in fact the younger they were, the less people suspected them to be spies, and sometimes being unsubtle even played into their hands.

“Oh, that sure is true, but you don't need to be a trained magician to have one! All you need is to be decent at magic and have a connection to an animal.”

“Hmpfh.” Of course I knew that, did he take me for a fool?

“You certainly traveled very far, I see you have been to Prakra and Firent-”

I pulled the map away from the table and his eyes, rolling it together.

“Okay, I get it, you don't want people shoving their nose into your business.” He spoke with resignation and sighed loudly. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I thought I made that very clear.”

Asra ran a hand through his hair in obvious frustration. “I know, but please, I- I can't explain it but-” Then he seemed to have an idea. “Do a reading for me.”

“Come again?”

“A reading. Let the cards tell you what to do.”

“I don't need cards to tell me what to do: I'm leaving.” Map in the hand, I stood up and passed by Viv, who opened their mouth to ask me why I was leaving even though I was just about to get my drink.

“Please, I- I came here for you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart stopped beating in my chest and blood freeze in my veins. Heat built around my fingers and I considered the situation I was in. Viv was still standing behind me, if I were to attack now they could get caught in a crossfire. The tavern was half full with more than enough witnesses and the door was too far away for my likening.

I slowly turned around “What?”

Viv, still standing between one, ducked and hurried out of our way, not before throwing me a wide-eyed look. Asra sighed, his face flushed from nervosity and also what I suspected to be embarrassment.

“Look, I don't know why but something called me to this village and I think it was you. I don't know who you are or what you do, I just felt something familiar when I looked at you.” He sighed. Now I had heard all kinds of talk about intuition and prophetic dreams, be it from other magicians or back home, but this right here just seemed a little too far-fetched - or painfully honest.

“I give you a reading, understood? Let me get my cards from my place, and don't try anything funny like following me.” I snarled but to my surprise, he held out his hand as if to stop me.

“Here, take mine.” He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a deck of dark blue tarot cards. I eyed them suspiciously and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I won't use another magician's deck, I'm no fool.”

Asra shrugged. “Really? I didn't think there'd be people left who still believed in that particular superstition. But fine, get your own cards.”

I frowned. “I'm not superstitious.”

Asra sat down in the seat opposite the one I had occupied and put the deck in front of him. “Good, so let's get started. I'll let you get a feeling for them.” He winked at me and a mischievous smirk played about his lips. “How am I supposed to trick you by letting you use my cards? Hexing them? Besides, a true magician should be able to call the bluff.”

My face went hot as I made my way back to the table. “I know. I'm just being cautious.” The Vesuvian was definitely more at ease once I sat down and gave me an encouraging smile. I took the deck and looked at the cards. They were obviously self-made, the depictions of the Major and Minor Arcana unique, with the archetype being represented by humanoids with animal heads. The deck felt… friendly, and not in a false way. I shuffled the cards and laid out three in front of him all while not taking my eyes off him. Neither did he, and his smirk widened as I arched an eyebrow as if to ask him why he seemed to want to challenge me.

I took the card in the middle first. Two snakes were embracing and looking at each other lovingly. The Lovers, upright. I frowned, yet the words spoken to me by the two snake people were clear as crystal; in fact, they were the clearest reading I have ever done. There was no doubt what the cards were trying to tell me, they were incapable of lying to me.

“Oh, the Lovers! Most curious.” Asra said and looked from the card to me.

“You are on your path to begin a new relationship, but it can only be successful if you make yourself clear in what your intentions are. Once you manage to connect, it will only make both parties stronger through their shared bond.” I said the words half to him, half to myself, and looked inquisitively at the card. I half-way expected it to laugh in my face and call bullshit but nothing of the sort happened.

“So… there we go.” I finished, trying to ignore how unsure I sounded. “Good news to you, I suppose.”

Asra smiled. “Might I return the favor?”

I blinked. Here? No way.

“Not the best place.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward silence between us, until I took a deep breath. Please, intuition, don't fail me now. If he does turn out to be a spy or an assassin, I'll never trust my gut and judgment ever again.

“My place is just a stone's throw away from here.”

The Vesuvian blinked in surprise and pursed his lips, then he seemed to realize what face he was making and instantly put on a more serious expression.

“Of course. Just let me tell my traveling companion that I'm… uh, gone for a bit.”

“Fine. But I don't want them to suddenly pop up there too.”

He nodded and walked back to the table where the insect and the card players were seated, all deep in conversation.

“Asra, my dearest, are you done with your magician business? If yes, join us for a game of cards, these fine people are most entertaining to be around with!” Saray said. They had still not taken off their glasses but from the accent in their speech I suspected them to belong to one of the many ethnic groups that lived in Prakra.

“Not yet, Saray, Magali actually wanted to show me her workplace.”

The card players looked at each other and smirked. The one called Yelma let out a wolf whistle.

“Let's be quick about it.” I murmured and snapped my fingers to get Asra's attention. Together we exited the tavern and I closed the door behind us.

We crossed the market place, passed by the small fountain in its center and reached the bakery. A brief fumble for my keys, a door being opened and we went up the stairs into the first floor.

“Guess your place always smells really nice.” Asra said.

“Yes. They also wake up at four in the morning to start working.”

He laughed as I entered the first room, the one where I usually worked in. A soft and questioning chirp got both our attention when I light up a candle from afar.

Segismundo looked at me from his usual sitting spot and tilted his head.

“Yeah, I know. Visitors that late are rare but don't worry about it.” I said to my familiar as he flew onto my outstretched arm.

“Oh, what a beautiful Quetzal! What’s his name?”

“Segismundo.”

“Very nice to meet you, Segismundo, my name is Asra and this here,”, he caressed the snake that had crawled out of his sleeve again, “is Faust. Sorry for disturbing you, you were probably sleeping.”

Segismundo looked from him to me and then to Faust, who herself was looking at him with pure curiosity. Ruffling his feathers, he shook himself and flew back to where he was before, right behind my seat.

“He doesn't take kindly to strangers.” I explained. I didn't mention that the fact that Segismundo didn't alert me but merely checked on who exactly was invading our space was a good sign... for them as much as for me.

“Familiars tend to be like their magicians.” Asra smirked and sat down at the low table where I would usually sit at with customers. “Quetzals are usually native to the rainforests beyond the Catclaw Desert so I guess you might be Nopali - even if Magali is a name I have heard a lot often when it belonged to people from Venterre.”

I said nothing and opened a drawer to get the tarot deck.

“Do you want something to drink or a snack? You didn't have anything at the tavern, if memory serves right.”

“A tea, but maybe for another day, I like to let it brew for a bit and I don't think you want me to be here longer than absolutely necessary. Snacks would be appreciated though, what do you have?”

“Hazelnuts and almonds.” The sooner I got rid of them, the better. These Eastern sweets had nothing on the deliciousness of roasted cocoa beans and maracuyas.

“Oh, why not?” All too happy I handed him the bowl on top of the drawer. “Since you used my cards to do my reading, I'd ask you to let me use me yours. You can decline, of course, but-” Wordlessly I handed him over my deck before he could continue and crossed my arms.

“Oh, thank you.” In the candlelight I got a much better look at the Vesuvian magician and studied his face as he regarded the cards. His hair looked soft to their touch and reminded me of cloudy summer days in Cartagenth. His skin was clean without any wrinkles but with a healthy glow to it, his eyes had a spark of mischief in them and a mysterious smile seemed to be his default expression. He couldn't be beyond his early twenties.

“Those are very beautiful cards, I don't think I have ever seen a design like this.”

“Thank you, they were a family heirloom.” Technically the truth. My cousin Agustín, the only close family member I had left who didn't hate me or wanted my death had given them to me in a back alley in Bizatena, shortly before I had seen him for the last time. He had previously stolen them from his mother's, my aunt, collection of magical artefacts and given them to me as a parting gift. You have a lot more use for them than if they were to catch dust, he had told me before I had wrapped my arms around his neck to embrace him.

“Your name.”

“Huh?”

“I need your true name. The identity you are the most attached to, and something tells me it's not Magali of Venpal.” He smiled at me as if to encourage me.

I didn't return the smile but merely exhaled a deep breath. All in or nothing, even though I felt no danger from this strange wandering magician.

“Ximena.”

“Ximena.” He repeated, as if to try out how it felt pronouncing my name. “I like it. It fits you more than the one from your disguise.” He winked, and I felt color rush to my ears and my face.

“Well, here goes nothing.” I murmured and broke our eye contact.

Three cards were in front of us. I felt a pull towards the one on the far left, and I knew that Asra did so too. Before he had even turned the card around I knew exactly what it was going to be.

“The Moon, reversed.” I whispered and felt Asra's, Faust's and Segismundo eyes on me as I looked at the card which showed a lobster looking up at a crescent.

“You're afraid. In fact, you have been afraid for a very long time, so long that you learned to live with your fear as it was choking the life out of you but as of right now it's threatening to overwhelm you and you don't know what to do.” Asra’s voice was calm and serene, but there was an unmistakable sadness in it too. For some reason, I felt extremely ashamed and embarrassed as he spoke. He leaned back and looked right in my face. “Take a closer look at those fears, analyze and combat them. Only then you'll know what to do next, and it won't be a rash decision but what's meant to be right.”

Neither of us said something. I was the first one who broke the silence after what seemed like a small infinity. “You should go.” My voice didn't sound as strong and steady as I would've wanted it to, but Asra nodded. “I did what I came here for, and you made it clear you wanted to be left alone afterwards. I respect that.”

He stood up and bowed his head. I followed his example. “Thank you.” It was all I managed to reply to that.

“I will stay here for perhaps a couple of days, I suspect we will run into each other again, since this place is small.” I nodded in response, that was very within the realm of possibilities. “Have a good night, Ximena. And you too, Segismundo.” He nodded in acknowledgement to Segismundo, who returned the nod with a tilt of his head.

“A good night to you and Faust too.” I fumbled with my hands. “Get some rest.”

“Thank you, we will.” Another small smile stole itself onto his lips and I stood up to lead him out of the room. When I closed the door behind him and we were once again alone, Segismundo regarded me with a curious look. Well, he was interesting to say the least.

“You don't say.” I sighed and made my way over to him.

He seemed like he knew you but at the same time didn't. The one named Faust had looked at me as if she had already met me, and I felt the same way.

“Have you ever-”

No. You know exactly I have never.

“Hm.” I put a hand to my chin. “I'm sure there is an explanation behind all this.”

What about the reading? You know he's right. Do you really think going to Hjalle will make our problems disappear just like that?

I blinked. “Of course not.” My words came out more sharply than I intended them too.

Good, because we had this discussion too many times now. Also, neither of us have a fondness for the cold.

I rubbed my temples. “I'm gonna have to sleep a night over this. Or two. Or seven.”

Segismundo took off and onto my shoulder. As he gently rubbed his head against my cheek, I caressed his emerald green plumage.

That's a good idea. The Moon is shining now, but tomorrow the Sun will.

#the arcana #asra the arcana #asra the magician #apprentice ximena #my writing #beta readers? never heard of them #two fics in less than four days? you love to see it!#i spent way too much time deciding which animal her familiar should be bc i was torn between two lol #the other choice was a giant ant eater but i figured that i should still have her have smth in common w the fam #wrt decisions... i know asra's card is painfully cliché so i had to think better abt the one ximena gets and good god that was a process #also: whoever finds the three easter eggs i built in that have to do w stuff i like or work w gets a smooch from ximena her familiar and me

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halitophobia · 5 years ago

Text

Blind Eye - Two

Parings ⟶ OC x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (TEMPORARILY) , RK800! Connor x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (EVENTUALLY)

A/N ⟶ Thank you so, so much for the notes from the first chapter ! Btw, I’m really sorry this is a little late. I’m hoping for late weekly chapters? Every 10ish days or so...(I’ve gotten super busy, but I’m trying my best!)

Disclaimer ⟶ still don't own any characters from DBH

Warnings ⟶ swearing, violence, mentions of death, stubborn reader, stubborn Hank, spoilers...?, slow burn, sLoW bUrN, SLOW BURN, alcohol abuse (Hankster), angst, toxic relationship, eventual....fluff, happiness, cute stuff, flustered Connor, flustered Reader, all the gushy-ness, and ?????smut?????

Word Count ⟶ 3023

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

----

NOV 6th, 2038

AM 12:41:04

"Why'd you kill him?"

"What happened before you took that knife?"

Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you watch the HK400 through the one-way glass. Your arms are crossed, face still as marble except for the bouncing of your right leg.

"Anderson. Are you cold or having a muscle spasm."

You blink, glancing down at the one and only Gavin Reed's hands leant on the desk, but as quickly as you do, your eyes are glued back to the window.

"Let's make a bet. Like the good ol' days, yeah?" that same sandpaper voice sounds again, making you frown.

"I say," he pauses, "they had a bromance. Carlos and Andy over here." he gestures to the android. "Carlos brings home this smokin' hot 'robette' babe wanting a steamy, squeaky threesome. Attic boy gets mad and," his right arm comes up, and he stabs the air while pulsing to a beat of 'nn-s, nn-s, nn-s...', "...kills'em." So many things I didn't miss about working here...

That fowl scent of sweat, old leather, and cheese also known as Gavin wafts your way, and you do your best not to gag. I mean, does this hobo shower? Wash his hands after shitting? A loud bang draws your attention to Hank, who's clearly gotten frustrated.

"Fuck it. I'm outta here." he grumbles, entering the observation room seconds later.

You slowly clap watching him scowl at you.

"I'm impressed, Pops. You really stated your ground in there." you nod, earning a chuckle from Gavin. "My turn." you smile, and scurry out of the room. You hear Hank's voice yelling at you to come back, but you're already halfway through the door to the interrogation room.

The droid doesn't move an inch as you shut the door behind you. You grin, feeling a wave of déjà vu wash over you. You've done this plenty of times before. How hard can a life-sized moving Barbie doll be?

"Alright, you piece o' shit." you can physically sense your father slapping his face behind the glass.

"I'm gonna jump right into it, okay? Okay." you drop yourself into the chair across from it, leaning back and crossing your arms and legs. "I don't know how it works in your...command center up there, but you gotta tell us what happened."

You watch it avoid your gaze. A painful silence dances around you, only to make your skin crawl with frustration. You swing your leg back over and let it drop below you. Your arms come onto the table and you lean down, to get into its view.

"Pssst. I'm not leaving until you spill." you whisper, staring into its eyes even though it doesn't return the contact. You push back abruptly and revert to a normal volume, "So we can just skip all this," you motion between the both of you, "and you can obey, like a good little bot."

Immediately, you see the change of energy from the suspect. Your brows lift, amused at the reaction. "Oh? Not into the whole submissive thing? I can see you got mad there. If that's even possible."

It shifts again, seeming to get more worked up. This is perfect, you just need to push it around. No better way to let off some steam.

"You wrote 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall, like a jewelled crown atop Ortiz's lifeless head. That's what he said to make you upset, right? You were quoting him? Because, well...I mean, how on earth could you think of that? You aren't capable of...thinking for yourself." you wait, and decide to amp it up. "For all we know, that man was innocent. Just enjoying his life, wanting...a friend? And you come along? To do what? To stab him."

There's a warning knock from the other side of the glass. You brush it off and examine the android. Chest heaving, hands clenched and jaw rippling. The lips on its face quiver, words just waiting to break the dam. And without looking back, you chimmy-changa your way across the line.

"Twenty. Eight. Times."

You hear the tapping once again, more urgent, but still, you ignore it. Can you shut up? You're a millisecond away from confession and they choose to cut you know? Your old man probably wants to slip in and take credit.

You're brought back to your senses as you watch the scene in front of you. The battered automaton is now writhing under the chords which bolt is slowly lifting off the table. "Hey, hey, hey. No need to cause a scene. Suck it up, and tell me wh-" your vision goes black. Well fuck me...

The second your sight leaves, it's back but doubled. Your forehead throbs, as if a pump were behind your eyes. That motherfucking thing head-butted you. You can't help the weight sloshing around your brain, making your head pound harder. You move to stand, but stumble into the wall behind you. Get. Up.

You feel arms hook under yours, and start to get dragged towards the door. "Get off of me!" you snap.

Your view seeps back into HD and you ignore the sting in your head. "I'm fine! Let me finish this!" your voice is a harsh growl, and you lash around in the person's grasp.

Who is this anyway?

Then you smell it. Oh. Reed tightens his grip, practically lifting you from your waist, and before you know it, your dropped into a computer chair facing the interrogation room. Just as you start to collect yourself, another smack is planted on your skull.

Okay what the fuck.

"Ow."

An ice pack falls off your shoulder and into your lap. Wow, do I get a massage too?

"Nice going, Y/N." Hank spits.

You roll your eyes, pressing them into the ice pack. With your voice muffled, you reply with 'thank you'.

"No, I really mean it. You just jeopardized this whole cross-examination. You brought that thing near to self-destruction!"

Your brain is hoola-hooping within your skull and this ancient dick lecturing you is just hollering encouragement.

"Y/N, take this seriously. You really fucked up." Gavin chimes in.

Oh give me a break.

You groan loudly, hoping it'll make them stop. You really don't need this. You just need five quiet minutes, and you can go back in and get that confession. Easy-peasy.

"Earth to Y/N. You may have been bumped in there, but I know damn-well you can hear me." Hank aggressively taps your shoulder and the water in the pot just boils away.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

You're fully turned around, eyes ablaze with fire. You're cooking both men alive from your eyes and the pain from your head disappears for a moment. A silent breath escapes your parted lips, and you almost whisper.

"Will you, shut up."

The air is thick as fog. Your sight clogged with angry-exhaustion, their's with vigilance, for they now tread on very thin ice.

"My name is Conner, what about you. What's your name?"

You're. KIDDING.

Spinning your chair right around, you're faced with an image of pure disaster. Sir Smiley-Bot is seated across from the HK400.

"You let the fucking android interrogate the fucking android!"

It hasn't even been twenty minutes and for the second time, you're blood is racing around your body like a jet. Running circuits in and out of your shrinking heart. Does no one have common sense in this fucking facility?

"What do we have to lose, Y/N. You've already ruined a proper examination, what's so different in sending in the thing?"

Hank's voice destroys every sense of calm in your veins. You're going fucking bonkers now. It's like they worship this brown-haired robot. Prancing around its steel feet, praying to the android gods above. You've come to a conclusion; you are officially the only sane human in this police division. Everyone's brains are being melted by the second and they'll all just become slaves for the androids. Yup, I’ve solved the case.

"Shh, shh, shut up. Listen." Gavin lays his hand on your right shoulder, which you quickly brush off.

"I was fucking breathing."

He replies with a grimy finger to his lips, staring forward. You sulk in the chair, intertwining your fingers atop the desk. The ice pack is balanced on your head and you stare forward. King-Droid seems to be calming the defendant down. Seriously?

"I could have easily calmed the thing down, this isn't all that fantastic." you scoff, adjusting the cooling pack.

Hank flicks your head in response. It sure shuts you up. I am getting favoured over a bottle cap. I leave for one year and all of Detroit's been fucked in the ass by Alexa, Google Home, and Cortana at the same time. This is absolute bullshit. Choosing these things? Over trusted humans? This is surely humanity's last stra-

"No!"

...come again?

"No, please don't do that!"

All three of you are now leant toward the glass, your nose virtually pressed on it. All that stupid popcan had to do was threaten to probe its memory ooooh spooky!

"What..."

A beautifully awkward sound of leather, wood, and the chair squeal in harmony as your trio incline forward again. If it weren't for the one-way glass, there would be three sources of breath in their own designated spots.

"What are they going to do to me?"

Baby bye, bye, bye, BYE BYE.

"They're going to destroy me, aren't they?" its voice is in a panicked hiss.

Ding ding ding! We have a winner!

"They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice if they want to understand what happened."

This goes on for a little while, the honoured golem teetering between comfort and warning. You just watch soundlessly, intrigued for the outcome. Cold droplets trickle down your neckline, for the pack on your head had started to melt. You can't resist the urge to shiver, swiftly wiping away the excess water.

Your attention is slowly dispersing and you're starting to lose interest. You notice your stomach grumble - right, you'd forgotten to eat before all of this. Come to think of it, you're starving. Your gut agrees and wails to you again.

"Shh!" Gavin jeers.

Oh please.

You start to lift onto your feet, wanting to grab a snack, but are interrupted by a voice that has been heard to the very minimal. Seriously though, vending machine cashews would kill right about now...

"He tortured me everyday..."

Your ass is stapled back into the chair, holding your tongue as its mouth finally starts to move. You listen intently, watching the emotions.

You're amazed at how...real these androids look. This...suspect. Its..his eyes were saying something. His face held...pain. The way he says he was scared makes your breath falter. For a moment, you could really believe they're humans...with their own lives...own problems.

But your eyes move to the annoying one and the funky lighted circle gives it away.

Connor no, that hurt to say... asks more questions. And that's when you feel shivers crawl up your spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. The dark-skinned bot falls into a trance, speaking of ra9. Claiming it will save them all...that they'll no longer be slaves. You swallow hard, feeling regretful...and alarmed. You blink. You never know what these two could be doing in there.

"What if they're secretly communicating to each other? Through their...biocompo-nents...? you ask under your breath.

"As if. They can't mind...speak." the brunette scoffs behind you.

"Yeah? And how would you know." you bark back.

You're interrupted by Hank, smacking both of you.

The RK800 turns its head toward the mirror; harsh and precise. "I'm done."

You jolt up. Goosebumps on your skin, hairs on your arms standing tall and attentive. That interrogation gave me the creeps...

All three of you flood out the main door, heading to the one just a foot away. Officer Chris Miller tags along who you literally hadn’t noticed until he cleared his throat, preparing to move the aberrant. No...that's just weird to say. Suddenly, the room feels a lot smaller. Six of you is six too many.

"Chris, lock it up." Gavin commands gruffly. You notice how he eyes the RK800, the model obviously ignoring his warning.

Officer Miller detatches it from the table, but it jerks from his grasp. Your eyes narrow and you lean against the door, feeling drowned from the new energy in the space. Like defusing a ticking bomb.

Gavin interjects aggressively, hassling Chris to move it. You watch awkwardly as they struggle, both of them pulling completely opposite ways. You push off from the wall, starting to get impatient.

"You're making this harder than it has to be." you state, trying to get its attention.

Gavin yells once again, only to get the same in return. Your childish ass chimes in, telling Reed to back down, and now it's just a trio of toddlers crying for their candy. You're telling the cheese-smelling douche to hold his temper, while he's bitching about being tired. Chris yells at both of you two shut up when you notice the thing across you grab the officer's gun.

Fuck.

In less than a second, blue...blood has coloured the ceiling. The HK400 is crumpled on the floor, gun laying loosely amoung its fingertips. Nothing stirs in all six of you. Your lungs have paused, muscles and eyes too. Your gaze is cemented on the one now pressed to the ground. The eyes still and wide like any other human lying dead. It stares off into another realm, mouth frozen in time, halfway through an inhale.

This is what you forgot about. This part of the job. This raw, ferocious beast that gnaws at your gut. Chewing, ripping, tearing your meat agonizingly slow. Always hungry, always eating away at you.

"Holy shit."

You whip your head at your father, revolted that the same words escaped his mouth...at the same time.

----

AM 1:34:48

Gulping down two pills of ibuprofen, you stare at Hank talking with his plastic buddy. You're leant against his desk, fiddling around with his pens and sticky notes. You sigh as you feel someone slide up next to you.

"How've you been, fucker. You looked like shit walking into the building cuffed. 'Thought you were the one being arrested."

The grey-eyed dickwad chuckles at his comment, anticipating your snarky retort.

"Reed, I'm not in the mood." you grumble, wiping your eyes with the underside of your fingers.

You can sense his frown and disappointment. There's a small pause, but sure enough, he doesn't leave you alone.

"Another fight with Ben?"

Your stomach inverts and you feel the need to throw up. "Excuse me?"

He raises his hands defensively. "Woah, woah. Just asking. You just always seem to be having problems with that guy."

"Where did you get this from, huh?" you threaten.

"Last time I saw you, you were whinging about him on the phone. You weren't being discrete."

Sure...you weren't, but that doesn't mean he had the right to listen. He's a nosy, intrusive, grumpy old prick and you have never felt so disgusted in his presence.

"Stay out of my life, Reed. You have no right to ask me that. You have no right to assume things about me, and you have no right to be a...fucking asshole!"

"That last one isn't even-"

You slapped him.

There's a sliver of regret, but your choler has clouded your mind. Do I have anger issues?

Next thing you know, Hank is lecturing you about having manners, controlling your actions, thinking before you do, blah blah blah. You've heard this all before, it's like you're thirteen again, getting pestered at for feeding the dog your lasagna. Or cutting off that stupid girl's ponytail. She was a wicked shrew...

Behind Hank, you catch Gavin start to snicker. Absolutely not. You push past the bearded man and start to pummel the brunette's chest. And I mean pummel. Beat. Punch. Slam. Not one giggle leaves his toxic mouth. Poppa tries to pry you off, but he gets an elbow to the nose. Respect your elders, am I right? All this anger...is barely even from Gavin's stupid words. This is the rage from the past two hours. Tonight has been hell. Trudging through disaster after disaster. It's all too much. Your gums start to ache due to the tightness of your jaw. Your hands begin to shake, each blow somehow impacting you. It's like you're just beating up yourself.

A pair of arms wrap around your sore body, ripping you from your poor...punching bag. Gavin's face is already swelling. Black and blue covering his skin. Blood as the cherry on top. He's dead quiet now, breathing heavily as he lays on the ground. But then...you notice Hank on the ground too, blood spilling from his nose. If Hank's on the ground...then that means...

You look down and see grey sleeves, detailed with black and silver. No, no, no, no...

"LET ME GO YOU CLUSTER OF RUSTY NAILS."

"I'm sorry, Detective Anderson, but you need to calm down before I can let you go."

I hate his voice, I hate his voice, I hate his voice...

"I'm calm." your voice like honey flowing over chocolate mousse.

You drop every emotion in your face. All of your tensed muscles fall and you seep into its chest. Its arms fall from your torso. You wait a beat, then completely turn around.

You punch it square in the face.

You watch in delight as its face snaps back. It stumbles, just once, which truly is enough for you. There's a burst of relieve and triumph, followed by a sting and numbness between your knuckles

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, fuck. Fucking fuck. Okay, so worth it, though...

----

#connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh #detroit connor #dbh x reader #detroit become human #detroit connor x reader #connor #rk800 #dbh connor #hank anderson #hank x connor #hank's daughter #bryan dechart

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xoexoxhoe · 6 years ago

Text

On The Hill

A/N: This is LITERALLY one of the most interesting things i’ve ever read. My Co wrote this based off of her love for political angst/dramas, and honestly, it’s really good guys, TOTALLY WORTH THE READ. We hope you enjoy this little piece by Momo (@sailor-baek )

Characters: Park Seonghwa (ATEEZ) & Reader (Y/N), featuring another ATEEZ member!

Theme: Political AU, angst, love affair, political drama

Nothing comes easy when you work for the President of the United States. Especially when it involves Park Seonghwa.

💥Warning: Angst💥

The processional march was colorful noise in your ears as you followed closely behind the big man. It got older every time you heard it, which was, quite regrettably, every first Friday of the month. Really, anything would be better than the obnoxious blaring of-what was it? An oboe? You had no idea but it sure didn’t sound like the Chopin Nocturne op.9 no.2 you had to turn on every night to sleep.

“You’re doing it again.”

You didn’t even remember getting on the floor, a communications intern behind the press caucus chuckled. Carrie Ann. George Washington University undergrad and poli-sci masters at the good ‘ole Harvard. You made a mental note to fire the little shit as soon as this thing was over. Your attention turned to the man, still waiting for a complete introduction at the podium.

“Doing what, sir?”

“That frown thing with your eyebrows. You’re gonna get wrinkles, Y/N. What was that cream thing you use? You better stock up before Big Pharma gets their hands on the patent or I’ll have to call you...what is that new movie with Oprah?”

“A Wrinkle In Time, sir.”

“Yes, that one! A wrinkle-”

“It’s a childrens movie; nothing to do with premature aging, sir.”

A little huff escaped his lips and a slight tug appeared on yours. The press secretary was clapping now signaling for your boss to give his address.

“I’m sure your daughter will be happy to watch it with you tonight. Mr. President, you’re up.”

“Ah yes, it appears so.”

You watched as he made his way up to the center; flurries of camera flashes turning the west wing corridor into a light show. This is the time when you would check out. His speech was solid, you had looked it over yourself the hour prior. Today, however, there was a particular bump in your paved smooth travel down the hill. A rather large bump, by the name of Park Seonghwa. He was standing to the right behind his Prime Minister with the cheekiest smile plastered across his face. Bilateral economic relations didn’t warrant this kind of happiness, it oozed off of him like fucking honey. You had heard your greenies gushing over him earlier that day. The hot speech writer from the embassy. Why was he even here? Stupid question, you knew it was because he was Prime Minister Cho’s nephew. Nepotism at its finest. You had to use that one later. It would definitely sting. When clapping resumed again you made your way to the podium to rally the cameras back into the hall.

“Coverage of the reception will be permitted. I’ll have the details sent over via secure line. Until then please wait in the briefing room for further instruction. Thank you, everyone.”

You turned the corner still trying to shake that stupid smile from your mind when Carrie Ann caught your eye at the coffee corner. Before you could stalk all the way over, someone called your name.

“Ms. Chief of Staff...sir?”

God, you had forgotten your interns had project due today. “One sec, hun.”

You pivoted straight into a paper cup of coffee. “You look like you wanted to, um, talk to me.”

“Carrie Ann, do I amuse you.” The cup was warm in your hand now; sickly sweet aromas filling your nose. A little sip of the searing liquid confirmed your suspicion, too much liquid sugar. The poor girl had gone white.

“More specifically, my face-does it...does it make you want to laugh in a room of every major news outlet in the Pacific?”

“No ma’am, I didn’t mean to-”

“But you did.” You took a longer sip and gave her one last canvas before turning back to the little crowd that had gathered. “This coffee is wonderful by the way. Just a little suggestion, though; go easy on sweetener. You’ll need to remember that when you start at the local Starbucks.” You relished the gasps all the way to your office. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat that you remembered you weren’t alone.

“Shitty morning, my greenies. Tell me something that won’t make me want to throw you off of the east wing balcony.” A lazy finger point at the intern that had tapped your shoulder earlier opened a flood of updates.

“The KORUS coverage just hit air and it’s already trending on Twitter and Facebook.”

“Washington Governor Townsend has agreed to the state park expansion plans in Olympia; we should have the contractors’ bids on your desk no later than noon.”

“The writer guy is waiting in your blue room, ma’am. Said he has an appointment.”

Messy papers were strewn all over your desk; draft bills for POTUS to look over and countless testimony from the bane of your existence that was the municipal aide fund. You didn’t even look up. “I know plenty of writers, Joshua, you need to be more specific.”

“The hot one, ma’am. Tall, Korean, windswept hair look-”

“You need not go on, dear, this is the White House, not a middle school cafeteria. Send him in.”

The group trudged to the door. “Wait. I want all of you to finish up those Arbor Day submissions from the kindergartners. Pick a winner too.”

“The criteria, ma’am?”

“I don’t know, pick one that colored the trees unrealistic colors. I support impressionism and nothing says ‘Happy Tree Day! Thank you for the oxygen!’ more than a purple ficus.”

“Got it, ma’am, purple ficus.” You shoo-ed them off with the hope that the president would get a chuckle from handing a five-year-old artist a certificate for a periwinkle disaster on national television.

“That girl from earlier. I passed her crying on the way here; such a harsh way to be let go.”

You scoffed, “I might just call secret service to drag her out. Why are you here, Mr. Park? You didn’t have an appointment.”

Seonghwa sauntered to your desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket while easing onto the varnished oak and cocking his head to the side, “Hm…” he grabbed the bow cascading down your blouse, rolling the silk in his fingers, “I never imagined something so frilly on someone so…”

“So what?”

He glared down at you, dropping the bow and retracting his fingers, grabbing the pocket square out of his suit, “So… disdainful.”

You smiled unevenly, “Sometimes I wonder where you learn words like this, but then I remember you went to college here and I can’t one up you with pretentious vocabulary.”

A smile spread across his face, “Do you want it in Korean? 경멸적인.”

“Why should I respect you, Seonghwa? I’m the White House Chief of Staff; not the eager college girl that gets you a cream cheese bagel in the morning.”

The way he got under your skin was criminal. Bad enough that he still hadn’t answered your initial question. What was the question? You were getting too old for this. “Your speech on NATO was cute; Prime Minister Cho did well for the press.”

“Did you like it?”

“Oh, I did. In fact I have a particular word in mind to describe it.”

“What would that be?”

“쓰레기.”

“Ah! She knows Korean now; such a dynamic personality.” His index finger tapped against his palm, “First off, we have a condescending Chief of Staff, who, with no mercy or remorse, loves to fire her perky college interns. Second, she must be achingly smart because she dragged my Korean speech-”

“I’ll stop you right there. Perky? Not exactly the word I’d use to-”

Seonghwa stood, readjusting his suit, “Let me finish, Y/N. Finally, for someone so beautiful, you sure do have a terrible temper.”

“You came here to be an asshole; is that it?”

“Takes one to know one, ma’am.”

“You’re the one that called it a dynamic personality.”

He paused, clasping his hands together, “I simply came to ask if I’d be seeing you at the party tonight.”

“To gawk at your latest arm candy? Don’t count on it.”

◎

The Secretary of Commerce had always rubbed you the wrong way. From the beginning of the appointment, green shadows in his hollow eyes had made his motive clear. Sure, the trade renewal was beneficial to everyone. It was especially so to one certain senior official that had poured half the budget into the Korean subsidiary of a Chinese chemical manufacturer. You weren’t a god, neither was the president. The things that were sacrificed in the name of universal well being wouldn’t keep you up at night. Besides, the geezer talking your ear off had to pay for his estate in Great Barrington somehow. You felt a hand slip around your waist.

“It was a pleasure, Mr. Secretary. Congratulations on the agreement.”

Pulled away without much more than a nod in his direction you turned your attention to your companion. “How did you know I was dying of boredom?”

“Y/N, dear, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It couldn’t have been more obvious if you had screamed ‘insolent plutocrat’ in his face.”

You gravitated towards the bar and took the cucumber vodka Yunho held out. He was every bit the man your parents had expected; fitting the description a 9 year old you had mapped out and stuck to the fridge. Doctor Jeong Yunho; Chief of surgery at Georgetown, specializing in neurology. How else could you describe Yunho but simply strapping. Heels didn’t challenge his height. His goofy smile never faltered and his bright eyes followed you like a puppy. Walking into any function with him felt like a cold drink laced with ecstasy; only mildly dangerous and the biggest ego booster. He made you feel powerful.

You leaned in to begin a whisper into his ear.

“My my my, what do we have here?” If Yunho was ecstasy, Seonghwa was the dirtiest mephedrone on the black market. That hand found your waist again. The woody scent on Yunho’s lapel invaded your senses. There came a time every woman had to face the music; you hadn’t wanted it to be tonight.

“Mr. Park, I don’t believe you’ve met my fiancé.”

“Park Seonghwa, right? I’m Yunho, nice to meet you, man.”

The newest patron took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Likewise, Doctor. I assume congratulations are in order.” You cast a sidewards glance to Yunho who was playing idly with the silver band on his finger. The whole ordeal was suffocating.

“So when’s the big day?” Seonghwa’s eyes were on you now, still full of the morning’s mischief.

“End of June; we’ll make sure to send you an invitation.” You scooted a little closer to Yunho, letting his guarding presence hold you upright. A shrill beep sounded from his breast pocket; one that you had heard many times. He cleared his throat a little and reached for the pager. Duty always called. It didn’t matter even if you had just helped to divert a nuclear crisis. If someone had their head cracked open on an operating table, Dr. Jeong would be there to patch them up. You took a long swig of the sweating cocktail and set it down.

“You should go, honey. It sounds urgent.”

He offered you a sheepish smile. Seonghwa just turned to face the bar, sloshing a drink in his hand.

“Multiple trauma crash on the 95. Baby, I’m sorry.” Yunho lightly grabbed out your hands that re-did the buttons of his suit.

“I of all people know that work is work. Don’t sweat it kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“You’re not coming home?”He met your lips in a chaste kiss.

“I fly to Mumbai first thing in the morning and I still have lots of stuff to do before then.”

Yunho just nodded with understanding and bent down to peck your cheek one last time. “Text me when you land.”

“Will do. Drive safe.” When he was far you heard a snicker come from the side. Rolling your eyes you motioned the bartender over for a refill. It was Bruno tonight. Thank god. He always kept the good stuff on the side for you.

“Work is work, huh?”

“Precisely.”

The brooding man eased towards you slightly, still looking forward. “Are you working me?”

“For what reason would I do that? I have nothing to gain.”

He downed his dark liquid. “We both know that isn’t true.” and with that, he was gone into the crowd of tipsy politicians. Dim chandeliers and the gaudy presentation was suddenly becoming too much. With swift steps you made your way to the president’s table, a pleasant smile plastered on your face.

“Sir, I’m going to head out for the night; lots to do for tomorrow.”

“Of course, Y/N! Send my regards to Yunho on his surgeries. I saw that he left earlier.”

It was that obvious, huh? “I will. Thank you, Mr. President. Congratulations again on the agreement.” With a quick side hug to the misses and last goodbyes, you walked to the back entrance. Your night detail was waiting at the door, purse and coat in hand.

“Evening, ma’am.” You took your purse and got into the car.

“Hello, boys. I’m so ready to sleep.”

“Home, ma’am?”

“Not tonight, Sarge.”

“Of course.”

The ride to the Regis was short. Without much thought you were in your suite; draped in silk and nursing a vintage malt the adorable concierge had given you. And you had tried so hard to not come off as an alcoholic. How disappointing. The door clicked open but you didn’t pay it any attention as you were still enthralled by the itinerary in front of you. A hand pulled the pin out of your makeshift bun sending hair cascading over your shoulders.

“You work too hard, Y/N.”

“I am my work. It runs my life” The humming in your ear made a familiar heat rush to your chest. It flared out down your arms in little tingles.

“This here isn’t work. I think this is something you’re doing all for yourself.”

You reached behind you, bringing lips hard against your own. There was a little cut on the bottom one from a consistent bite the owner was likely not aware of. Sucking on the spot elicited the deepest moan you’d ever heard. Music on par with Nocturne op.9.

“Add selfishness to the qualities of my dynamic personality.”

You turned around in your seat and found a firm grip on your ass pulling you flush against a rattling chest. “He seems like a great guy.”

“Don’t talk about him, Seonghwa.” Stepping off the chair you pushed him towards the bed. He fell onto the plush surface without a sound of protest.

“You definitely have a type. The press would have a field day.”

Settling over the cocky speech writer that had been tugging on the edges of your mind all day was satisfying to say the least. You fit there perfectly; taking everything that was Park Seonghwa in until it made you dizzy. Though not as dizzy as he became when you abused his neck with abandon. You always adored his icy veins threatening to pop in restraint. His hands fumbled at your hip, willing you to move against him. He was too busy getting off to shameless moans of his name in his ear to feel your knee press down hard on his clothed dick.

“If anything gets out to the media, prepare to have this handed over to your uncle on a silver fucking platter.” His breath hitched and you swore the bulge in his pants only grew. You replaced the knee with your hand and used the other to rip open his now wrinkled button down. Your favorite surface. Not as broad as Yunho, but Seonghwa would say the filthiest things to get you to paint trails down his chest until he couldn’t breathe. That’s the difference between your choice of drugs. The most dangerous ones were the most addictive. So when he captured your mouth again, a fresh whimper on his lips, you had no intention of backing up the threat. Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Seonghwa. Pure honey to taste.

“Please, just fucking ruin me, Y/N.”

“I serve at the pleasure.”

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